And everything was under a great column of light and these flowers, while they don’t look like much, wafted the smell of near naked women all down our block and caught the sunset like a giggle on the breeze.
I ain’t tryin’ to put a black eye on the game, but I got nailed in the face by an old cutting board painting… it fell on me from a precarious perch in a sort of Un Chien Andlou affair. It seems like a good detail for Clark in Willoughby, so I’ve been doing improvs based on Rocky and Barfly, or something. Who needs makeup? Just slam yourself in the face with art… then I nearly cut my head open on our new dvd rack… it’s not going well… talk about beating yourself up… art and movies all after me… hell I feel like the narrator of Willoughby! It’s a conspiracy of the cultural elite! Or I’m a clumsy oaf/bull in a china shop of my own making. Deadalous Redux: or Symphony for the Devil – if your computer has lots of juice, it is fun to run all these little movies that follow together with my quote from Iggy and The Stooges – it sounds like punk meets sample rock. I love all accidents… untill someone puts an eye out.
