(no subject)

Last night I went to hear my friend Bazooka Joe play records at some lounge. There were fifteen loud frat boys next to us, oh yeah, why I never go to lounges in Manhattan.

His friends are funny scruffy nerdy rock and rollers. One guy from Memphis, a young white guy, he kept talking real slow and cat-daddy, like a mix of Elvis and Iceberg Slim, like a cartoon beatnik. I couldn't even handle it. But in a good way. I love freaky people from the South who move to NYC and rock it just like they dreamed when they were 13 and nobody understood them.

Also the drink = the sick. No more. Next time you see me I will be jogging past with one of those giant bottles of spring water, all toned and vibrant.

NYC people in need of furnishings

Look, we have this sofa, it's pretty nice. About 6 1/2 feet long, olive-goldy velvety leaf pattern. We also have a black flat file, suitable for storing photos or drawings or anything flat, with a special secret spy compartment on the top. Please come to buy them.
For you, so cheap: sofa $140, flat file $40.

Email me and I'll send you a photo even.

What does a champion wear?

Tomorrow I am taking part in a photo shoot for my friend Zeroboy's Slot Car Racing Track Team. This is because I am the reigning champion of their tournament.

I came in a total amateur, had literally never done it before, and swept the fucking thing, beating out some guy named Bubba and everything.

He is having another tournament on Oct. 11th, where I will be defending my title against all you pretenders to greatness.

I am so excited because this is the only sport I have ever been good at at all.

But oh yeah, what does a racetrack champion wear? Coveralls?