Marco

Finally I am blogging. Well I blog on Myspace but only every several months, usually when I'm angry. It has to be angry about something petty, in my mind. I have my own private rules about many many things. Tell you what. My acquaintance Marco, who is so damn trendy that he has a three year old and wife and is living in France, suggested I start a travel blog. He is right. Marco and I never hooked up. He could see me clearly in some way, and when this poet introduced us, in a room at the Chelsea Hotel where Marco was assembling a vintage Harley piece by piece, he knew that we would somehow collude, but it was not a sexual collusion, it was a periferal thing, he was always looking for something or somebody or someplace hotter and he found it again and again I believe. I was never looking for anything, just floating along, my mind jammed with millions of tiny thoughts, but I definatly felt like lunging and clinging now and then. We kissed once when I was on stage, or rather the front part, of Lower Links Hall in Chicago running a Smut Fest. It surprised me. I was just leaving to go to the back stage that I forced them to create for me after I arrived and did a hit of Ecstasy I got from the Baron Von Blumenzack, who was foreverafter very merenary with his hits of ecstacy, I only got half of one months later and it did me no good, but that's probably for the best. Ecstacy is just good to take about 5 times in your entire life. That's because I only did it five times in my entire life, and so it must be a good methedology.