#1993 #AmericanWriters #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
“...I’ve seen people in front of their typewriters in such a bind that it would blow their intestine… right out of their assholes if the… were trying to shit.”
I blacked out after that. I guess I had consumed more whiskey than I thought. I don’t remember arriving at Nicole’s. I awakened in the morning with my back to somebody in a strange bed....
we talk about this film: Cagney fed this broad grapefruit faster than she could eat it and
the droll noon where squadrons of worms creep up like stripteasers to be raped by blackbirds. I go outside
what is it about lobsters and crab… those white-pink shells that always make me hungry just looking at them there in the butcher’s display case
I don’t know how it happens to people. I had child support, need for something to drink, rent, shoes, shirts, socks, all that stuff. Like everyone else I needed an old car, something to...
having the low down blues and goin… into a restraunt to eat. you sit at a table. the waitress smiles at you. she’s dumpy. her ass is too big.
After dinner or lunch or whatever it was—with my crazy 12 hour night I was no longer sure what was what—I said, "Look, baby, I’m sorry, but don’t you realize that this job is driving me...
It was Christmas season and I learned from the drunk up the hill, who did the trick every Christmas, that they would hire damned near anybody, and so I went and the next thing I knew I ...
one of Lorca’s best lines is, “agony, always agony ...” think of this when you
The next morning Tammie found a prescription in her purse. “I’ve got to get this filled,” she said. “Look at it.” It was wrinkled and the ink had run. “Well, he tried to get this prescr...
her shoes themselves would light my room like many candles. she walks like all things shining on glass,
Then Joyce wanted to go back to the city. For all the draw– backs, that little town, haircuts or not, beat city life. It was quiet. We had our own house. Joyce fed me well.) Plenty of m...
she was sitting in the window of room 1010 at the Chelsea in New York, Janis Joplin’s old room. it was 104 degrees
first they used to, he told me, gun and bomb the elephants, you could hear their screams over… but you flew high to bomb the peop… you never saw it,