More Halloween Memories
“Yo Doug, it’s Larry. I’m standing here with a 12 year old prostitute and a garden gnome and we wanna know where you are.”
“Yo Doug, it’s Larry. I’m standing here with a 12 year old prostitute and a garden gnome and we wanna know where you are.”
Listening to a lot of this while I work on my novel. Enjoying the exercise in letting myself write total crap so far.
Every once in a while I feel compelled to post pictures of 1970s Robert De Niro on the internet. So, deal.
This will be one of those crazy months, when Murphy’s Law will prevail: If it can happen, it will happen.
“Special falafel” and Werner Herzog’s corkscrew poppin $3 chardonnay in the park. Refillin my trusty water bottle a.k.a. best investment of 2009. The East Village is often magical in this very particular way, for me.
I ran down the street screaming loud enough to attract the attention/kindness/bemusement of strangers. Frozen PBR at a semi-normie bar & the ceremonial first bite of scallion pancake in guido town. So many italian flags, wrought iron doors, & statues of the virgin mary. Drinks appearing 2 at a time, including when I explicity didn’t order them.
Walking slowly away from the cops and my memories get vague. “Your exact words were, ‘they call it antipasta, I call it free food.” “did I really say that?” “More like yelled it.”
Karaoke in brooklyn where strangers remember me from last time I visited. They say I was in rare form; I say let’s make it anything but rare. If you didn’t know, now you know.