so i floated downstairs and saw that kurt was onstage singing tsar tunes for the crowd. everyone was loving it.
when he was done he sat next to me at my little table. i was sipping cuban rum. there was a nice tall glass of coke with a cherry in it that i was playing with.
boy thats fun. kurt said.
dont you get to play much in heaven?
so many good players up there, sometimes i just like to listen.
then we started talking about led zeppelin. kurt plays with bonham and hendrix all the time in elvis’s punk rock band, if you can believe it.
the king loves punk. loves it. says it’ “liberating”.
i dont know what to say to something like that so i asked him, if you could only have one cd, would it be zeppelin one or zeppelin two?
well i like the long, drawn out zep the best. and even though i wouldn’t like to turn my back on “whole lotta love,” i’d have to pick zep one. youve got “dazed and confused” with that creeping, gnarly, ominious bass line. you got “babe, im gonna leave you” where robert plant really gets off. and then you’ve got my favorite zep tune of all “your time is gonna come.” it’s like an anthem hiding in a whisper.
and with that we clicked glasses and each took an end from the giant hookah and inhaled
held it
held it
fuckyoukurtcobainyouwillbeatmyassateverythingbutnotthis
gnck
aaaaaaaaaaah and then exhaled.
coughed out a bunch of smoke and then laughed and laughed and cleared out the lungs with some guinness.
followed by a jello shot.
followed by a rum shot.
washed down with a nice pull from the cherry coke.
i really do love your blog. you do things that no one else does.
ah, kurt youre way too kind.
do any of the letters you get… are any of them real?
actually, yes, some are real. lots are real, actually. just the other day i got an email from a very sweet girl who gave me her picture once and then never again. i dont know why. i told her to send more so she should have understood that that meant that i wanted to see more of her. we even set up a night to meet at the Rustic, but she never showed. anyhow the day before i was killed she sent me this great story. a Christmas miracle, really. if they had the internet here i would show it to you.
kurt pointed to the table and there appeared inside the table, sunken like inside in another dimension a laptop computer, i put my hands inside the table and brought it out.
i stopped the waitress with the jello shots and took two more, handed one to kurt and logged into my hotmail.
ah yes, here it is, my man.
dear tony,
boy have i got a story for you,
you’ll never believe this one…
sunday night, my roommate and i had all of our girlfriends over for a holiday party/gift exchange. my girlfriend roxie was smoking on the balcony, and started shouting for me to come and look at something… so i go out on the balcony, and she says, “isn’t that your truck?”… (by the way, my truck was stolen 3 weeks ago). so anyway, i’m looking at it, but this truck had one of those tool shed thingys on the back of it. but i decided to run downstairs anyway. when i got downstairs, the truck seemed to have stalled or something… so i calmly walked over to the truck, snuck a peek at the license plate, and almost fainted… it was my truck! a weird rush of insanity came over me… and i walked right up to the driver side window. the guy rolled down the window, and i calmly said… “i just want to let you know i already called the cops… this is my truck, it was stolen 3 weeks ago.” there were 2! guys, and a girl… they all looked at each other, then at me… like i was crazy, and they had no idea what i was talking about. so, i then said, ” look, i don’t have time for this shit, it was stolen from merle’s auto shop 3 weeks ago. get the fuck out of my truck.” simultainesly, the 3 perps jump out of my truck and start running down the street. i couldn’t believe it. the next thing you know, i’m sitting in my recovered truck, not knowing how to turn it off, cause it was hotwired. by this time, there are about 10 drunk girls on the corner yelling and screaming… cause i got my truck back, and no one could believe how freaking weird it was. all of the sudden, my friend katy yells, “oh shit, thats them in that white truck over there!” so, seeing as we were all drunk at this point, (about 11:00pm), we all had a serious dose of liquid courage… Then i hear my roommate yell, “get the license plate number!”. We all l! ooked at eachother, and the next thing you know… there go 10 girls, in heels, chasing a car down the street. needless to say, the perps weren’t very happy about that, so they started throwing stuff at us. my friend brandy got hit with a bottle. anyway, we successfully got the plate #. and i got my truck back, along with a tool shed thingy full of tools, a drill press, with the bit, two spare tires, and a new sound system that they had installed in my truck. oh, it gets better… the idiot left his day planner in the truck… so when the cops arrived, they opened it…and what was on the first page? IF LOST PLEASE RETURN TO… thats right, total fucking idiot. so, right now, my truck is at the police impound yard, being dusted for finger prints. Can you believe that shit? to tell you the truth, i’m stoked i got my truck back and all, but… that shit freaked me out. how is my stolen truck gonna stall out, righ! t in front of my own house? bizarre.
kurt asked, was that from ashley?
i said, nah, ashley drives a cute little car, not a truck.
ashley is hot.
all the girls in cali are hot, buddy.
and we clinked our glasses again and before we could slam our glasses down a man in an apron held out the big triangle and struck it with a drumstick and said, “soup’s on mothafuckas!”
and everyone kicked over their chairs and ran to the buffet room.
moxie + zulieka + rabbit
that im the biggest nerd, cuz i am.
so i floated downstairs and saw that kurt was onstage singing tsar tunes for the crowd. everyone was loving it.
ah yes, here it is, my man.