Mark Allen's Top Ten for 9/30/02:

1: The "I Am Satan Incarnate" T-shirt guy in my senior World History II class in college
    This is not a story about someone I know well, and the picture above is one put together from stuff I found on the web.
    This is a story about someone I simply observed for a period of time and never forgot.  I have no idea what this person's name is or where he is today. The story doesn't have any moral or lesson... and there are no ironic twists or tearful, life affirming conclusions.
    It's just a fucking story.
    It's the story of The I Am Satan Incarnate T-shirt Guy.
    It was my second semester, senior year at University of North Texas. Like a lot of seniors, I had let a few required courses slip by and was now having to begrudgingly cram them into my senior year. It was my World History II class that I showed up for three times a week... trying to act interested but generally bored out of my mind (I was really trying to graduate and get the fuck to NYC).
    The "I Am Satan Incarnate" t-shirt guy was the only one who saved me. This kid... who I think was a freshman ...was really a glutton for punishment or just starved for attention or just really, really brilliant with an overdeveloped sense for the absurd. Come to think of it I think that this kid may have been one of those high school students who was bumped ahead to college because he was so bright. But he held the characteristics of being too bright. Too bright to be normal in any way. What was he doing in my college class? Where did he come from? Why did he wear an "I Am Satan Incarnate" t-shirt every single day? A home made one? Why was he always laughing? What was his story? Where is he now? If I had to guess I'd say he's probably in some Bill Gates-type situation. Or maybe he ended up like the child game show prodigy kid all grown up in the movie "Magnolia".
    Now of course I don't have a photo of this kid... so I just recreated the shirt and found a guy's picture on the internet who looked like him to try and give you an idea (above). Let me see if I can describe this fear-less solo warrior to you;

    1. Greasy golden brown hair that had about three cowlicks and seemed simultaneously unkempt and combed at the same time. With a horrible cut that seemed to be just kind of chopped off in certain areas once it reached a certain point, with absolute zero regard for "style".

    2. Maroon colored Member's Only jacket worn every day (even in the heat). I'm sure he had been wearing it every day since high school. Keep in mind this was in 1990 and was waaaaaaaay long before it was "cool" to wear them again.

    3. Giant tortoise shell framed glasses - like your mom might have worn.

    4. Gangly arms. Gangly everything... walked VERY fast everywhere. Sometimes talked to himself while walking... always smiling and sometimes raising one arm up with a pointed finger as if to say "Eureka!" ...maybe he was solving complex physics problems out loud while walking. Doing this while he walked alone was probably much more interesting to him than social conversation.

    5. All-wrong jeans. You know what I mean... tight and loose in all the wrong places... highwater.

    6. Carried his stack of huge textbooks right by his hip... so he walked slanted and like a girl.

    7. A giant watch.

    8. A huge backpack - like camping size. This is in addition to the huge stack of books always held tight to one hip by his right gangly arm.

    9. A perpetual look of superior satisfaction on his face... always smiling... always looking like he was on the verge of cracking up.

