ANOTHER SET OF WORDS FOR YOU TO READ -/THEY QUALIFY AS LEAF AND BRANCH AND SEED...
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
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[LOVE TRANCE by Eldo Rado (Page 1)]
This morning, 4:51am, last day of January, two-thousand-7, a Wednesday. Began that last quarter of the 16 Dune cassettes. And was heating potatoes and carrots I’d basically cooked last night. And lit a new candle, drinking leftover yerba mate tea. Sexual desire upon awakening, some dream.
And from in “Wild Words from Wild Women” desk calendar, quote from current big music star Amy Lee, about just wearing what she likes – “’cause I can. I’m a rock star.”
Guy in the hotel called me that recently – that vibe and the manner of dress. Well, some verbiage-based form of musical rock stardom, maybe, and attitudinally.
And…got to digital voice recorder notes from a few months ago – most not relevant now, but I listened to each and deleted them as I went, opening up space for new notes.
And…just requested from the library the two-disc set of The Band’s Last Waltz. Saw the Scorsese movie version a few months ago – would love to revisit the soundtrack. Particularly for “The Weight”. (At the Nitecap bar in the Tenderloin not long ago, selected Aretha Franklin’s version.)
And…going over voice notes from a few months ago – seeking those of current relevance. Noted the upcoming Janis Joplin flick – has the blessings of her estate, so that’s a good thing.
And mentioned a Byrds box set…guess I read this in Rolling Stone. Reviewer said the group was underrated ‘cause it didn’t have a charismatic front person. (Would surely get this set – had a boxed set of theirs in cassette form a few years ago.)
And note about Salvia divinorum – bought some of that last year in the Haight. Maybe get some more, see what it’s about. Still legal. Also available at The Twilight Zone head shop on Church near Market, across from the great 24/7 Sparky’s, last time I checked.
And note of how I’d gotten many martial arts books, maybe two dozen, to
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hotel front desk guy Vic last year. Stopped doing that – was fine setting him up like that then, but he can seek those out on his own now, if he so chooses.
And…note about Wa’il, at his New Princess corner T.L. market – him giving me wine credit. I’ve stopped drinking the Carlo Rossi Sangria I was so infatuated with last year – been cutting back on alcohol consumption in general. Switched to vodka, and forties of Miller High Life. But, as said previously, as far as the Wine, Women, and Song trinity goes, am focusing on the second now, with the drinking third in third place.
And…notation of Jim Marshall photo on a postcard of Janis, purchased at the Underground Shop on Market at 6th. Very recommended place to purchase things. Recently bought another Janis postcard and subsequently gave it to my Former Lady Roommate, unwritten upon, so she could mail it to someone of her choosing.
And…last year, my share of recreational use of aspirin. But often practical, when I had had too much to drink and was feeling a bit headachy. Less need for that lately.
And, noted two or three trips to Berkeley last year, on assignment from Odd Fellow brother P., to pick up photos he needed for his historical book. Went each time to Top Dog, the east side of campus one, and had one of their franks.
And…new “masturbatory tool” needed – that’s a phrase used by Sasha Grey at her MySpace.com/sashagrey site. Last item used for this purpose, photo of one beach-loving Sonya in an ’88 Chic mag I’d found. Well, that woman and I have come, so to speak, to a parting of the ways, and am seeking another. Tho’ not desperately.
And…from my voice notes – St. Anthony’s de-emphasized. Went many times last year, less so so far this new annum. Been cooking on my hot plate in m room more.
And…from the Cadillac Hotel food giveaway yesterday, had but one item left, a pound of vegetarian beans in tomato sauce in a silver can. That’ll be
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tasty at some soon point. Back in the room as of this, done cooking are the
potatoes and carrots I’d been disbursed yesterday from this source.
And…noted in my notes, from three months ago, the Vietnamese tailor shop around the corner. Not for any clothing I had transpiring there, but for the English-language VHS tapes they stock. Noted a boxed set of the Alien series – didn’t buy that then. Last time I was there, notable was a two-tape set including My Name is Nobody, an excellent tho’ admittedly B- or C- cowboy flick. Lacking the genius, basically, of Leone, but not without a certain charm of its own, that’s for certain.
And…noted on my voice notes that neighbor S. had asked for incense once – strange, that. Got him some…but should get him some more.
And…noted Chris Daly supporters visiting the hotel three months ago, the time of the election. Didn’t vote. Guess the man’s in office as supervisor for the district of Frisco I’m in. Politics, not my thing.
And…noted friend Aaron – don’t see enough of him. Last time, happened to be on the street when up he comes on his bicycle, and at that instant a pedal came off, and he nearly crashed.
And: the 7x7 mag offices – saw where they were. Bought an issue last year, went through it carefully, devoted a blog posting to what I found relevant. A bit too high society for me, not my kind of people, really. Maybe some of them.
And…noted the hoodie from the Kennedy’s bar given me by my Former Lady Roomate. Generally don’t wear anything that doesn’t button up or zip up, so gave that to someone. But appreciated the gift. And…that place, on Columbus toward’s Fisherman’s Wharf – very recommended – unusually, it shares the same building, seamlessly, with an Indian curry place. Plus, Kennedy’s has one of the exquisite digital jukeboxes that are not always to be found.
And…giving the finger to SUV drivers. Have really cut back on that…been
weeks and weeks since the last time. A bit too dangerous, really – never
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know when I’d do that to the wrong individual and find myself beaten down. And…voice noted the debut of Casino Royale, seeing the first mass ad for that. Would surely watch that on DVD, or when it gets to Comcast. Need to make a new friend who has got full-on cable. Or want to do that, anyway.
And…noted buying, for a mere dollar, a pretty Steal Your Face Dead cap at the U.N. Plaza artisan market. Subsequently gave it to one of the Persian brothers in the hotel – saw him in a Dead t-shirt once and figured he’d like it.
And…Amy Lee. Her quote today on my desk calendar, about dressing like a rock star – which means any way she darn well pleases. Saw one of her videos recently – drowning, in water. An ex-Christian. A lot of psychodrama there. Guess she’s cute enough. Great pipes, anyway.
5:36am…back from a shower, shit. And back to listening to three-month-old voice notes…my current shoes, with yin/yang emblems on them, tan. For about a month was able to keep them looking very new and clean, but at some point they got dirty. Oh well…no problem…don’t mind, at least now, wearing messed-up shoes.
And then, got to the portion of voice notes from very recently. 7am one Sunday, out to the library to return material: a Sonny Barger book about the Hell’s Angels, the massive audio book for the complete Joyce Ulysses, and the audio book for Lolita.
And…three dollar little bottle of bee pollen at the U.N. Plaza farmers’ market I wanted – will have cash in hand in less than 24 hours, so, yeah, much is going into the local economy. And noted at the market, the usual: Hare Krishna chanter, over-priced broccoli, okay-priced cabbage heads at 65 cents a pound, fresh whole catfish, the massage chair guy.
And…”Carolina Creamy Chicken” at St. Anthony’s…and listening to a handmade tape I bought on the street labeled “A little Led Zep!”, with that exclamation point – a goodly selection of that band’s work…and, on sale on the street, a live Velvet Underground disc, them at that Max’s place in Gotham – too much at 3 bucks - heroin thing swayed that decision. And a disc with CS & N’s “Marrakesh Express” – desired, but also too high a price.
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
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Back to yesterday, friend T. in my room. Had given him a can of tuna, and he had seen the packets of mayo I had on my shelves – these he desired, so gave them all to him – especially okay with me since I don’t care for the stuff. And there was some yeastless bread on my shelves as well, and he was keen on making a tuna sandwich.
And…there was a Rolling Stone, the one with the James Brown tribute from two issues back, and this was also an apple of his eye. Loaned it to him – tho’ I still hadn’t gotten to reading it myself. Had many Post-Its inside marking pages I wanted to study. Glad friend Cathead gave me the subscription – he got a great deal on it – 50 cents per ish, or so. Well, heck – there’s so many ads in it…
And…we got into a little discussion of sexual fetishes. He mentioned one he’d heard of related to snot and boogers. I mentioned vomiting. (This somewhat on my mind since Sasha Grey gets into this area in some of her videos. Haven’t seen any of her work yet – I’d prefer her to be a little less extreme. But there’s a market for certain behaviors, and she wants to please her fans. And make money, of course.)
And also mentioned by T. – he’d once worked in a Castro District sex shop – was a double-headed dildo. Recalled a porn movie I’d seen years ago in which one was used – two women on, I believe, a dentist’s chair. I suggested a three- or four-headed variety – there are certain to be those available, perhaps at the local Good Vibration outlets.
And he also mentioned a guy who used to come into the shop every month to buy a penis pump, I think is the term. T. later learned the guy would introduce live bees into the chamber of the device, and “get his jollies” that way. We discussed the possible animal abuse violation this would mean. Also, I added, bees aren’t especially easy to obtain.
And T. also lit up some bud he had, put it into his pipe and smoked it. I had incense lit, and I closed the door, a certain paranoia getting the better of me. I inhaled a bit of the secondhand smoke. Not into that now, tho’ I have been in the past. Perhaps if I secured a quantity I’d partake again.
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8:34pm, last night – T. still in my hotel room – turned on a bit of Incubus –
bought two discs for a buck each yesterday on the street. This in the interests of expanding my musical experience. But then T., who knew I’d been listening to the unabridged Dune on audio, asked for that. He says he’s a very loyal listener of NPR – on KQED in this area – so he likes people speaking, especially that short story recitation program. So on Dune went.
And wanted to mention we had also talked about some “fairy gathering” he’d taken part in once in the wild northern part of Minnesota – I pictured it as a gay male kind of Rainbow Tribe convocation. Well, T. felt very out of place there in terms of the surroundings – he’s mainly an urban kind of guy, from Detroit, or around there. Had problems using the outhouse, for instance. And he didn’t hesitate from causing trouble, or a hubbub, when he and a friend found a golf cart and ran it through the center of a solemn “heart circle” of other attendees. A real bad boy.
8:43pm – we’d determined that he would leave at 9. I decided to take a shower – nine wasn’t coming fast enough. Not that I didn’t like his company, but he’d fallen asleep in the chair, for one thing. Might’ve had something to do with the sugar cubes he’d put into the jar of Skippy I’d given him – the man virtually ate up a dozen cubes along with the peanut butter.
9pm – time for my guest to make his exit. Put Incubus back on.
