You are seemingly sorry, for what? For me?
Don't be. Like Al Pacino, I'm alive in Sneden's
Landing, living with a famous girl. We drink
vain Margarita's on the deck - seeing the
My latest thing, a Range Rover Sport Deluxe,
sits sideways on the padded carport. I parked it
there myself - for Robert to take care of, change
the fluids, gloss the coat, just make it sure.
I'm due in Vermont on Tuesday morn.
After that, there is no more. I've got - not
yet - no schedule posted. perhaps I'll do a
local talk show, one of those with a caravan
of clowns who are always laughing and making
light of ills. Bob Hope, like that, stupid stuff,
and I quote : "I just heard the Statue of Liberty
has AIDS, but she doesn't know if she got it from
the mouth of the Hudson or the Staten Island Fairy.'
Stupid shit he was, I hated that guy. And people applauded
his ring-necked pomposity - even went to Vietnam and
played his coastal snuff before the insane, breaking
soldiers - no brooding, just being an ass. Sex jokes
and innuendos on the eve of everyone's death - out
there, the soldier crowd, probably in a ratio of
four to one, survival. Anne Margret's breasts too.
Amazing the things we put up with, truly.