    10. A black T-shirt with custom made iron-on red letters (the kind you can get custom made at a sports uniform store to say anything you want, or buy the letters and put them on yourself) that spelled out the words "I AM SATAN INCARNATE".
    Now before you say "Yawn..." or "Who cares" let me explain the context. The University of North Texas is a big art and music school... what I was there for. But is also a big business school. The required classes, like World History, were full of business students... and generally what you would consider "normal" people. This being the south too... there were A LOT of Christians. Devout, polite ones. plus this was 1990 numerically... but, knowing parts of Texas for what they really are - in a lot of ways, this might has well have been the 1950's.
    If this had been high school he would have been teased relentlessly. But this wasn't high school.. it was college... there were 40 year old students in our class. So in place of teasing was calm, mature, rational discussion... which of course messed with everything ten times as hard. He wore the shirt EVERY day and had quite a few discussions with people with strained looks on their faces as they t-r-i-e-e-e-d to politely understand his philosophy and t-r-i-e-e-e-d to explain how Jesus died on the cross to save mankind from his sins. Have you ever seen a bubbly, Christian sorority girl with poofed-out bleached hair and lots of make up try to have a rational conversation with a gangly, smart ass kid wearing an "I AM SATAN INCARNATE" t-shirt  and try to maintain her polite and optimistic, smiling persona during the whole conversation and walk away from the discussion feeling that she may have touched this kid's mind a little bit... only to be greeted the following day in the class with the kid defiantly wearing the SAME t-shirt AGAIN... then again and again and again and again? Every day? And smile proudly while he does it? I have seen it. It's ugly.
    By mid semester the blond girl wasn't as cheer-y and her fraternity guy friends... well they just didn't get involved in the first place. Her demeanor went from bubbly to flat in a matter of weeks because of The I Am Satan Incarnate T-shirt Guy. She would get this stone cold look on her face every time The I Am Satan Incarnate T-shirt Guy  would walk into the class wearing THAT shirt and quietly sit behind her. She would pretend to ignore him but it was obvious she couldn't.  I think she finally drew the conclusion that to extend energy in any way towards The I Am Satan Incarnate T-shirt Guy would only encourage him and give him more power (and also help Satan conquer the world). So it was probably best to not play with fire and just ignore him. This is kind of hard when he sits right behind you and you are the one who called him on his behavior in the first place and he STILL does what you asked him not to do every day every day every day every day RIGHT behind you. I think he kind of broke her (and others) in a way.
    One day before class I saw the professor go over to The I Am Satan Incarnate T-shirt Guy and talk with him about something. What it was they talked about I don't know. But if it was something about him please not wearing the shirt to class anymore because it was distracting to the learning process it must not have convinced him... because he kept wearing the shirt.
    Maybe he lost a bet or dare with some of his computer club pals. Like they were all sitting around drinking Yoo-Hoo and one of them was like "Hey... the last person to calculate the square root of a million in has to wear an 'I AM SATAN INCARNATE' on campus every day for a whole semester" contest or something and they were all like "Fuck yea bring it ON baby!" And he lost.
    What was so interesting is that I was too far away from where this kid sat to ever hear any of the conversations or exchanges or comments he ignited. I was too caught up in hating having-to-be in the class and wanting to just graduate to care. I just filled in all the dialogue as best I could from afar. We all have things we regret in life. If I had to list ten things in my life that I regret... not ever striking up a conversation with The I Am Satan Incarnate T-shirt Guy would be on that list. Now I wish I had stopped to smell the roses. I never met The I Am Satan Incarnate T-shirt Guy, I never even spoke to him... but looking back I wish I had. He's a friend I wish I had gotten to know. I often wonder what happened to the The I Am Satan Incarnate T-shirt Guy.
    Where ARE you The I Am Satan Incarnate T-shirt Guy? Whatever happened to you!? You were amazing.

2: "Muki's Kitchen" website (thanks Gregory!)
    Click here for Muki' I love freaky, twisted "sex" web sites created by prolific basement weirdoes that my friends email me day after day, week after week... Hey, if American's can't email each other weird sex sites from the internet all day everyday while bored at their comfy jobs, then the terrorists will win people! Which MEANS that emailing these twisted websites to each other is as American as apple pie! Of course these sites usually revolve around some ...odd... bar of the sexuality spectrum that has been hidden under a rock all this time (until the invent of the internet). Hey I'm not talking no porn crap here - obvious shit like girls with dogs or poop or whatever. I'm talking REALLY funny sex sites that BOTHER you subconsciously... maybe, a little bit. You want to laugh or get real scared or just click "exit" and you usually just end up perusing the whole thing in disbelief... with a slight headache. These parody-proof sites seem truly surreal... rather than "hot" or sexy or "funny" or even gross.
    This one, "Muki's Kitchen", is like a weird triple mixture of the Marquis de Sade, Martha Stewart and Paul Bartell's "Eating Raoul". So even though this one is pretty explicit... in the hall of fame of freaky/weird/scary/funny/surreal sex websites (that is currently occupied by, and The "Mr. Blow Up" Inflatable Galleries, and goes Muki' out some of their links too - no not sausage links silly... internet links! Haha-hee-hee-ho-ho!) If you're reading this at work where people can see your monitor DO NOT OPEN.

3:  Domenic came by
    Domenic dropped by to do a voice over for this... uh, thing I'm working on. It was really nice to see him again. He is one of the most interesting people I have ever met... he should write a book about his life... or a pamphlet or brochure or something.