9:11pm – had escorted my friend downstairs – hotel policy, all guests must be accompanied by tenants all the time. P., a lady in the hotel, seen then – asked if I had any “grape juice” – meaning wine. In fact, I had part of the bottle of Napa Cab I’d bought cheap earlier that day, and I wasn’t into it, so had her go upstairs, and I filled her cup. Had pills on her mind, psych meds and other types, and we chatted about that for a short while.
And in my room, alone. Ate the can of Moroccan sardines I’d bought at the halal meat market, for the desired Omega-3s. And Dune back on. First appearance of Beast Rabban.
Dogpiled on this character – plenty of sites related to the Dune cult…many
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Wikipedia entries. Oh, whatever…I remember the unsavory appearance of Beast Rabban in the Lynch movie. Tho’ he was Cary Grant compared to how Baron Harkonnen looked, covered with pus-filled boils there in his suspensor chair.
And…had last night a ten dollar bill left…well, only about 36 hours until I get money into my account…it’s fun to have money to spend. It’s a capitalist system in which we live, after all.
9:36pm – cooked up a box of Fettucine Alfredo that friend K. had given me. Wouldn’t be a choice I’d make, but the price is right. Don’t care for these cheesy dishes.
And continued with Dune. Line stuck out: “Paul jerked off his safety harness…” Lucky safety harness. Hey, Frank Herbert, you might’ve chosen a different verb for that one, har har har! And added a bit of butter to that fettucine, as instructed on the box. And had a few crackers at that time, with butter. Then this and that, then sleep…
2:03am, this morning, a Tuesday – very nearly the end of January. A bit of mouse noise was bothering me. Flipped over to a new side of a Dune tape. Then sleep again…
6:16am – awake, turned on the Dylan Nashville Skyline cassette I’d bought for a dollar on the street – first song, “Lay Lady Lay”…and on my “Wild Words from Wild Women” desk calendar, today’s quote from Sandra Bernhard, about how she wanted to be famous so she could have a nervous breakdown.
Well, I remember when she and Madonna were such gal pals back in the early Nineties. Then they had a falling out…and that fettucine – well, really didn’t care for the cheesy sauce and drained that out, kept the noodles.
And had incoming money in mind – called the Bank of America automated system to see if, perhaps, maybe, the cash had come in already. It was 48 hours too early, but, heck, thought it was worth a shot. Seems like on rare occasion in gets put in that early.
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6:29am, flipped the Dylan tape. Had leftover yerba mate tea from the previous day. Felt the urge to shit…really, I leave not much out in this. Computer in two hours and a half…
And: Johnny Cash appears on Nashville Skyline in “Girl From the North Country”. And: for the word “warm” expected the rhyme “storm”, but was surprised that that wasn’t used.
And wrote this phrase: “Activated erotic imagination and intelligence.” Working on that.
And, well, the 26th of this month was the third anniversary of the inception of this here record of my doings, and those of those I know. Paraphrasing the Dead song: “…lately it occurs to me what a long, strange quip it’s been…” (Hey, that’s pretty witty, right?)
And…”Nashville Skyline Rag” is the one instrumental on the album – liked it that at one point the sound comes from one speaker alone, then the other, then back again.
6:47am – back from a shit, a shower. But again, no shave…gonna get to that. And I had put out for others a pair of linen pants I’d found, and a copy of the Psychic Reader that I’d pulled articles from (still had a nice cover image, tho’), and a Tinkerbelle rubber door mat. The mat was the only thing taken when I’d returned from the shower. Nice item for certain, but it wasn’t really working in my room.
And…got into the Examiner from yesterday. Haven’t been reading it at all – happened to find it at random, and liked the Jessica Biel picture on the cover, in a glamorous gown. Seems she’s got a new boyfriend. And pulled out several pages for reference.
And learned something about Smokin’ Aces, a popular new film – the title refers to Buddy “Aces” Israel, a Lake Tahoe magician – several hit men (and Alicia Keys, a hit fox) are gunning for him for some reason. Keys looking very good in a Rolling Stone still from this. Number two at the box office over the weekend. Reviewer said it was a bit too edgy to be in first place.
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And, it being the 29th of January yesterday, reminded that it was the 37th birthday of Heather Graham, one of my absolute screen star favorites. She’s had a very good career, and one I’ve certainly enjoyed. About a decade since her breakout role as Rollergirl. And about two since beginning it with License to Drive in ‘88. Altho’ I see in her Wikipedia entry that she had two film roles before that – but in License to Drive, she was the headliner.
Well, happy birthday, girl! Born in Milwaukee – I think of her when I buy a 65 cent can of Milwaukee’s Best at a Tenderloin corner store. And…looking at that entry…caught up in it a bit…has practiced Transcendental Mediation since ’91. And it says she’s converted to Hinduism, from her Roman Catholic origins.
And…I see that she had a TV series about a year ago – heard about it only afterwards, and was sorry I missed it. But the entry says it was cancelled after just one show was aired. Hmmm…
And…also a birthday for baseball player Steve Sax. Ordinarily, this would not merit a mention in this blog of mine, but I recall reading in a biography of Winona Ryder that she had a thing for him at some time in her early teens. So now you know.
7:23am. Just done re-reading yesterday’s 13 blog pages. The stuff is useful to me, anyway, just to keep my so-called head together.
And had Incubus on. They’re just okay, not really moving me much yet. As said, would get their entire catalog and listen with care, I suppose. But, like, something like “Don’t Pull Your Love” by Hamilton, Joe Frank, and Reynolds probably moves me much more than anything by Incubus. But I could be wrong.
And…got into that song this morning, actually. Got it on a cassette with “One Toke Over the Line” by Brewer and Shipley just before it. Trouble with cassettes is that it’s not a button push to get to a song like with a CD. Don’t really want to hear “One Toke”, but if there was a song I had to hear when overshooting the distance on a tape, that one’s okay.
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Heard, in fact, that that Brewer and Shipley Seventies classic was one of
Hunter Thompson’s favorites. Just Dogpiled – yeah, says that it was mentioned more than once in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. Also, recall that “Spirit in the Sky”, by Norman Greenbaum, was also liked by Dr. Gonzo.
And…other Seventies tunes are on the tape I was playing – including “Wild World” by Cat Stevens, “Joy to the World” by Three Dog Night – with the unusual opening line “Jeremiah was a bullfrog…” And also, a synthesizer-based tune called either “Hot Butter”, by Popcorn, or “Popcorn”, by Hot Butter. (Well, with a little thought, I guess it would be the second, ‘cause the tune sounds like popping corn…duh…)
And…also on the tape, that Seventies version of Bach’s “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring”, by Apollo 100. (Friend Cathead has the Rhino multi-disc collection that I derived this tape from…it’d be worth it to visit his place out in the Avenues to compile another one. Be worth it even for that Edison Lighthouse song about Rosemary, geez.)
7:47am…had put that “Convoy” novelty tune on the tape as well…was sortuv into it this morning. But frankly, I was stretching it to put that one on – I’d say I’d get a solid half hour of Seventies songs on a tape that would still be relevant and enjoyable to me now.
And…in the final stretch of this posting…8am, still in my room. Had a letter to mail that I’d forgotten about for days, so that woulda been a reason to get out the door. And then this and that…no notes until half after one this afternoon…have begun using my digital voice recorder again, carrying that around, so must’ve put something on there…
And felt the need for a potato for the spinach and garlic and onion and rice dish I was cooking up – got those first three ingredients for a dollar on the street. Had been listening to the Dune audio book…Lady Jessica, mother of Paul, disarms a full-grown Fremen warrior man, so that showed those desert dwellers something. And had checked by cell my checking account again – still no money. Someone had said some are getting their money early. Goes to show you how much credibility there is in idle rumor.
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And…well…pushing this to get to all my notes, for whatever that is worth. Really need to find something better to do with my time. Or at least something in addition to this, geez…and in that Dune reading, first appearance of Chani, the young Fremen woman, portrayed ably by Sean Young. Also much admired by me in Blade Runner.
2:40pm…at the free food giveaway, weekly one, at another hotel in the Tenderloin besides the one I live in. Got a ticket, bided my time until distribution of the goodies back in my room, attending to a cut-up potato I’d added to my spinach, onion, garlic and rice mix. More Dune.
When I’d picked up the ticket, Odd Fellow brother A. there also, also wanting the free food. Invited him up to my room whenever he felt like it. Operates the elevator in the lodge building. Funny guy, but no one to mess with, that’s for certain. And he’d just won a lawsuit related to one of the individuals who hang out in front of the building, so that’s good for him – hopefully he’s got money that was coming to him.
And guy G. there also in line – told me he just got his Section 8 housing deal after three years of waiting, so he’s going this week to another T.L. hotel, but one with full accoutrements – bathroom, microwave, all that. Plus, the rent’s only, like, a hundred-and-27, I think he said. So, also, good for him.
And in Dune…Lady Jessica’s called a “weirding woman” by the Fremen…should check Wikipedia on this, and on “weird”, which isn’t a bad thing. A witchy sort of thing. The three witches at the start of MacBeth are called the “Weird Sisters”.
And…got a few lines left…may as well see what Wikipedia has to say about Sean Young…born November 20th, 1959 – makes her, I guess, a Scorpio, but just by a fraction. Recently in Russia doing a miniseries about Isadora Duncan – was trained early as a dancer. Something of a history of being stalked by an ex, or doing the stalking. (Well, on and on…wanted to fill out fully this posting, so there it is. Got a bit lackadaisical – Dictionary.com defines this as “Lacking spirit or liveliness; showing lack of interest; languid; listless.” – a bit that way towards the end of this. Didn’t fully proofread and make changes…but, like, y’know, geez, uh, well…)
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January 29th, zero-7, 3:32pm, a Monday, yesterday – a recent acquisition on my player, the cassette of Dylan’s Nashville Skyline – buck at Turk and Hyde, from one of the many sellers there.
Wikipedia entry for it, through Dogpile: out in ’69 – considered by the writer of the article Mr. Tambourine Man’s 9th “proper studio album”. (Me, not so much into the man, really – same category as the Beatles – there are other Sixties musical entities I am so much more into…the Doors, for example, way so much more. But I’m digressing…)
The album said, alliteratively, to be a “dramatic departure” for Dylan. Complete country music immersion, says the article scribe. Previously, poetic folk, then rock and roll. And on and on and on – go there if you are interested.
Bought the tape for “Lay Lady Lay”, mainly, tho’ I’m enjoying the entirety of it. Wikipedia on that song: originally written for Midnight Cowboy – a very interesting fact. But Dylan didn’t deliver on time. Also, there’s an interesting paragraph about how music executives suggested things for the song that Dylan wasn’t buying, creatively. Also, Kris Kristofferson, then working as a janitor in the Columbia Studios where this was recorded, had some part in the creative process.
