all the girlies want to be with him. not only is he handsome, but he plays that guitar so well, and he has those big arms, and dresses so great, and talks so cool.
but the one thing that he has brought to us is the afro wig.
so kind of him.
when my fro finally goes, just watch me bust with the kravitz wig and stand back cuz the ladies will bum rush and make a terrible scene.
i sorta wish old lenny was here right now, i would ask him not about fashion or wigs or guitar playing, but women.
i would ask him how could it be that one day you could make sweet love to a girl so intense and spectacular that the neighbors could very easily think that the girl is being murdered, and then the next day she gets on her computer and writes about some other guy, and then the day after that she writes about that other guy again, and not about you.
i would ask him if he thought that it meant what you thought it meant, that she should just spend the next little while with who she is obviously pre-occupied with.
i would ask him if he thought it might just be better if she fucked off.
i wonder how many times lenny could be dissed in such a way until he just stopped returning the girl’s calls, changed the locks, and got on with living the life that he should be pursing: chasing girls who liked him the best.
im sure he would tell me that it doesn’t matter how good you took care of a girl, or what you did to her physically, repeatedly, magically, or what sorts of things you bought her, or made for her, or even the things that you didn’t do so that she would feel better about herself, that some girls are just completely clueless and need a gigantic smack across the face (figuratively, psychos) and maybe a year of complete silence.
or maybe ten years.
i bet lenny would write a bad song about it and sell it to a car company and then go have a drink with slash at the rainbow and play ms. pacman.