10.28.2002

Hey Fitz, I thought that one of the rules "our faithful leader" put forward about this blog was that we shouldn't refer to conversations that take place outside the posts unless they are accompanied by sufficient explanation. You took the comments I made last night at Ari's totally out of context. I was with that Japanese girl by the window, pointing out TRUE's tag on the watertower. The smiley face sperm is fading a little, but it still looks good. I remember when she climbed that metal ladder, drunk and talking about how she did pull-ups everyday to make sure she had the upper body strength for stunts like this. I don't know what I was more scared of--the empty jug of Carlo Rossi or those beat-up Converse All-Stars she was wearing. The soles were worn thin and smooth as a waxed floor.

I was feeding the Japanese girl dates and blowing in her ear at the same time. She sucked each of the wrinkled brown fruits into her mouth and with barely any movement spit out a perfectly clean seed into my waiting palm. I told her how we were a crew once, making renegade art and movies. TRUEBOY was, and for all intents and purposes, still is our leader. Only she's fucked up--yes, I did say that, because it's true! I don't mess around with the kind of shit she messes with. I quit drinking--and no, I wasn't high last night. What the fuck, I'm tired--you know I've been working my ass off with Young and Hungry--putting down some tracks for the album. The debut album by Sterling Fassbinder, "Liebling Farbe", which means, "Favorite color." I can already imagine the cover art--a pink ballerina, bending forward in a curtsy.

The latest track is a cover of "Cactus" by The Pixies. The vocals, however, owe more to David Bowie's recent cover of the same song (on Heathen). So it's an hommage to an hommage. But there's nothing Postie-Toastie about it. Not with the way I sing the lyrics, "Sitting here waiting on a cement floor, wishing that I had just something you wore." Man, it's hot. It's celebrating my lust for women, but I have to admit that half the motor behind the horniness is my persistent, raging hard-on for my boss, M. It faded out for a little while but it's back again. That's another story, though.

I'm not "grandstanding." I don't think TRUE's pathetic, but sometimes I do feel badly for her, as I'm sure she might have felt for me at some point. I wasn't putting her down to the girl. OK, maybe I was a little disparaging--but do you think I'm happy that she left? Don't you think I miss her too--especially when the only communication we have from her hardly mentions us at all.

Will--whatever, he's just her latest distraction...

But I'll tell you one thing, Fitz. Don't front with talking about my missing fingers, and the way I do or do not choose to mention it. For all you know I'm not really that reformed. That's why I have to try so hard to be good. From a the therepeutic standpoint that you so love to take, I think it's pretty clear that I don't have the insatiable need to cut out of my system. Who knows, maybe your itsy-bitsy...pinky...will be next.

--SF

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