Anyway…listening to that Dylan tape in my room alone, eating the delish eggplant appetizer I’ve just discovered at the halal meat market near the hotel – just short of 3 bucks, and pure dining pleasure. Had a new Sasha Grey picture on my wall – gone is the one of her in an AC/DC t-shirt that I’ve had up for weeks. This new one from the recent Vegas porn convention, and she’s in some “mistress” outfit, looking very seductive. My selection from the about two dozen pics of her at MySpace.com/sashagrey.
And also in my possession, two Incubus discs (been wanting to listen to some newer music – they happened to be on sale at Turk and Hyde for cheap, so went for ‘em – plus at the same time, AC/DC’s Back in Black – all three for three dollars – the seller gave me a break.)
And…Incubus – Wikipedia: five members, alternative rock, out of
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Calabasas, in California. Geez, their picture – kinduv too nerdy, clean-cut. Been around 15 years, which surprises me. Multi-platinum. Make Yourself, from ’99, and Morning View from two years later. (These are the two discs I have – the first is a burn.)
Mainly into ‘em ‘cause I think Sasha Grey mentioned them at her MySpace…their name has floated in and out of my attention…mainly through Rolling Stone mag mentions, I think. Well, like the covers of their albums – first in ’95, Fungus Amongus – like the mushroom reference. Cover with an Amanita muscaria specimen. Good titles, overall…would probably get their entire catalog and give it a good listen.
Have got into a bit of the two discs I have – just okay. Frankly, just this morning, listened, and was okay with the sound, but then got so much more into Hamilton, Joe Frank, and Reynolds, “Don’t Pull Your Love”. Don’t hate me.
And…that AC/DC disc – “Rock and Roll Ain’t Noise Pollution” – bought it mainly for that. Have got many of the others on that first post-Bon Scott album on the ’92 live one that I’ve got currently and have listened to a lot.
And…out on the street yesterday, found a nylon jacket I like a lot and will keep, plus a metal bowl that is my second incense burner, plus a pair of light linen pants, and a plastic cup that’s of a make I like.
And back to my listening to the entire unabridged Dune on audio cassette – the 12th of 32 sides, which would make it then about a third through.
And the concept of “mentat pain amplifiers”…Dogpiled this – first Dune hit was the ninth, for a site called “The Sietch”. Thought the idea was interesting. Used by the evil, power-hungry Baron Harkonnen.
3:55pm…out to get an onion for something I was cooking. Met a Cuban guy in the hotel who wanted to sell me an opened bottle of wine – not much drunk from it – gave him the change I had, eight cents short of three. He seemed pleased to get it.
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And…spent a buck and 30 for a stick of butter, and that onion. And that
wine: two-thousand-five Napa Cab, from some outfit called Harding Estates. Had just a very little bit of it – seemed too vinegary, didn’t like it, didn’t have more.
Much more to my taste, cleansing my palate, a buck small bottle of Belgian mango nectar, from that halal meat market near the hotel.
4:16pm. Library still open for nearly two hours. But had the Dune, which was really occupying me. And, that jacket I found – from something called the Independent Truck Company – slogan, “Built to Grind”. And liked the cross design on a breast, an equilaterial cross, all four arms of the same length.
And…well, Blogger.com, the site I’ve been posting at for three years…they’ve revamped the site, with some fuckin’ Google connection, it looks like. Been wanting to avoid signing up for that, but couldn’t get logged on yesterday without really making that change, so went for it.
Have been veering away from straight-up Google, frankly – using Dogpile.com as the search engine – it contains Google. But, anyway, guess the change is okay – don’t really want to align with Google, or any fuckin’ corporate shit pile…tho’, of course, the U.S. Treasury is cutting me my 900-some bucks each month…
And…Dune…there’s mention of a very addictive “drug/music combination” that affects the “deepest consciousness”. Interesting idea of Herbert’s.
And…onions, doing a lot of those lately – cheap, nutritious. But not advised in my Sex and Yoga paperback for some…advised for some tantrics – guess I’m in that camp. Well, in another book about harmful and healing foods, page on onions – how they are much represented on ancient Egyptian tombs – more than any other plant, in fact.
6:25pm. Call from friend B.D. – meeting him sometime tomorrow, in Japantown. Told me he’s the “global spokesperson” – their designation for him – for a big group of Filipino models – trying to get them work in the
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U.S. Didn’t know about this – know he’s very into Japanese pop stars. Well, the man seemed pretty hyper, upbeat, which isn’t always the case.
6:40pm. Call from Odd Fellow brother P. – wondering when the main library closed. Monday it was, so it had been shut since six. He was disappointed – figured it might be open until 10 some nights, but that’s never the case. Some branches are open until 9pm some nights.
And…mentioned to B.D. about the Incubus CDs I’d just bought, plus the AC/DC. And me listening to Blood, Sweat & Tears on the Nitecap jukebox a few days ago – a Tenderloin dive bar two blocks from the hotel. B.D. once a radio deejay, and he has a deep knowledge of and love for music, the kind of rock and pop from the past four decades I am into as well.
6:49pm. Friend T. wanted to visit – was in a welcoming mood, so said that was fine. Getting himself together after the loss of a friend…helped him secure a more lucrative General Assistance payout by writing a letter saying I’d seen him each day for a month. A white lie, you can call it…plus gave him my T-Mobile statement to show I was actually living where I said I was. Guess this won’t repercuss (an actual word? Microsoft Word’s underlining it in red…) on me.
6:51pm. Call from friend D. – waiting to get into a shelter. (Geez, so many of the people I know are so on the edge of poverty. But D.’s getting himself together.) He’s going out to Fort Miley every day, and has been sober for five weeks, about. Good for him. Soon he’ll be out at a treatment facility on Treasure Island – he’s been needing to do something along these lines for months, and years.
And downstairs to get T. – a tenant just then being escorted out in handcuffs by two S.F.P.D. officers – the fun never stops in the hotel. And I was tonguing the empty space in an upper right molar where the filling fell out – really need to attend to that. And…T. up to my room – my hospitality offered – gave him the last of a rice and onion soup I’d made, and a can of tuna, and he surely enjoyed that Napa Cab I didn’t want. And various topics discussed – such as the terrible landlording by Hindus at some hotels in San Francisco, and his career as drag queen Joan Jett-Blakk…more later…
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Well…new blog post at MySpace.com/sashagrey. Will hereby summarize, with additional commentary…
She’ll be on the Tyra Banks talk show on February 8th – a reason to turn the tube on, frankly. (Was gonna watch that Rolling Stone intern wannabe program on MTV, Sundays at 10pm, but missed it this last time – only thing I plan on watching, apart from SNL – which was a repeat this past Saturday. Getting cash in two days – might buy a TV Guide and watch some more from the televised airwaves.)
But, as I was saying…Sasha on that talk show – gonna mark it in my little agenda book, tune in 4 sho’…
And: “Sit back and enjoy the art of montage.” is her quote from this posting…whut dat mean? I guess she’s referring to the editing done on her comments…which are probably a bit too “racy” (and beyond) for mainstream tube fare.
And…says she’s currently reading Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo. Geez, now I gots 2 get dat audio book…just requested it. But it’s only 3 fuckin’ tapes – the novel’s a monster – a monstrous abridgement. Well, currently listening to the unabridged Dune reading – half an hour short of 24 hours than one is!
And…checking in to the fan comments at Sasha’s MySpace…one Brad says: “Heaven forbid they give people the straight dope.”
To which a Maurice replies: “What would that be Brad?” Good question…
And then these 3 paragraphs from from J.T.:
Just curious...........would you ever accept an invitation to be on the O' Reilly Factor or The Glenn Beck Show??? That would be something to behold; watching Sasha trying to out shout that pompous blowhard O' Reilly (then again I've seen some of Sasha's work, she's can shout with the best of them),or dealing with the manic ex-cokehead ranting of Glenn Beck . He would likely give the badmouth to Sasha to please the Stupid
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rubes,afterwards he'd run to the nearest Smut Shack to seek out her “educational "films for "research". (YUCK. Just imagined that idiot in his living room pleasuring himself to the erotica that is Sasha Grey. Okay. Go to the bathroom.Vomit.) Wow. More publicity for Sasha. More groovy ratings for Fox or CNN. More shock and horror for the yokels in the south and midwest. More horny losers whacking to Sasha Grey......ya see everybody wins. Don't you just fake morality and quest for high ratings. Soooo Miss Grey what's your answer????
Curious Bystander: JT P.S.: Sasha if you go O'Reilly just smirk a lot,maybe he'll get pissed off and cut your microphone. An angry O'Reilly always fetches good ratings for Rupert Murdoch.
Current viewing: "The World At War" dvd box set.Yeah I'm still watching it. I know, I'm slow and stupid. Don't take offense Sasha,just trying to be a wise ass. Good luck,babe.
Well, a lot there…must look at this more carefully. And Sasha actually replied to J.T.: “I would love to do a show like the O' Reilly Factor , he would put his foot in his mouth and show himself off as the hypocrite he is.”
And here’s Gordon:
I cant wait to watch Tyra dealing with true beauty upstage her. There are lots of surface (velveeta) cuties, but with your depth of interest, sense of style, and taste in music/art/reading etc. makes you amazing. Im a little biased since I hold almost all the same interests, hehe...Keep on bein a freaky sista, look what the "normal" people have done with the world.
And here’s Master Jack and Choke on Tyra:
Good to see Tyra's stepping her talk-show game up. Dressing up in a fat suit to see how people on the street react is so late 90's.
So there you go – more later from another location, another computer…got a few pages of my own notes, but, I say, more power to Sasha!
Monday, January 29, 2007
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Back to early this Monday morning…candle lit, incense on, sugar cubes in a jar that came with an appetizer of eggplant from Bulgaria. Euro underarm deodorant applied. Seven-and-a-half hours until a library computer, six-and-a-half to one in the Western Addition.
2:21am. Out to get an Arizona Green Tea from the 24-hour market on the same block as the hotel. Plus wanted an onion for leftover rice, to make a soup – seemed to remember the place had those – tho’ very, very little else in the way of fresh anything – all bagged or canned, otherwise.
It was chilly out there, and they did have an onion – a buck for the drink, 35 for the onion – standard Tenderloin price. Potato, also a third of a buck.
And turned on the Dune audio book. Concept of someone being “water soft” – having too much water in their bodies. The natives were used to an extreme dehydration, water being a very scarce commodity on Arrakis. This idea has stayed with me for years, ever since first hearing of it years ago.
