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Birds, Becky, my darling co-founder of our new art collective (more on that soon, promise!), is in LA for approximately ten days (as of January 26th?). She flew out of New York in a blur, leaving behind her dear, dear Riou George. I don’t know all the intimate details about Becky and Riou George’s relationship, but I have it on very good authority that they sleep together and have been for awhile. (Becky would be [...] Fresh off the plane, where I spent roughly five and a half hours sitting next to the cutest little lab puppies and their super-kind handlers- bred at Guide Dogs of America Los Angeles and bound for a GDANYC trade-off, Keegan met me at Jamaica Station. (Cabs to and from the airport are such a money & time suck, Birds; between the traffic and bad weather, they don’t get you to your destination any faster and cost a lot more.) From the train, we went to his apartment. (By the way, did I mention to you that I’m back in New York for awhile?) Click here to finish reading yesterday: queens for a day . . .
I like to make my friends dress up like trainwrecks monkeys. I like to get them sloppy merry, happy drunk and take advantage of them, Pretty Birds. I fatten them up with French Fries (don’t forget the Grey Poupon!) and clove cigarettes cigars. I like to make them crawl the pubs; I like to laugh when they motorboat a stranger’s breasts as we linger outside, closing time long gone [...]
A midget, a gypsy, a Jew, and a troll. [...] |
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