Francis Picabia approached me in the summer of 1932 to commission a series of homoerotic comics based on his always-intruding fantasies of Egon Schiele. He never published them, but he didn’t order them destroyed after his death. I think that takes balls.
I spent the summer of ‘67 obsessing over Esther Friesner. Her father wanted her to get into the semiconductor business. One critic would go so far as to posit that the second book in her Demon series [Hooray For Hellywood] was inspired by her father’s admiration of the semiconductor industry. I found the whole situation rather pornographic.
I was Leonard Cohen’s ghost writer for all of his albums prior to 2006.
Because her fins are yellow, and and she’s traveled the Red Sea.
People, I think, get a certain impression about Roseanne from how we interact on the show. You know? I haven’t decided if I like that or not. I mean, I received a fan letter from a childhood friend of hers saying that she used to get high with Kim Peek in middle school just to calm his mind. Can you believe that? I think there is a certain kindness coming out of Salt Lake City that we are just now starting to see on television.
So I’ve got Creatures II: Torture Trouble loaded up on my Commodore, and Drifty comes up on my lap purring all crazy-like. I finally beat the bird boss guy, look down, and Drifty’s dead. Yeah. I just can’t do this anymore.
Gastric Cancer, Evelyn, is much like my time with Croydon. We only mentioned the war in the showers, completely unrelated to how many goals were had by the boys. Something about the moisture on what was left of our bodies. Let’s have a shower, Evelyn. The blood is crusting, and I cannot scratch through the tweed.
beelzebunny