And…brought down to night front desk man J.J. a manila envelope with the last several dozen blog pages. He’d asked for something to read – in particular, magazines, but it was all I had.
And all the desert stuff in Dune reminded me of the America song, “A Horse with No Name” – desert setting for that one.
And three days then, just 72 hours, until I had some money in my bank account. But still had about 25 left that I’d earned for doing work the previous day for Odd Fellow brother P.
And…looked on my shelves and actually found other reading material besides my blog for all-night desk man J.J. – including a Rolling Stone with a James Brown tribute, a New Yorker I’d found, plus an Entertainment Weekly.
And got to some of the exercising I do with a punctured bicycle tube and a broom – a barbell-like device, and I can really feel it. In some ways, better than a barbell, since the resistance increases as the rubber stretches.
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And…reference to the word “sardonic” in Dune, and its connection to greatness. Never been certain what sardonic meant…interesting that a Dogpile brings up Wikipedia’s Ambrose Bierce article as the first hit. The Free Dictionary defines the word: “Scornfully or cynically mocking.” That’s Bierce alright. Dune has it that the great need to be sardonic.
6:32am, up again after falling asleep. Flipped the Dune tape that was in my player. Had a Sasha Grey dream – her in an expensive dress, maybe at some film opening, laughing at something in a glamorous manner. Also, someone who was judging her in a negative way, his head began turning like Linda Blair’s in The Exorcist, and each time it turned to the front there was a different, new weird face.
6:54am, back from a shit, shower. No shave, tho’ – but will probably do that at some soon point. Not something I do every day. I believe I look a lot younger when I do. And…thought to myself, a computer in two hours. And had washed my hair also – don’t do that that often either – doesn’t need it, and don’t want to stress my locks.
7:13am. Continuing with Dune, the palace intrigue of a royal court. And: had A.E. van Vogt on my mind – mentioned as an inspiration for far-out French graphic artist Phillipe Druillet. Dogpiled to a Wikipedia entry: died in two-thousand. Considered one of the greats of the “Golden Age” of science fiction, the Forties. And on and on.
And this morning, pulled out pages from an Open Exchange mag I’d picked up some while back, including material on: the benefits to health of calorie restriction, Stan Grof, Kriya Yoga, a product called Natural Cellular Defense, how speakers can create an “instant community” with an audience, sexual fantasy, healthy sex, a Kundalini yoga master, the idea of “staying or splitting” in a relationship, ideas about Valentine’s Day, and the need for boundaries in matters of intimacy between couples.
And Dogpiling for phrases and ideas from Johnny Carson’s The Tonight Show. Nothing immediately but Ed McMahon’s famous introductory phrase. But…Wikipedia has a whole “Classic Gags” section, and that deserves some quoting, as follows…
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“The Tea Time Movie”, with host Carson as host Art Fern, and busty blonde Carol Wayne as “the Matinee Lady” co-host. Quote:
A parody of 1950s-style advertising pitchmen, the skit consists of a rapid-fire series of fake advertisements for products and companies sponsoring a late-night movie. Invariably the jokes refer to his buxom Matinée Lady assistant, and at least once in every skit a variation of the "Slauson Cutoff" joke is made (e.g., "You can find our store by heading down Hwy. 101 until you get to the Slauson Cutoff. Get out of the car, cut off your slauson, and get back in the car."), as is a reference to "Drive until you get to the FORK IN THE ROAD" (a map is unfolded to reveal a table fork).
Well, you have to see it. Available on DVD or video now…and also, the “Carnac the Magnificent” series of skits:
Carson plays a psychic who is given sealed envelopes (that McMahon invariably states, with a flourish, have been kept "hermetically sealed inside a mayonnaise jar underneath Funk & Wagnalls' porch since noon today"). Carnac holds an envelope to his head and recites the punchline to a joke contained within the envelope, then rips open the envelope and reads the matching question inside. If a joke falls flat with the audience, Carnac invariably passes a comedic curse upon them (e.g., "May a bloated yak change the temperature of your jacuzzi!").
Well…got a few more lines to fill…back to the sardonic Bierce, I guess…mocking in his scornful manner…I had a collection called The Devil’s Advocate out from the library for a while. Friend and Odd Fellow brother P. was recently reading a book of the man’s Civil War stories – Bierce was a soldier in that, and P. was a Marine for 14 years, including a stint in the Gulf. From the Wikipedia entry: “Bierce's lucid, unsentimental style has kept him popular when many of his contemporaries have been consigned to oblivion.”
Also: “Such was his reputation that it was said his judgment on any piece of prose or poetry could make or break a writer’s career." A lot of power, and wielded, apparently, with no little glee. For certain Mark Twain, his more popular contemporary, frequently felt Bierce’s sting. Not one to fuck with.
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On the way to the temporary location of the audio books at the library, passed by the section of shelves devoted to actor biographies – saw one on Robert Mitchum in particular. Maybe get into those again – a while back, was reading a whole lot of actor and TV person bios.
And…this being Sunday, yesterday, sometime in the afternoon…wasn’t resisting a fresh pot of yerba mate tea. Might need to cut back on fluid intake, and on eating in general, give my system a rest. Helps me focus better.
And…was listening to Lolita on audio disc, the very incredible Jeremy Irons reading. Liked this line by Humbert Humbert, the nymphet-obsessed anti-hero of the novel: “…specific or synthetic.” About objects of sexual desire – a real person, or one made up. An intriguing overall theme, a motif.
And…it’s so funny, H.H. is a Euro upper class person, and in the book he’s amid the citizens of mid-America in the middle part of the 20th century – many humorously condescending observations about those folks.
And…loved the use of the word “purloined” in the Nabokov. Also, a major Poe word, as in the stolen letter. (My current blog name, of course, is from the Poe poem. Possible poetical porn title: The Purloined Pussy.)
And…liked this joking reference to Joyce in Lolita: “A Portrait of the Artist as a Younger Brute”. (Humbert calls himself “ape” frequently as well. And, speaking of Joyce…had the complete Ulysses on audio book, a really massive undertaking, but returned it – just couldn’t now get into it, tho’ I thought I could. Am currently attending to the unabridged Dune on audio – a half hour short of 24 hours it is, and more fun that the Joyce classic, geez.)
And…like this alliteration in Lolita: “A waste of withered weeds.” And there’s much untranslated French in it – beautiful, but I don’t know what is being said. But it’s called “the language of love”. (Joyce preferred, I think, the Italian, as the most musical. Photo in the liner notes to that audio Ulysses of the man playing a guitar. Lots of music in general in the mythic Dublin epic.)
And…more alliteration, with four, count ‘em four instances of the same
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sound: “driving through the drizzle of the dying day.” Really pushing the envelope on that.
And…the line by Humbert: “…a foot of engorged” something – didn’t get that last word. His dick, I guess. Pretty fuckin’ long…maybe he was referring to an act of carnal congress involving his pedal instrument.
9:46am, yesterday morning. Got to the last of Lolita. Had just taken a shit. Had already had a lot of yerba mate tea, nothing eaten yet. Wanting to fast.
9:56am. Put used yerba mate tea bags in the sun. Am recycling them by adding them to the soil of my poinsettia plant, the one I found on New Year’s Day on the street and brought to my room. Lit incense…focusing closely on the final part of Lolita.
And that last phrase reminded me of The Last of Sheila, an interesting, unusual ’73 movie with James Coburn. (James Mason also in it – starred, I believe, as Humbert Humbert in the Kubrick Lolita.) The Wikipedia entry says: “The film is brilliantly crafted, both in its writing and direction.” Something to find and watch.
10:19am. Got a call from someone – name didn’t come up, so it’s not one I put onto my phone’s directory. Didn’t answer. And got into Dune about this time – there’s the Emperor Shaddam IV – thought of a NatLamp joke name for him: Shaddup.
4:53pm, yesterday…had purchased for about three bucks – had just done work for Odd Fellow brother P. and had cash – an eggplant appetizer, in a jar, from the halal meat market up the block. It was so tasty and satisfying. Guess I’ll buy another today…but want to be able to repair my bicycle tomorrow – ten bucks should do that at the Road Rage shop on Folsom I go to.
And…got a call from the lobby of the hotel – guy I knew downstairs, wanted to visit. But not in the mood for company – told Vic, the front desk guy, to say I wasn’t in.
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And…title for something: Love and Money.
And…had bought also a quarter little piece of chocolate, and devoured that – fine little item, one that’d make a good gift. Came with a little sticker of two fish, and I put that onto my bicycle’s frame, which is already festooned with Royal Gate vodka labels, Miller High Life ones, banana stickers, and more, more, more.
And…back to Dune. There’s the scene at the beginning where the Reverend Mother of the Bene Gesserit brings out the ol’ gom jabbar to test the humanity of 15-year-old Paul Atreides. (He’s that old at the start of the Herbert novel – ol’ Kyle McLaughlin already much older than that when he made the Lynch flick in the very early Eighties.)
And that thing…thought at first it was that fuckin’ box that the Reverend Mother has Paul put his hand in. But no, it’s the poison-tipped stinger she’s got on her finger.
And…glad to have at that point yesterday 27 bucks in paper, plus a buck and four cents in change…have spent about ten of that subsequently. That Bulgarian eggplant appetizer was so very yummy and rich, and priced within the reach of even my meager budget. And cleaned the glass container it came in and am storing sugar cubes therein.
7:04pm – had had a little nap, then back to Dune. Missed a portion of a side of tape during sleep, but that’s okay. The scene with Paul fighting with Gurney Halleck, or Duncan Idaho. Recalled the scene in the Lynch movie – Patrick “Star Trek’s Captain Picard” Stewart was in it. (Yeah, as with The Maltese Falcon and Lolita audio books, recalling the filmed versions, those renditions of the characters. Impossible not to.)
And…sidetracked here a bit: http://www.space.com/sciencefiction/dune_jodorowsky_991019.html has a good essay by one Robert Scott Martin, from ’99, discussing what was planned for Dune before David Lynch got a hold of it. Here’s what I glean from it…calls the Lynch version “unlucky”. Thinks it could’ve been much stranger. For instance, in the early 70s, visionary Mexican filmmaker
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Alejandro “El Topo” Jodorowsky began work on it. But, well, things were different in movie science fiction land after Star Wars, so it didn’t get made. Pink Floyd said they’d provide music. Giger, the Alien dude, was planning visuals for the Harkonnens.
And: Salvador Dali up for the role of the aforementioned Shaddam IV, but wanted a hundred K for it so, therefore, goodbye, Dali…
Anyway, a lot there, but I’ve got only ten minutes left on this machine and will get back to regularly-scheduled programming:
Like the use of some British woman’s voice as Princess Irulan, the galactic historian, in the Dune audio book – the rest done by a guy.