4: The Smiths album covers
    Were you a teenager in the 80's? Did you hang out in gay indie record stores?
    My huge record collection was hidden in the closet while Domenic lived with me... but before Guillaume moved in I moved my old turntable and entire vinyl collection out into the living room. It's fun to go through all my old records again when I have time... rediscovering everything from whatever time period in my life I bought the albums.
    I won't bore you or alienate you with the old "album covers were so much better than CD covers because they were big and the art on them made a real difference blah blah blah" argument. But I WILL say that I discovered that waaaaaay back in the 80's I think I probably bought EVERY 12" single and album that The Smiths ever put out. This is an interesting discovery for me... I mean, I honestly don't remember even liking the band THAT much. I think I was attracted to the design of the covers. Do you remember them? They were incredible! The actual design on some of them was kind of clunky... but what they sometimes lacked in lay-out they more than made up for in consistency of vision. They looked like they were designed immediately ...and fast - but they still look strong and have a big impact. They were beautiful! I mean... just LOOK at them! You almost... and just almost can't even tell what time period they are from.
    Apparently... believe it or not... it was the lead singer Morrisey himself who conceived every cover's design and chose what obscure British soap opera actor or hard-to-pinpoint celebrity's picture to include. These covers ...lined up all side by side... should be shown to art school students as examples of good design. Why? Because taken as a whole they look incredible. And most importantly... they perfectly covey, with very simple semiotics, the mood and aesthetic of the music you will find inside the packages.

5: The phrase "Like tossing a banana down a hallway"
    I'll let you figure out in what context it came up.

6:  Jim
    Look at him! Just look at him... I mean! LOOOOOOK at him! LOOK! LOOK! LOOK! *WOW*!!!!!!! Jim had a great story from his recent mini tour about these two 50 year old women who were identical twins and were each 5 feet tall and all the Pinetops hung out with them in a basement in Virginia after a gig and the twins danced these weird jigs together and made fruit moonshine and served it in jars and someone else there's specialty was making squirrel pies... that's LITERALLY squirrel pies! Out of squirrel meat! ...that's just one night. Sometimes I want to run away with Jim forever away from everything. Jim gets it.

Jim is the only person I know to send me love emails like this one:


7: The fact that Kenny G is returning his weekly show to
    Get some bandages for your brain... first it was "Unpopular Music" then "Anal Magic" and now it's "Nothing Special". WFMU used to describe his show in their schedule as "Three hours of records skipping, CD's glitching, and people screaming" and that's only scratching the surface. The greatest force to ever truly assault a radio listening audience... landscape chef, renounced speckling expert and published staring contest cheater (and also author of one of the greatest books ever written; 'Fidget') - the bumblingly apocalyptic Kenny G ...returns from his Summer sabbatical starting October 7th with the suspensfuly-titled "Nothing Special",  Wednesday nights from 8-11PM on You know where I'll be. That's right ...naked by the radio... just like that sexy drug girl in the Pink Floyd song. Or was that the telephone?
    Speaking of sitting naked by the telephone. I wish I had a "not" Top Ten list because I would mention that it appears that one of WFMU's other unchallengable forces, Pseu Braun, is NOT returning to their Fall schedule. Pseu apparently has lots going on in her life now... and still fills in for the odd slot now and again but... *sigh*... it would be so nice to cuddle up to her hilarity once a week. Maybe in the Spring.

8: The fact that you can type "arrested" or "drug charges" or "pedophile" in the biographies search engine at
    Go to the best movie information website there is: The Internet Movie Database ( See in the left hand column where it says "Search the database for"? Click on the scroll down clickable thing (that says "All' right now) and choose "Bios". Then type in any sordid word or phrase you can think of ...say, "shot by stalker" or "addicted to pain killers" or  "arrested for having sex with a transsexual prostitute" and let the FUN begin! What's neat is that any celebrity who's bio includes the phrase "arrested for having sex with a transsexual prostitute" may be used as a description of an actual scandal involving that person or it could be used to describe a character in a film they were in or worked on - fantasy and reality become blurred. The world of celebrities in a nutshell... and why we love them.

