100 Page Super Spectacular
I took yesterday off so today is an attempt to double up. Been having a gay ol’ time the past few days. And you know that can’t be bad. The piper’s union has been lax but then again I’ve been living on the down low, and it’s usually under covers.
All in all it was a good Christmas, and not necessarily gift wise. Bill’s been quite amazing, and he’s had some erotic photos taken. Really erotic. Too erotic to be posted here. So don’t ask. But they are quite hot. So a shout out to Bill.
Had an excellent online chat with a good friend mamonohunterneo. A wise lad. And also quite hilarious. So a shout out to him.
Off work this week and already trying to think about something. Of course I have my best ideas when I’m away from the computer. Sometimes remembered, often not. So a shout out to my memory.
Diggin the Ipod. It has already uploaded everything on my Itunes. Took most of the day to get 5,074 songs. Now comes the task of whittling them down. It’s a gray day in Hoboken. Perfect laundry day. Feels like a Sunday.
Right now on Unsolved Mysteries is a missing woman who may have been too influenced by Jack Kerouac. Specifically his book ‘Dharma Bums’. Did she just pick up and vanish? She was sighted 30 miles south of Seattle dazed and confused. I read Dharma Bums sometime ago, it wasn’t that good. Kerouac’s best is of course, ‘On the Road’.
That was inspirational. Through Kerouac I learned about the Beats and latched onto Burroughs. I read most of Burroughs stuff and liked it then, now…? I enjoyed his character more than his fiction.
For a long time if someone was stuck on getting me something for a gift, chances are they went to the Burroughs section in various bookstores. There was a point in my life when a few friends decided to dabble in heroin. They would tell me that they had shot up last weekend, or when they were in Chicago. I would be horrified and ask why were they telling me this, they would respond, ‘You’ve read Burroughs’.
A lot of dear friends bought me blank books, which was nice, but I found them too intimidating.
I have a great collection of partially used blank books, usually with the first dozen pages filled with ambitious writing in a pharmaceutical scrawl. There are also the marble notebooks that I filled while working at McSwells. Those are drunken observations occasionally fueled by chemicals.
By the way, this is not fueled by chemicals. Does it show?
I spent a lot of time in the 80’s experimenting with things, and justified it by claiming it to be Burroughsian. I believed it, I think others did too. It was fun. Nobody got hurt as far as I know. And everyone was doing it. I know I know, that’s no excuse, so I’ll stick to the Burroughsian concept instead.
There is always a price to pay, hence the formation of the Piper’s Local Union 724. A surly mob, not as effete as you’d expect pipers to be. And they do show up sometimes at the gates of dawn.
Isn’t Robert Stack dead? Yes, Virginia, he’s dead. 2003. Odd to see him still hosting Unsolved Mysteries. Back in the enhanced years, I would crash at a friend’s house in Queens. His wife was always up late watching Unsolved Mysteries or similar fact based shows. I’d lie on the floor twitching.
It was fun though it doesn’t read that way.
It’s 12:30 PM. Feels like 5PM. I’m living too fast, getting ahead of myself.
Yes this is the sober ramble. Perhaps later if I dare venture out of the apartment again, I might change that.
Just logged onto gay.com and was invited to a party. I panicked, hesitated and wound up missing out. Sounded like a good time. One guy who’s been chatting with me for a long time and a pal of his from the Village. The first guy was setting it up. So I dropped the ball(s). There was a lot of pressure involved.
Hot X rated pics from the 2nd guy. All this eroticism. Aren’t I lucky? So many men, such little time as the song goes. And then there’s me getting the fuck up off the couch. It was enticing.
It was in line with what Bill and I pillow talked about. But I would’ve preferred Bill to be involved. I’m sure he would’ve too.
But inaction, plus paying dues top the piper’s union doesn’t actually make one sociable.
I am getting over it.
Actually ventured out to the supermarket. A remarkable accomplishment. Store was busy. I flew in and flew out. Outside the funeral home a group of mourners were planning their next move after the current viewing. Holiday funerals, what a drag.
“Or my name isn’t Riddick Bowe”
I had no idea Barbara was such an anti Semite.
I’m skimming through a book Julio gave me about the Beatles written by an insider. Starting to take an Anti Yoko stance. If it’s true, what a con…
Microderm abrasion indeed!
Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Ok the hair of the dog. First drink of the day. 6:55 pm. I would like to get the Rufus Wainwright Documentary. And David Rakoff’s new book. Well I can get that at the Library probably. So much to read. Behind in my New Yorker, but it’s better than having a New Yorker in my behind.
I am in love with the Ipod. Perverse.
“Crows feet are engraved on my face, and I’m living too late” Mark E. Smith The Fall. Brilliant lyrics that read like poetry and when Mark sings them, it’s perfect. The Fall are not for everyone, but there’s a really good collection called ’50,000 Fall Fans Can’t Be Wrong’ The title and cover art are a play on Elvis Presley. You had to be there.
“So, the caterpillar has emerged from its cocoon as a shark with a gun for a mouth”
Bustle off to Shuffalo