And…out last evening to get a bite to eat, a snack, and get a little walking in – purchased a small bag of Doritos, a “Blazin’” kind, tho’ they were easy to tolerate, unlike the “Salsa Verde” flavor ones, which are indeed nearly lethally hot to my tongue. Also bought a coconut popsicle, 50 cents, at the little market next to the hotel – they’ve got hundreds of these in various flavors. Could see getting into these more in the coming summery months.
And talked briefly with one of the guys at that halal meat market, told him how much I loved that eggplant appetizer he had for sale. Well, he said he made his own at home. Later on, I thought that I shoulda gone really hyperbolic on the dude and said I’d nearly died after one bit of that stuff.
8:09pm – had one of the two Miller Lites in a can given me earlier that day by Odd Fellow brother P. And continuing with Dune…Jessica is Leto’s concubine – Paul is termed “heir designate”. Then early this morning, one-29-zero-seven, 1:55am – strange dream involving both Madonna and Bob Weir – she told me to relax at one point. And Weir took her place on stage after she was done and smoked a cigarette. And…Jean Harlow quote on my “Wild Women” calendar, including a part about not wearing a bra. And…Dune – at a part where the technology of stillsuits is discussed. And that Paul is fulfilling the legend about “He shall know your ways…” – the Fremen deep desert ways – he knows how to put on that suit. But, like, the Bene Gesserit had implanted this information years before…
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Back to Saturday, two days ago:
8:30pm – listening to the Jeremy Irons reading of Lolita. Humbert Humbert is not stopping at even the use of sleeping pills to knock the nymphet out so he can have his first way with her. (Subsequently, they are having sex virtually non-stop – and he’s not her first. And: reminds me of the current problems some women have with guys slipping ‘em Rohypnol, “the date rape drug”.)
And…title for something – a brief, 100,000 word monograph, perhaps: Sex Fiction. Nice, direct.
10:13pm. Still listening to Lolita – by this time, H.H. and his nymphet are embarked on a U.S.-wide car excursion. A pretty sexy novel…got me thinking thoughts along those lines. My current “partner” in that, one Sonya, from a partial 1988 Chic magazine I found in the hotel – her on a tropical beach amid mangoes. But I think I’m ready to move on from her, as is she…maybe get over to a place I haven’t been in a while, The Magazine, there on Larkin. Perhaps for a dollar I can find something appealing. Or on the street at Turk and Hyde.
And was exercising that evening with a punctured bicycle tube and a broomstick – a decent alternative to a full-on barbell. And thinking I should have eaten less that day. And it was about an hour and a half until Saturday Night Live.
10:52pm. Changed a Lolita disc – ten in the whole set. Was doing alternate nostril breathing – a very calming, centering practice. And had my digital voice recorder out, full of notes I’d taken months previously. Am beginning to use that again and switch away from handwritten notes. Maybe do them by hand in my room, and when out use the recorder.
11:30pm. SNL, turned Lolita off. Giving the comedy program a chance, tho’ I have currently only two things I plan to tune in to on cable: that, and the MTV series about intern wannabes at Rolling Stone. And noted: “want a woman in my bed.” They say to be careful about what one wishes for, ‘cause you might get it.
And: host was Ludacris – and realized I’d just seen this not very long ago. Only three new SNLs a month?! I think there were new ones the past two weeks, a repeat three weeks ago. At the very top, a satire of President Bush – him declaring war on Vietnam. Thought I’d seen that one before. But when Ludacris appeared, I knew it was a rerun.
So, began clicking through to see what else was on: a Star Trek from Sixties TV
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that I probably could’ve watched. Then a very beautiful Bollywood actress interviewed. On TBS, the Will Smith Wild, Wild West remake – would love seeing those original Robert Conrad programs on DVD – also, Mr. Phoebe Cates co-starring in that flick – still married to her?
And continuing to scan up the Comcast selections: Jessica Simpson acne commercial – geez, she really has a strong female presence. AMC, the end of Commando – a distraught pre-teen Alyssa Milano – Arnold’s Matrix has this one liner after impaling his adversary on a hurled metal pipe: “Let off some steam, Bennett!” – see, they’d been tussling in a room with all kinds of steamy pipes and after the impaling much of the heated water emerges.
Anyway, more on the tube: a few seconds of South Park – Sasha Grey was watching a DVD for this a while back – it’s just okay to me, tho’ I know there are rabid fans. A Hallmark movie with a Trojan horse – beautiful actress portraying ancient Greek royalty. Then a really crappy flick on the Sci-Fi Channel – but, in my worldview, even a crappy science fiction movie’s better than a good regular drama. Sanford and Son rerun, with the late Demond Wilson. (At least I think he’s deceased – didn’t I just read that in Rolling Stone?)
And…commercial for the Magic Bullet food processor – would surely get one of these. Planning to get a ten buck similar thingie from Walgreen’s in 3 days. There’s also a hand-held wand device that might work as well. And then, back to SNL and Ludacris hosting. Before turning it off, got caught up in the Dr. Archibald Bitchslap spot – pretty funny! I think in his schtick Ludacris makes fun of gangsta rapping.
And: next week, February 3rd, new SNL, with Drew Barrymore hosting, and musical guest Lily Allen. Read about her in Rolling Stone, I think. (Just Dogpiled her – don’t think I’d really get into her…British. Whatever…anything special?)
4:21am, the next day, Sunday. Up – thinking I was pissing too much, had too much fluid. Eyes hurting upon awakening – not a good sign. Maybe my digestive system as a whole is stressed by too much. Need to really give all ingestion a big break.
And quote from one Florence King on my “Wild Words from Wild Women” desk calendar – she says she believes in reincarnation, but not “life before noon” – ha ha ha! Dogpiled her: born in ’36 – American novelist, essayist, columnist, says Wikipedia. Also, column in National Review, which said of her that she is "serving up a smorgasbord of curmudgeonly critiques about rubes and all else bothersome to the Queen of Mean…" I like that, the Queen of Mean…
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Well…I like this calendar’s quotes because they are exposing me to many new names I’ve not been aware of. Same thing with MySpace.com/sashagrey – she’s just 18 and is into a lot of music and art that’s not been on my radar.
And…put on that morning, yesterday, a Wayne Dyer disc on the subject of intention. He’s a good one to listen to to start a day. Was saving the last two Lolita discs for later…upon arising, it’s good to receive spiritual counseling and not immediately plunge into the sexually-obsessive world that Nabokov delineates.
8:03am – I guess I went back to sleep, but then up again. Had earlier lit a candle, and that was still on. And the day’s Wild Women quote, from Jennifer Love Hewitt – actually, from the previous day – slipped it under neighbor S.’s door – been giving him each calendar page the day after.
And…thought to myself, four hours until the library was open at noon. And had no money, no working bicycle. But had those two Lolita discs, so felt I was rich in some thing.
And title for something, Castanedan: Separated Realities.
And loved this adjective in Lolita: “Coleridgian”. A word a former English major would appreciate. (Reference also to that guy from Porlock, who interrupted Sam Coleridge during his composition of his Kublai Khan poem, so that subsequently he couldn’t remember the dream wherefrom it came and thus left posterity with but the extant 54 lines.)
And…doing lately the “Frog Pose”, a yoga move from this Sex and Yoga paperback I’ve been reading. Well, at least the hand portion – palms together above head. It’s really working for me of late, that position.
And…line for some fiction, some character: “They could be students. Or nuns, of a kind.” 28 women, or round about that number, is what is being referred to.
And now…for the rest of this page and for the final of these four pages of this posting, want to attend to the lengthy last blog at Sasha Grey’s MySpace…
It’s about her recent trip to a porn convention in Las Vegas, entitled “Seduce and Destroy”. I tell you, the lady has a definite way with the words, and only 18! (Tho’ shortly to turn 19.) Stayed at The Venetian, with her boyfriend. (Well, she has sex on camera with various and sundry, and how, but there’s the one guy she goes home to.)
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And…had left off last time in this with her and her boyfriend not being able to get their Playstation working in the hotel – and they’d brought about two dozen games and movies.
And…had to be, on the first day of four, in makeup at 7:15am. Doing publicity for a company called Evil Angel. (Made me think of a mirror image name: Good Devil.) Also, apparently it was cold in Vegas, so she had to wear her boyfriend’s track jacket and her own Adidas pants.
First day was “all trade”, no fans, so it wasn’t busy. Someone named Sandra Romain kept her company – probably another porn starlet. (Dogpiled…Romanian adult film actress. Born ’78. Represented, as Sasha is, by Mark Spiegler – he’s got about two dozen women clients. Or: further reading – she may have moved on from Mr. Spiegler. Adept, says the Wikipedia entry, at anal – even “triple anal”. Said to be particularly rough in her scenes, to the point of hitting others, not just receiving that attention. Five-three, bisexual, over 300 films under her belt, so to speak).
Done by half after two, but didn’t get back to her room until 45 minutes later as she was asked for so many autographs – a very hot rising star. Changed into comfy shoes, and her and B.F. had lunch with two friends. Then back at the hotel, German doc crew in her room for an interview.
Had time after the crew left, “sooooo…Ian gave me some damn goooooood head.” Then this and that, non-sexual…then to the Tropicana and saw that preserved dead bodies exhibit – heard about this, friends saw it when the show was in Frisco. Didn’t go myself – another presentation I can do without.
Then a walk back to the hotel – said she got some lotion “so that way we would not get the hose” – not sure what that means – does she mean something about “hos”, as in rap slang for whores? Vegas has, I heard, plenty of those coming out of the woodwork, the metalwork, all the works. Then straight to bed for Sasha, exhausted from being on her feet all day – maybe her B.F. gave her that fantastic head while she was standing.
Day the Second: figured she could sleep in, but no. (She does a multiple letter “o” thing for that word, the Belushi SNL reference – I like that.) 10am photo shoot for a mag called Hot Video – French. Pictures taken in front of the Paris Hotel – she wasn’t sure if this was because of her interest in French culture – she likes Richart chocolates, for one thing – or some sort of tribute, or “jest” – good word.
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Had her “naked ass” exposed, cold in the Vegas wind, for that photo shoot. Tough being a porn starlet. People standing around, tourists, taking pictures on their cell phones – says it pissed her off a bit since those images would be “a masturbatory tool” for that one person and not for the masses. Then quotes Marie Antoinette about letting them eat cake…
Done around noon, ate stale pasta at an “el fake-o Italian place”. Got to a porn convention booth thereafter, did an L.A. Times interview, started signing for fans at 2pm. Did this for four hours – geez, a whole lotta writing! Then did six interviews. Very tired when it was over, could barely walk back to her room – hung on B.F. Ian’s shoulder the entire way. Soaked her feet.
