The Box Monster
There’s several milestones in your kid’s life that you look forward to, some happily, some with dread. This morning, Isaac hit one of the those. Last night, he discovered the box our latest shipment of Green Mountain Coffee came in (Fair Trade, ahem…) and started playing with it, standing in it, putting his toys in
Hey Mr. Ashcroft!
It’s a truly fucked-up world we’re living in! Watch what you read?!?! Reading the wrong thing in public can get you in trouble. I’ve printed the offending article out and am going to read it outside at lunch. Come get me, Mr. Ashcroft!
Remember the Open Room?
Been sent some interesting names for the show so far, with early favorites Performance Anxiety, Breaking Form and Word of Mouth. Send more. Haven’t heard back from Jackie Sheeler yet about the length of tomorrow’s feature so I’m getting a little antsy about my set. There’s a big difference between 20, 30 and 45-minute sets.
What’s in a name?
It’s raining again here in NYC. Serious, thunder and lightning, shake the building kind of rain. Got my ass soaked heading up to the Bowery earlier. Everything but my crotch and my hair got wet! Two hours later and I’m still not completely dry. Anyway, I have a favor to ask all you random people
RIP: Celia Cruz
Salomé on Celia Cruz: I just got back from the funeral procession for Celia Cruz. They left the funeral home on 82nd street at 12:30pm and I figured I could wait a little while (since I’m on 55th street) before heading to Fifth Avenue to see her be carried to the mass at St. Patrick’s
Buckshot
1) I’m so over Angelina Jolie. Caught pieces of her interview last week and couldn’t help but be irritated. Salomé nailed it: “She’s a spoiled, overprivileged brat that craves attention.” Or something to that effect. Seriously, though, she’s got big boobs and lips (but no hips or ass at all!) and has done a couple
A poem for Mr. Wayne
This might end up over on Gotham City News once I figure out what exactly I want to do with it. The blog, I mean. Wrote it today at lunch, sitting in Battery Park, having completely forgotten I was supposed to be at the the dentist! Gotham City Suite Untitled, #1 somewhere in the city
Hanging With The Anti-Clique
Work Is Love Haiku Four foot eleven I love her like few others Ishle is the bomb! Ishle’s CD release party for Work Is Love was a lot of fun. It was the first time I’d hosted something at the Bowery Poetry Club and a nice turnout (Ishle’s always had a strong following, though the
Happy Anniversary to us!
Yesterday was our 5th Anniversary! There was a point last year when that seemed like a milestone we might not reach. Weird thing about stress, when there’s no specific source that you can address directly, it can turn inward and devour you. If 2002 went in the books as a down year in the marriage
Wednesday is new comic book day!
So I’ve gotten into yet another flame war with Danny Solis on the poetry_slam list. Why can’t I just leave that shit alone? The whole PSI thing, I mean. Solis is this big-ass, dreadlocked Mexican poet, currently out of Albuquerque, NM. If you saw SlamNation, he’s on the Austin team, in that fun little group