scrubbing bubbles, from the oddCITY drawings on Ulysees, ITIN ’01
There is a great line at the end of Schnabel’s Basquiat, it has JMB turning to what would be a sort of vincent gallo gray gang composite (again gray… the ineluctable modality…., etc.) IT’s after warhol dies and Basquiat wakes up in the gutter and says like a Pogue: “Let’s go to every bar in Ireland and have a drink in each one….”
Or something and then the Pogues play….So Happy St. Patty’s day. May the road rise to meet chya when its summer in siam and ¥øu’re swimming to Cambodia….or Thailand. As my old friend Chuleenan Svetvillas said: “Thai one on.”
Or as Cohen says: “Let go a my lucky charms. They’re magically delicious!”
This from a guy with a framed cell of the scrubbing bubbles in his batheroom.
Tom also dropped by to pick up the old green i-mac. All his IBM pc stuff exploded from a virus, or something. He and sharron aren’t marching today, as they usually do.
“Amature Night,” Tom calls the holiday, like Sinatra st the Sands with Count Basie.
I made it all the way to the BMA only to find out it was closing. So Basquiat was interrupted by five o’clock. Least I got a walk in.
He’s at home with his beer and his wife. He only needs some corned beef and cabbage and he has the perfect St. Patty’s day.
Pet Sounds is also green. I’ve been watching the dvd. Brian sounded great…still hitting the high notes. I’m drinking green tea in honor of the Irish. Watching George Harrison tribute on DVR. Irish/Indian/Japanese… and the cutest buddhist called me… My little nephew UGI (or Tyler to you Whitey) He was laughing so much it nearly made me cry.