8pm, they went to a party held by AdultDVDTalk.com at The Palms – “nice contemporary interior design” there, she says. She has an eye for the aesthetical, to be sure. Then, “the Spiegler crew” – her agent is Mark Spielger – went to a strip club party. Lame idea, she says. Left at midnight, forced to eat at a McDonald’s – tho’ later learned that the café at The Venetian is 24/7. (I woulda known that.)
Day Three – rehearsals for the AVN – Adult Video News? – awards show, which took a real long time. Dinner at some place where it took two hours to get a table. Then to the Evil Angel party – but she’s not 21 so she couldn’t get in – oh, the irony! Writes Sasha: “I can fuck on camera but I can't drink jeeeeezus.”
Day the Fourth: Signing for five hours, starting at 9am – fans said to be really cool – but her feet were beginning to hurt a lot. Had a nap for the first time since arriving in Vegas, says it made a big difference. Got makeup done so she looked like Bowie’s Aladdin Sane, but in silver. Then put on a silver mini and a “half shirt” – like a Roger Corman movie, says she. (She knows her film history.)
Unhappy with the treatment at some Mandalay Bay event. Run-in with Gene Simmons…he told her her outfit was nice, but that Bowie wouldn’t want her. She said that she knew, that he was married. Simmons says that Bowie’s gay.
Well…she walks away from Mr. Kiss, and has this to write:
”He was trying to imply that my man Bowie completely loves the dick! We all know he enjoys a taste of everything-but damn Gene; don't be jealous because I didn't paint my face like Kiss! That whole situation pretty much killed my mood.”
And…the AVN awards were pretty boring for Sasha…a highlight was Larry Flynt’s speech about the First Amendment, how good it was, especially to porn
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industry folks, and she agreed.
Left before one in the morning…then to a non-porn Hard Rock party – said to be a nice change. Saw the Strokes there, and Incubus. Left about 4am, on the day they were to leave Vegas. Left 1pm – ate crepes on the way out. Final line, and a good one, well-crafted: “A few tumbleweeds rolled on by and sun set in a blaze of purples and crimson toned hues.” [Yes, a fine line, tho’ a “the” needs to go in between “and” and “sun”. Plus a hyphen between “crimson” and “toned”.]
So…much enjoyed that…maybe Sasha will post longer entries like this in days and nights to come – tho it’s not always she goes to a Vegas porn convention.
And additionally, to fill out this final page, will consider fan quotes posted at her MySpace:
Comment by “MrFuckinSunshine” about the Gene Simmons incident – he says Kiss were okay, but that Bowie’s “an artist, a pioneer, and a visionary”, who inspired many others to become artists, pioneers, and visionaries.
Then another fan responds to MrFuckinSunshine, in praise of Sasha’s ability to express herself with such “feeling, detail, and insight.” Makes the Hunter Thompson Fear and Loathing comparison – Sasha’s a big fan of Hunter’s. And this fan senses more than one book in the young lady.
And this from Lucky: “He drank your piss. wow! That's love.”
Liked this from Buck Bataille: “Great post. Jogged my boozed brain. But Gene Simmons the buzz killa? You gotta make like a duck and let the pissy comments of old farts like that run right off your back. Ian rocks! Does that make me gay? Hugs to you both.”
So…there you go…had myself some while ago fantasies about going to Vegas…stay at the Luxor, for the Egyptian theme. Room service…stroll around the strip, absorb the milieu.
But not so into it these days…the Hunter Thompson connection interesting, and the Rat Pack history. Maybe one of these days and nights. Hunter connected also to that Mitchell Brothers place on O’Farrell, a short walk and even shorter bicycle ride for me – was the night manager there for a while. Really enjoyed the audio book version of Fear and Loathing. Haven’t seen the Depp flick yet…anyway…there you go again. More later from elsewhere.
Sunday, January 28, 2007
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3:36pm, yesterday, Saturday, very near the very end of January. Back in my room, alone, with two new audio books: Ray Bradbury’s Something Wicked This Way Comes, and Nabokov’s Lolita. Was listening to the Bradbury…very Huck and Tom.
4:01pm. Back to Lolita. Saturday Night Live in 7 and a half hours. The library was open for another two hours. Still had some food, mainly what friend K. had given me as a very nice gift – could cook up spaghetti. Also, my bicycle’s chain was still fucked up, or else I’d go out and ride, get exhilarated. And someone had left a message on my cell – didn’t answer it. Was being a hermit.
And…words like “translucent” and “aloof” in Lolita – such excellent, rich language. And lines like “Nymphets do not occur in polar regions.”
So, was having a Top Ramen that K. had given me. Needing to fast, but, like, I think St. Augustine said about some other carnal pleasure, he’d begin tomorrow. (Didn’t complete my U.C. Berkeley English degree, but taking classes in guys in Augustine still is part of me.)
And…title for something: Great Good. A porn novel. Or one that has a lot of sex scenes.
And…Humbert Humbert, the narrator of Lolita – says he got a great deal of enjoyment “trifling with psychiatrists.” Reminded me of something in Alan Watts, about what he called “one upsmanship” between a therapist and the person receiving that therapy.
And…in the Kubrick flick – haven’t seen it all myself – I believe the first time H.H. sees the title character, she’s got on heart-shaped glasses. Not mentioned in the novel – one of Stan’s genius touches. Wonder what Vladimir thought of the movie treatment?
And…rubber band on my right wrist – had been around a sheaf of my note pages when at the Tenderloin computer center – put it around my wrist to safeguard it. But upon leaving, forgot where I’d put it – thought I’d been careless, tho’ usually I am not. Back in my room saw it…glad of that, that I
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hadn’t misplaced it.
5:32pm…napped, maybe an hour, maybe more. In my room, tend to be reclined most of the time, thus tending towards the reverie, the reverential, and slumber. Put on the third Lolita disc out of ten, had a few crackers I’d gotten free, plus Skippy, which K. had given me. And no alcohol that day, yesterday. And none today…should repeat the two-month abstinence from last year.
5:49pm – decided to take a shower. Thinking of my money in my account in my account in four days. Needed surely to replenish my toothpaste with some of that. And stopped Lolita at a section break to make resumption easy.
And during that shower, had myself an imagined conversation with Winona Ryder and Jessica Alba – they’re both in an upcoming film called The Ten, I’ve read. No sex…we three were at some public house, at a table, and I was laying out for the both of them some thoughts. (But, I must confess, did a while later imagine some configuration, a sexual one, involving the three of us – me on my back, Alba astride me with member inserted, and Winona? Sitting on my face, me performing oral sex. Reminds me of the old National Lampoon taxi cab driver articles, him having sex with stars.)
And…that imagined scene…reminded of something Hillary Clinton said once, about imagining talking with Eleanor Roosevelt – active imagination I think she called it. As I recall, she got a bit of flak from that.
6:31pm. Fresh pot of yerba mate tea made. Had a full big glass from the previous brewing. Thought I was taking in too much fluid. There’s such a thing as flushing out the digestive system, tho’. And…hadn’t had alcohol in about 24 hours. And: it was about 17 and a half hours until the next computer (which is the one I’m using now, noon, on a Sunday, at the library).
And in Lolita, the concept of an incubus. Thought of the related succubus idea. Just Dogpiled, got a Wikipedia reference for the first – it’s also the name of a current band. Definition: “In Western medieval legend, an incubus (plural ‘incubi’) is a demon in male form supposed to lie upon sleepers,
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especially women, in order to have sexual intercourse with them.”
Also: “The incubus drains energy from the woman it performs sexual intercourse upon in order to sustain itself.”
And…about this time finally enjoyed the Texas grapefruit that neighbor Prince had given me a few days previously – he got a big box in the mail, and I was there in the lobby when he’d received it. Figured I’d better get to it. And it was very sweet. I prefer oranges, but this particular one lacked the citric bitterness I associate with the fruit.
2:04pm – noticed that little statue that friend Terence had given me was gone from where I’d put it in a drawer. Hmmm…had left him alone in my room the last time he was visiting. Could he have taken it then? Only explanation. He should’ve asked me. Strange thing to do. Must ask him next time I see him about his.
And…thought to myself that revisiting the work of French fantastic sequential artist Philippe Druillet would be a good thing. Certainly his prodigious output is represented in graphic novel form. Dogpiled and got a Wikipedia on the man: first book, ’66, featured his recurring Loan Sloane character. Inspired by Lovecraft and A.E. van Vogt.
Gigantic stuctures in the backgrounds of his work said to be inspired by Art Noveau, Indian temples, and Gothic cathedrals. Six Loan Sloane adventures collected in ’72 in Six Voyages of Loan Sloane. (I recall reading some of these in Heavy Metal about this time.) This one considered by some to be his masterpiece.
Also…Sloane was the hero of Delirius, from ’73, written by Jacques Lob. And…mid-70s, Metal Hurlant mag published his work – Heavy Metal in the U.S., I guess…’76, worked as designer on William Friedkin’s movie Sorceror.
Anyway…something I’d recommend to Sasha Grey, if it’s escaped her attention…and…in Lolita, like this phrase: “Hollywood harlot”.
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7:36pm. Made myself a meal of canned, cubed potatoes – gift from K. as
well, cooking in broth from a previous culinary creation. And continuing to listen to Lolita – at that point, not even halfway through the entire ten discs. And…liked use of word “swain” by Nabokov…Dogpiled on Dominique Swain’s filmography, and, oddly enough, she was in a remake of Kubrick’s Lolita, from ’97 – she was 17 at the time. A bit old for the 12-year-old that the nymphet is when Humbert Humbert meets her. (She’s not one of the actors whose career I’ve been following – looks like she’s been working continuously, with new films this year as well.)
And…knock upon my hotel room door about this time – had an idea whom (who?) it might be, didn’t answer. Wouldn’t have answered for anyone, basically. I was elsewhere, anyway – in some woman’s arms, and she in mine.
And…well…half a page left on this…new photo at MySpace.com/sashagrey – her in some Bowie-inspired silver one-piece number. The Thing – I mean “Thin” – White Duke’s consort? Me, I prefer the less glam Bowie. Caption refers to “Jhonn Balance” – another new one to me. Dogpiling…Wikipedia entry: founder of British experimental music group Coil. Haven’t heard any of their work. Psychic TV collaboration, for one thing. Know about Genesis P-orridge. And there’s a lot more, but I’m running out of time this posting…
Want to get to the blog posting of Sasha’s…whoa! Super-long entry – the most lengthy she’s ever done!
