down the road from this playground is a health restaurant called hugos. david bowie used to eat there during his skinny young american/man who fell to earth year. at this popsicle stand i order their super green juice…then the super green soup….then finally the super green salad…this is all i eat for my five days there,and when i go to the toilet, it comes out day-glo green…now dear reader..isn’t that amazing?
henry rollins was right behind me on the flight over…he’s grey haired and older now…little reading spectacles..but he has a very unpretentious formidable air about him,and doesn’t travel in upper class.i like henry a lot…his path is unique,for he is his own living work of art..in my hotel the next morning, i observe the porn star ron jeremy dinking around forever on his iPhone,in-between flipping through the pages of the national inquirer…i wonder if it’s hard being ron jeremy…he’s not a pretty man…awful combover hair…a big pudgy nose…….but he does have that huge record breaking fat cock,and it’s made him a lot of money….dear reader….have you ever seen a photo of it?…it’s a real fanny hammer! i wish i was his stylist…i’d cut off all his frizzy hair,and dress him up in some sort of uniform…but maybe that misses the point,cause like henry rollins,he too is his own unique living work of art.
i couldn’t get a flight out to the desert,so i had a driver called ‘steve’ sail me out there in his big old batmobile…it must have once been such a fine car,but now the black paint work was all weird and faded from the california sun…still… it was big with plenty of legroom,also steve had sweetly supplied catering for the three hour ride by way of a bunch of almost rancid bananas and warm bottled water….steve is dangerously fat and has a hair piece,and i look forward to him sweeping me back down to lost angeles in his worn out chauffeur suit for the ride home.
yesterday was sunday,so naturally i went to the homosexual beer bust,only it turned out not to be terribly homosexual at all…there i was just sitting there filling my face with a hotdog and margarita, when this big hairy biker comes in wearing lace stockings,a little lace miniskirt, rounded off with nice ladies high heel shoes….he had his wife with him,and from the waist up,he looked like he stepped right out of easy rider,but from the waist down,it was a whole other story. he lurched around the bar in his lace stockings with all the glide of a gorilla…naturally i wanted to be his friend,but already i’ve forgotten his name….he and his wife tell me they’d re-married each other three times…he’d spent three years in jail for being bad,but the thing that had me in rapture was their sex life….he likes to watch his wife getting pounded by big black men,and then for that same [obviously fit] black man to roger him up his hairy bunghole also.
i feast on stories like that,but i can’t help wondering about the political dynamic to this sort of sexual fantasy…on a tight arsed level, it’s a bit condescending towards the black man…the objectification of black skin n’all..and i actually talked once to a gay whitey who had a black boyfriend, and he told me stories of men who would re-enact a slavery auction .. out in the open..in the roaring sunshine. black skin carries a very strong emotional surge..it’s inevitable that it would become the stuff of fetish and fantasy…slavery…suffering…the undeniable strength and talent of the black man….and it’s interesting that some black men would happily play into these benign fantasies…and they are benign..those sort of evenings generally end with a warm shower,a mug of hot cocoa,and with everyone going home to their respective lives.
i once had a fling in the desert with a man who wanted me to be his dog!..he made me wear a muzzle and everything…he wanted to stick a rubber doggy tail up my krunker,but that’s not for me really …it lasted over a short series of saturdays and sundays…i decided the role didn’t suit me…i don’t take orders easily,and felt a little bit out of my depth….but i’m glad i played …naturally i got a song out of it,which could easily be about the danger of controlling relationships.
dear reader…do you worry for me?……if so, just check out my lovely haircut in the deliberately upside-down photo below…the clean blunt precision of that thick unbalding fringe hints at some sort of order to the chaos.