16 January 2018

man . . . . . . i gotta hurry up and get dirty again. i’m dirty, but i’m not dirty enough just yet. when i was LA, all spooked up and strange, i thought: “yeah baby. this is the version of myself i like most.” (spoilers: i hate all other versions of myself (lol))

i mean: i ended up in a huge korean karaoke bar with ten friendly strangers who came over, one by one, and introduced themselves and talked to me, and hugged me, and so on. people were dancing around and screaming and bless their hearts. we all piled into my rental car and went to someone’s house, god only knows who, and kept on hanging out until it was way late. next day i went to a clown-themed strip club on sunset with sarah pardini, and she gave me $20 in singles, and we sat right at the front . . . she called it “the rack” . . . and man we were laughing like hell. it was so dumb and weird. i loved the hell out of it. all weekend i was waking up on floors and couches! eating and drinking with strangers! confiding and being confided to! driving real fast, and being alone in parks and in diners, and so on. . . .

i wrote some terrible trash and a few letters too! in the very same silver lake coffee shop where i had brushed my teeth and washed my hair in the bathroom sink just before heading off to the LA convention center to cover an expo i never actually got into. man! i guess that’s my LA headquarters. i guess that is where i set off from to debase myself beneath that merciless sun!

starsailor! you’re alive! god bless you, mr. starsailor. we all thought the experiment had failed. well, maybe that comes later. but the thing lives on for now at least. . . .

now get to work!!!