Got to get to most of it next time…
Discussion of her recent multi-day stint in Las Vegas for a porn convention…drove there with her boyfriend…took forever to pack and forever to get there, she relates…
Pissed in a cup and her loving beau drank “a healthy sip” – whatta guy! But, like, urine is sterile, and there’s the health practice of urine therapy – albeit one is supposed to imbibe of one’s own fluids. And…couldn’t hook their Playstation into the hotel’s system. (Gotta get this posted, quick…)
Saturday, January 27, 2007
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Continuing with Laid Back...surprised by Al Stewart’s “Year of the Cat” the other day – surprised because I’d put it twice on the 30-minute side of a cassette, and there was room for only three other songs. Well, the song is about 7 minutes long, that’s the reason.
And...have been amiss about doing my laundry – can get by with most of what I wear, but my socks were screaming for cleaning. Have not many more than half a dozen pair...so, did ‘em in my room, in a plastic bucket, with hot water from my tea kettle. And dried ‘em on my radiator.
And...line for some character: “It’s coming to a head, so to speak.” (And “Coming to a Head” would be a good chapter title.)
And another line: “Good women are hard to find.” (“Good Women” could be another chapter heading.)
And...was thinking briefly of using Sub Lime as a pen name, but have since adopted the much better “Eldo Rado”. (Have been reading a book called Sex and Yoga, a paperback I got pretty cheap from the reduced price display out in front of Fields, the bookstore, metaphysical kind, on Polk near Bush. Features discussion of the concept of sublimation – as opposed to the repression – of sexuality – therefore, Sub Lime.)
And...considered this about the name of Miss Nova Yarrowstalk, a character in some fiction. Her full first name would be Villanova. As in the Hendrix song “Villanova Junction Blues”.
And...my cayenne regimen continues – am sprinkling amounts into my yerba mate tea.
And...first recording of songs onto a casette in a while, recently, some Steely Dan. But was actually wanting songs from a CD I currently have out on loan to a friend, Katy Lied. In particular, “Rose Darling”, and even more, “Dr. Wu”. Also, “Any World (That I’m Welcome To)” is a favorite from that one.
And...in that sex and yoga book...stuff about tantra, about how its
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philosophy can accept drunkenness as a way to “quick and wonderful results” of a spiritual kind. Tho’ that’s liable to abuse. (After reading that, had something of an excuse to get myself a 40 of Miller High Life. But really didn’t enjoy it that much.)
And...took out from the library yesterday The Maltese Falcon, audio book version. Like it that all the audio books have been moved to a 4th floor location, a small, circular, woodsy corner room. Turns out this will also be temporary, but it’s a good place.
And also new at the library, many self-service check out machines with a good design. Save the staff some work. And probably leading to people being let go from employment due to the automation.
And...back to the room with the goodie, the Dashiell Hammett novel. Liked the saxophone intro at the beginning – appropriate for the noir setting. And...detected (get it, Sam Spade’s a detective) the influence of this novel on William Gibson’s fictions, the ones I like so much, even love.
And...half after three, this yesterday afternoon – Odd Fellow brother P. called – had a job stuffing envelopes, and sealing them. Turned that down – such an arduous task...ten bucks not earned there. Also, some five dollar job – woulda been good to have some cash in my pocket – have got two cents now in my room, nothing in my bank accounts – zero in checking, and I owe on my credit card, over 500 bucks.
And...very excellent reading of the novel – couldn’t, of course, help thinking of Bogart in the movie – but the reader wasn’t doing a straight Bogie. Tho’ his versions of Joel Cairo and “the Fat Man” were pretty much Peter Lorre and Sydney Greenstreet.
And made a call to the computer center in the Tenderloin – was thinking I could get another hour in, but the supervisor yesterday, Josh, said it was still full. Was thinking, since it was a rainy day, no one would show, but I was wrong.
And...the Hammett novel got me thinking of a title for a section of Laid
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Back, the novel: The Maltese Dildo. Still working on the details.
And...called the computer center at half after four, but it was still full, so no more blogging for me yesterday.
And...the novel. At one point, Spade gets Joel Cairo’s gun away from him, then gives it back. At which point Cairo aims it back at Spade – geez, shouldn’t the detective have taken the bullets out as a matter of course?
And...like the San Francisco references in it – and even more particularly, to the Tenderloin/Powell area – like, Spade walks on Sutter to Kearny and buys Bull Durham tobacco at a cigar store.
And...thought of a joking name: “I’m Detective Scrutiny, Frank Scrutiny.” (There’s the phrase “frank scrutiny” in the text.)
And...had a quarter of that 40 of High Life left, and was thinking I’d use it to cook, but got to drinking it by itself.
And...surprised that a little can opener I’d been sold by a guy in the hotel actually worked. Often stuff from him fucks up. Still haven’t learned.
And liked the use of the word “truculence” by Hammett. (Just Dogpiled for a definition – don’t know what it means. Well, Merriam-Webster online doesn’t help: “the quality or state of being truculent” – yeah, right. Well...”truculent” is “feeling or displaying ferocity”. Which Sam Spade often does.
And...made a call to Bank of America about something on my credit card statement. As said, owe them over 500...was concerned about getting additional tacked on fees for not paying the entire amount, and thereby always being behind, always getting ever-greater fines levied.
Well, got a little hot when talking to the live operator – figured dates wrong and thought I’d be getting another two 35 dollar fines. But after freaking out a bit was told that if I paid about 75 next time I could avoid that...steep, but got to do it, got to get that total down...
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And...sex scene in The Maltese Falcon. Very tame – ends before, of course, any explicit details. Ends, in fact, with the glowing yellow-grey eyes of Sam Spade.
And the morning after, the woman, Brigid O’Shaughnessy, still sleeping – Spade takes her apartment key from her clothes and goes there, does a search for the Falcon. Description of the intense scrutiny – actual detective work. Hammett himself had been a Pinkerton agent, and knew the real process. He even dumps trash out onto newspapers, looking for clues. (Pinkerton Agency, same ones that tracked Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, at least in the movies.)
And...perhaps the most intriguing character in the book, Casper Gutman, “the Fat Man”, for whom “the black bird” is such the Holy Grail. As said, excellent reader William Dufris basically does a Greenstreet, but to good effect.
And...thought of title for another chapter of Laid Back about this time: “A Night in the Life”.
And...about this time also had a mix of vodka, honey, and red pepper made by a friend for her sick boyfriend. He didn’t want it at the time, and I’d kept it. Diluted it with yerba mate tea, and drank it. The peppery essence was very present.
And...was impressed with how fast the 70-plus minute discs for the Falcon were going – the time really went fast – guess it was the swift plotting of Hammett.
And...liked the note about Brigid O’Shaughnessy going to a movie theater on Powell Street that was open until one a.m. No such thing now. (Wikipedia says the novel was out in 1930.)
And...at one point, the Falcon’s valued at the then-enormous amount of two million bucks.
And...liked a scene where Spade puts the local San Francisco District
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Attorney in his place. Spade’s his own man, and doesn’t take shit from the local law enforcement.
And...eventually got through listening to the entirety of the novel, about seven hours worth, I think. Thought of a paraphrase, tho’, of the W.C. Fields line: “On the whole, I’d rather be having sex.”
And another title for something – more than a chapter heading for this: Girl Stuff.
And...liked the detail about Thirties phone service – numbers were in the form of, like, “Davenport twenty-twenty.”
And...such a brief reference to John’s Grill, Spade having chops there. It’s a very short line, and currently, the place there just off Powell is advertising the placement in the book big time.
And...Joel Cairo. Referred to repeatedly as a “Levantine”? A way of saying he’s a Jew? Maybe Hammett was an anti-Semite – Cairo is not a virtuous character at all.
And...final line in the novel is: “Well, send her in.” And not that Shakespeare quote that ends the Bogart flick. (And relatedly: the line about “the stuff that dreams are made of” at the end of the movie – Shakespeare’s line is “are made on”, actually. Also, the actual fine thing said in the movie is “Huh?” – by the guy Spade is talking to, who’s no scholar of English literature.)
And...800 number given at the end to order a catalog of audio books. With more cash, I’d be buying a whole lot of those, for sure, plus much more music. DVDs and other visual material, not so much.
And...when making that 800 number, got an option to make my request an “urgent message”. No, not so...
And then, sleep, then morning, today. Took a shit – liked the cayenne tinge
to it. Imagined a Saturday Night Live skit: guy – no make it a woman – is in
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a paint store, looking at the chips for the various colors:
She: Oh-my-God! I just LOVE this color.
Clerk: Oh, yes, it’s Crappy Cayenne, one of our most popular.
And so on...and...while showering, cleaned off a Tinkerbelle rubber door mat I found on the street and liked – brought along a toothbrush I use to clean scum off around my room’s sink, and got to scrubbing the Disney character clean. I think Tinkerbelle’s a gay icon, right? Would leave it in front of my door, in the hallway, but for sure it’d be ripped off. Such is the nature of some folks in the place. But my room’s a warm and spiritual sanctuary, for myself and for anyone who visits.
And...taking that shower...flashed back to an Annette Haven shower scene I saw years and years ago. Wouldn’t mind seeing all her movies – available on DVD, very likely.
And...my “Wild Words from Wild Women” desk calendar quote from today, Jennifer Love Hewitt talking about her breasts, them having a career of their own. And: “Theirs is going better.” (Very much liked that line, maybe the best so far. She seems like a fun person, and nice. And her fuckin’ knockers ain’t to shitty, either, Christ. The calendar typified her as a “perky performer”.)
And...there’s a woman being friendly to me lately, giving me gifts, but I’m just not feeling the sexual excitation I want. I’d glad to be her friend, but that’s about it.
And...my little bowl I use for incense in my room. Emptied out the soil I use in it to keep the sticks upright and fluffed it up a bit.
And...this morning, poured tea from my ceramic pot into my stainless steel bowl, heated it, had incense lit. A bit after eight...had two hours until I could get to a library computer.
And...first song of the day, Eagles, “Victim of Love”. But I must say that
currently, “After the Thrill is Gone” is the one of theirs most meaningful to
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And...phrase recently, about me: “Hopeful about humping.”
And...figure I could stand losing about five pounds, from certain areas of my body. Get leaner, more streamlined.
And...my eyes, need to take care of them more. Strained sometimes...the vision thing...the writerliness, the inwardness, and the outwardly, wordly seeing. Balance needed.