9:  The film "Let's Scare Jessica To Death"
    Jim and I rented the 1971 John D. Hancock horror film "Let's Scare Jessica To Death" last week. He had never seen it. I had... the first time was when I was about 6 years old and it was a sunny suburban day in Plano, Texas and it just happened to be on the TV as the "Saturday Afternoon Movie" or something and maybe my mom was in another part of the house and I just sat there and watched the whole thing and practically hid under the couch because it freaked me out so bad. It still does... it's a genuine sphincter-clincher that I don't recommend watching late at night alone when you're alone and depressed. Yikes it's creepy.
    Jim and I both share a fondness for movies that portray someone's gradual descent into scary insanity. The lead actress in "Jessica" - Zohra Lampert (above) - does an amazing job of translating that state here. And this film as a whole does a bang-up job of totally creeping you the fuck out.

10: Imagining that I could create a fantastic, unbelievable machine that was a glowing, hovering ball of white light that held the answers to all the questions ever posed in the universe and sucked in all evil and spit out all that was good and solved all problems and that maybe I could make lots of them and sell this machine on my website for $1,000,000,000 each and people could pay through PayPal and I'd just ship them off and live happily forever in a truly swanky lifestyle... surrounded by beauty because I saved mankind and became rich while doing it
    Wouldn't that be great?

Top Ten for 9/23/02:

1: My crazy neighbor interrupting the Bunny Brains concert on the roof of the building next to me on Saturday night and having his whole rant processed through their vocal modulator/loop/sampler and worked into the band's set
    (scroll right to see more of picture >>>>>>>>>>)

    There is this collective of noise/trash/weirdo artists called or something like that that have events all over the USA. One of the Freenoise people is very cool and he lives in the building next to me. Sometimes... he/they have art performance shows or bands play on his roof... right next door to me and literally right outside my window. The shows, which feature many acts, run the spectrum from the pretentious - to the stupid... and occasionally to the surprisingly brilliant. They always do it on a weekend night, and they always finish up before midnight. The shows happen about once every two or three months. The volume of these shows is no louder than a car blasting music from the street... or a kid carrying a jam box blasting hip hop. Lots of people show up... it is always a good casual time, it's FREE to go... and very, very interesting performers show up and things happen. To say that the sounds being emitted from the roof during these shows is very odd and often jarring and annoying is an understatement. There is never anything obscene or curse words or anything like that... just very, very odd and often grating NOISE.
    No one ever complains... it's no louder than an outdoor restaurant on your street. The most that happens is maybe that some people that live in the 40 story project building directly across the street yell "Turn off that white shit!!!" every once in a while... or maybe yell "Boooo!" after some guy has performed with plastic hoses attached to contact microphones and yelled into a megaphone and then lit himself on fire. No one complains because on weekends my street is like a strip in Amsterdam or maybe the main strip in New Orleans or something. It adds to the color of the neighborhood and if people yell "Shut up!" it's in a festive way.
    Except for ONE man.
    Freenoise stopped having their monthly shows on the roof next door about a year ago because of ONE GUY who I think may have gone all the way to City Hall to get these events shut down or something. He lives in my building on one of the lower floors. He's middle aged and a little weird. I think his window to his apartment is facing the courtyard behind our building so the sound from the next door roof probably bounces into his window (although the same roof is literally RIGHT ACROSS from my living room window and it really isn't that loud). Apparently he is a struggling musician himself (my friend Mike used to live next door to him and would hear him trying to record his demo tapes). this guy has a very outwardly friendly and humorous demeanor - say... compared to "Mork and Mindy" era Robin Williams. He's a nice guy! Super friendly! With lots of personality! Until it comes to young white kids plugging fax machines into amplifiers and dressing up in costumes made out of barrels and screaming abstract beat poetry through screeching toy megaphones on the roof of the building next to the one he lives in.

