|I spent most of the day not moving
much, lying on the futon in
john's unit, reading
THE RIGHT STUFF, slugging off
plastic gallon water jug. when he came home from work watering plants around
1 pm i opened the door naked just to show what kind of a slothy day i was
enjoying, and he climbed into his sheeted-off loft for a nap. still light
out so late in spring, we made the most of the evening, all access passes
to NYU class of double-aught-something Irving Plaza private concert:
and BUILT TO SPILL (in order of appearance).
A couple of bandroom beers later we were back nextdoor at dark candlelit
bar from whence Myers and I laughed our
way with Euvin to a beauty salon cum
bar where I bought a drink for toothless Gypsy just before they threw
< < John [par]King
- this shot was NOT set up!.
|^ Light shines
through the sweat dripping off Doug Martsch's nose.
Gypsy shouts hoarsely,
Euvin fuckin' rocks! ^