And a line for some character: “Why are they taking such pride in it? I’m not sure about the basis of their self-respect.”
And...shaved a few very small hairs in between my eyebrows. Nothing very noticeable, but was grasping for something to do besides lie back in bed and listen to music, or absorb myself in some reverie. Made me think of Elizabeth Hurley in Passenger 57, one of her first movies, if not the first. Very different look to her than subsequently – she really toned down her eyebrows, for one thing.
And...considering the two recent Boogie Nights references in Sasha Grey’s blog at her MySpace – including one to Jack Horner, the Burt Reynold’s Daddy character. And listened this morning to “Sister Christian” on a tape – used on that movie’s very, very good soundtrack. And...titles: Boogie Days, and Night of the Living Boogie.
And...Sasha Grey’s agent, Mark Spiegler. Read in the Los Angeles magazine article about her that he likes, when by himself, driving around, to listen to Steely Dan. And I was wondering just what might be his favorite song? Hopefully not “Babylon Sisters”, which would be too obvious. (But appropriate to him – he’s apparently in his vehicle a lot, driving around his two dozen lady clients, Bluetooth in ear – so that “Drive west on Sunset...” line at the very beginning of the tune would fit...)
And...well, another evening by myself...Saturday Night Live tonight –
missed it last week – worth tuning in. I’m paying twenty a month for cable,
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and I guess even if it’s the only thing I watch, it’s worth five bucks.
And title for some other porn thing or something: Cocky. A variation on Rocky, with sex, plus with a female lead. And...want to do some Dogpiling on Hunter Thompson, his stint as night manager at the Mitchell Brothers theater. And...enjoying much live Doobie Brothers on tape – really good versions of the album tracks that I’ve heard so much of.
And...to the library, did a blog posting. Plus checked out two new audio books: Something Wicked This Way Comes, and Lolita. And...got to thinking for some reason of “I Think I Love You”, the David Cassidy song – wouldn’t mind hearing that again. And...making this quick – just a few minutes left, and want to get to all my notes...loving the rich, rich language of Nabokov. And...should see what the library has in terms of J.G. Ballard audio books – took out his Cocaine Nights some while back.
And...would use for a character a corny joke about a book title: Lion Training Made Easy, by Claude Bawlz. And...Jeremy Irons is reading Lolita – a very seductive, deep voice, perfectly-pitched. And...Love Life, title of something – not just a chapter title, a novel.
And Marat reference by Nabokov I picked up on – that portrait of him after being stabbed in a bathtub...and...got a good new idea about exercising with the bike tube I’m using: use a broomstick as a barbell handle. And...liked the reference in the Nabokov to an 1887 edition of a Dickens books. And...well – got through one disc of Lolita and really had to get out of Humbert Humbert’s intense obsessive world, so went on to Something Wicked, the Ray Bradbury novel. (His short story A Sound of Thunder is included also.) And...back cover blurb says the novel is a “modern Gothic masterpiece”. And: line for some character, a male: “I’m seeking a new partner. Sonya’s okay, but she’s looking elsewhere also. She’s free to go if she gets another guy.” (“Sonya”, name from a 1988 Chic magazine pictorial of a woman – no guy in it – found that recently. And...well, spent “quality time” with that pictorial – got a call on my cell about then – didn’t answer – silenced it...and...another topic of research: the Doc Savage pulp novels, authored by Kenneth Robeson, I believe. And...that is really about it – hurried at the end, but at least I’m caught up on these notes...
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Title change: this is now Laid Back, not House of Whores. Still has a sexual aspect in there, but it’s more discreet. And…the characters I am considering are not whores – that is, not prostituting themselves in the manner of hookers, call girls, whatever.
So…back to yesterday with my notes. Me alone in my hotel room bed, 5am-ish – bothersome noise from outside – someone going through dumpster, stuff tossed out from the room of someone who was evicted. That would’ve been okay with me, but the person was tossing things onto the street, and making a noise. So called down to J.J. at the front desk, and the disturbing sound was soon history.
And…the previous night, Thursday, Odd Fellows meeting I attended. Noted that I didn’t have a beer, tho’ plenty were free for the taking in the fridge. Plus Brother Lucky had donated a coupla dozen cans from an event he had. Yesterday had a 40 of Miller High Life – half during the afternoon, half a bit later in the evening. And didn’t particularly care for the inebriation. Got it on credit at a corner market – along with two packets of Nag Champa incense. Coulda gotten two forties, but didn’t – preferred the spiritual fragrance.
And…neighbor S. tried to fix the DVD player I’d bought for 15 from a guy in the hotel – thought he could make it work, but the thing was inoperative. And as of now, the guy still hasn’t paid me back, the fuck. Well…he’s always hustling. I guess I can be satisfied with 15 bucks worth of merchandise from him – canned foods. And maybe some music, too.
And: S. told me that even new DVD players are just 30 bucks, and that Goodwill has ‘em for ten. Might look into this. Am so de-emphasizing moving pictures now, tho’ that hasn’t always been the case, when I had full-on total cable, all the premium channels, a year ago. For me now, it’s mostly music, and audio books, and flat out reading books, that archaic activity.
And…after that Odd Fellows meeting, got some white rice and broccoli from one of the dishes served, and also lemon slices from another – these I made into a glass of lemonade. Put in a couple of sugar cubes – am refraining from that substance, but indulged in this case. Vitamin C, from a whole fruit source.
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[LAID BACK page 2. By Eldo Rado.]
And…fifteen after 5 yesterday morning, showered. When out, there was a
sticky piece of paper on the ground, a trap, with a mouse stuck on it. Felt really sorry for the poor tiny thing and extricated it. Might’ve lost one of its little mousy toes in the process – the paper was very sticky indeed. But at least it got away, despite trauma. Plenty of frightened squeaking that touched me. It scampered off at top speed, and found a hiding place behind a small metal electrical box on the wall. All in a day’s work…
And…thought back to friend Marina – she was in my room – her boyfriend Max was out somewhere. And a mouse appeared. But she was not in the least affected. There was a young woman at one of the computer centers I go to that was totally freaked out by the sighting of one of Mickey’s cousins, tho’.
And…thought of a porn version of Poe’s “Eldorado: “…he found no spot of ground that looked like El Cuntado…”
And…name for a female character: Miss Ventura Freeway. The America song uses “highway”…I like “free” better.
And: recent meal I made, in my new lidded sauce pan – have for months been using a pan I found on the street which didn’t have a lid – that Odd Fellows rice and broccoli, plus miso paste and related garnish given me by a friend.
And, this Saturday morning – no new photo or blog at MySpace.com/sashagrey. But: current photo of her from, I’d say, the recent Las Vegas porn industry soiree she attended. Holding a book called Terryworld. Got no idea about it – Dogpiled: one of the Taschen coffee table volumes – 60 bucks – but only about 40 through Amazon.com.
Who is this guy on the cover? A porn star? Terry Richardson…on to Wikipedia: born ’65. Raised in Hollywood. Played in a high school punk rock band. Has done photos for fashion designers, including Gucci, Levi’s, and other names I don’t recognize. (I adhere to the Oscar Wilde epigram about fashion, quoted previously in this space.)
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And…more about Terry Richardson: has done photos of a whole lot of
celebrities. Let’s see, this list – any I like in the least? Not really, when it comes down to it…movie stars, rap stars…Hysteric Glamour is the name of one of his photo books.
Looking at his official site…cat with a human hand around its neck – if he’s a cat person, then that’s a very good thing. And there’s one with a woman on some race track, posed so the sun, rising or setting, is shining brightly right at her crotch – good one!
Well…can see I’ll be having this person on my mind in days to come – but on with the regular programming: more, like, about Sasha Grey. Some photos at her MySpace I haven’t seen before. One called “lullaby” is very excellent. Might have to print that out when I can afford it – to replace the one with her in the AC/DC shirt that I currently still have up. Looking like a regular young woman, trees in the back, and, again, a bright sun, but not at her genital level.
And…thinking that she might try a blonde look. But that’s hard on the hair. Her hair in general doesn’t look as thick as it could be – diet could help. She doesn’t look like she eats much. For sure she could, for my taste, whatever that’s worth, could put on a few pounds.
And…speaking of putting on a few pounds – been eating pretty good myself lately. Had a gift of containers of hummus, baba ghanouj, and tomato sauce in a jar out on the ledge of my hotel room – my refrigerator. (Could get a fridge, but they’re too noisy. I live in one room and the sound of it turning on and off would not be acceptable.)
And…name for a heroine of a novel, of Laid Back: Daisy Jane. As in the America song.
And…thanks to another friend, b., for an amount of the Vitamineral Green powder I like. Added that to that rice and broccoli dish, plus some of the garlic powder I bought, at 69 cents for an ounce.
And…eleven after six a.m. yesterday, radiator on, so I turned off my hot
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plate, which can heat my space up well enough during the hours when the radiator isn’t on and I’m up. And noted I had on “Sara Smile” by Hall and Oates around this time. Really, really love many of their songs – gotta get a disc of theirs soon. But I think I’m gonna go for a Jim Croce next. Or, alternatively, get back to the Tempest bar and restaurant at Mary and Natoma – Croce’s on the jukebox there. Will have money on the first…can see getting over there, having a pint or two, listening to music.
And…been doing a whole lot of yerba mate tea with sprinklings of cayenne. As a health regimen – cayenne said to be very good for the blood, heart, and the digestive system.
And…my bicycle, unfortunately, is still down. Looking and looking at the chain – that’s the problem. Don’t know what happened – it totally flipped around, and I can’t fix it. Won’t have the money to take it to my favored shop, Road Rage, on Folsom, until the first. Missing it for sure.
And…so…yesterday, alone in my room, around 6am…Nag Champa lit, tea brewing – got a gift of 30 bags of an herbal tea blend and am adding that to the mainstay, the loose, unsmoked yerba mate. One of the tunes playing: Gary Wright’s “Dream Weaver”.
And…considering that House of Whores idea…let’s say, 28 women in a place. But then, upon consideration, I wouldn’t have them be whores. I’d prefer exotic dancers, erotic dancers, at a place like the Mitchell Brothers theater. Near to where I live, but I’m not paying twenty to get in, geez.
And thought of a line for a character: “What kind of place is this, anyway?” and also: “I don’t take pay for this. At least not money. I’m paid in love.” Which would be the title of the first chapter: Paid in Love.
And was inspired at this time to pen a heroic couplet:
It’s classier and more mysterious,/but that is just between all you and us.
The first line from a comment made by Annette Haven about a movie she was in. So there you go for now…probably more today at another place.
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