    I have been at these Freenoise rooftop shows before where this guy would literally show up stomping onto the roof and unplug the guitar player's instruments and cause a big scene and fights would break out and then he would wait for the cops to show up (whom he had called) and then would wait outside the front entrance and mentally recorded the faces of everyone who was in attendance and yell "I will do this again next time!" He would literally show up at the climax of every show and be the grand finale of police enforced destruction.
    I have heard from friends in the neighborhood all kinds of weird stuff about this character... but it's all hearsay and he's an easy target for rumor so I'm not gonna write it here. I WILL say that this guy is very nice and cool - super friendly even. But something about trashy pretentious noise music and loud fringe theater puts this guy ON THE EDGE and into FULL RAGE MODE. In New York City! I'm gonna stay out of the free speech argument and difference in taste and blah blah blah... although I will say that it is very obvious that his anger has less to do with noise levels than with the type of noise that is being made. None of the zillions of other people in the neighborhood seem to mind it too much.
    Sometimes the cops would show up after he called them...roll their eyes.. but it was very rare that they made the performers stop (I think they once told everyone to go home because it was after midnight). I think the guy has slowly started to loose the respect of the cops though... you would think that would be a good thing but NO. Now he is a one man army with a mission. well whatever he did must have worked (or maybe the organizers just stopped having the shows there for another reason) because there hasn't been a rooftop show next to me in a whole year. UNTIL this Saturday night that is...
    So I'm on the roof next door and I'm watching Bunny Brains perform. And... just like clockwork this guy shows up at about 11:30 in full hormone maniac rage overdrive. He'd had a whole year to hibernate! He stands in front of Bunny Brains and gets on his knees and mockingly begs the lead "singer" to stop. What was so funny is that the annoyed neighbor is such a regular at these shows that when he walked up to the roof and started yelling everyone raised their beers in the air and cheered "It's the crazy neighbor!" He's a celebrity now. Then after his big entrance he gets in a big argument with the Freenoise guy which lasted through the entire second half of the Bunny Brains' non-stop set. The lead Bunny Brains guy had this amazing vocal modulator/effects thing that could sample lots of voices out of different microphones and play them all over top of each other... kind of like the one the Butthole Surfers used to use.
    So then I start snapping pictures (above) and the complaining neighbor guy is going on this rant and arguing with the people in front and the Bunny Brains who just keep playing and ignoring him guy holds his microphone towards the ranting neighbor and samples everything over and over in loop after loop and the guitarist and bassist and drummer have been playing the whole time and they just keep playing and playing and the neighbor keeps yelling and freaking out and the whole thing sounded like this (at full screeching volume with muti voices happening at once):
    "Sreeeeeee-waaarrrooowweeeee... BASH! BASH! BASH! stop! stop! the police have been called! sreeeee! the pol-l-l-l-l-i-i-i-i-i-c-c-c-c-c-ce... pol pol -polllllll-scweeeet-stop! stop! stop! playing! stop! playing! I re----s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s---speee-e-e-e-ct respect-t-t-t-t- respect your right to your art! ART! ART POLICE! ART! screeeee! Art! Stoo-o-o-o-o-op! but ple-e-e-e-ease come downstairs and see what it's like to respect my right to live in my apartment with your racket! Screeeewah-wah-wah-wah!! Bash! Bash! Respect my right to live in my apapapapapapapa-art-t-t-t-t-tment! Screeeeeee! You are all spoiled white brats! BRATS! BRATS! BRATS! Police! art! Screeewahwahwah! Police have been called! Wahwahwah Your all SICK! Your art is sick! Screeee- freedom of- POLICE have been apartment! Screeeweeeeweeeee!!!! re----s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s---speee-e-e-e-ct respect-t-t-t-t- respect my right to call police!! scree spoiled white brat police have been called!!! STOP RECORDING MENOWWW- w-w-w-wah wha wah hahahaha! My ci-i-i-i-ivil rights!!! BASH! BASH copywrirteinfringe- fringe-f ringe- apart-ment! Wah Wha!Wha wah wah! Citizens' ar-r-r-r-r-reswwwooooeeeooop-esT!!! you are all sick ART!!! POLICE APARTMENT!!!! POLICE APARTMENT ART!!!  Idiots art police stop respect!!!! Sreeeewwwahahahahaha weeee ...ooooop!"
    It was quite an aural moment - I hope the Bunny Brains recorded it and put it on their next album. The whole argument sound song or whatever you want to call it went on for like ten minutes until the guy stomped away downstairs with his hands over his ears... with the Bunny Brains still playing and playing and his own voice echoing over and over in loops throughout the entire neighborhood. What a performance!
    When I went home right after the show... Guillaume told me that he had been sitting on our fire escape during the party I was at next door and had seen "...some middle aged blond guy trying to wave down cop cars on the street in front of our building like a raving maniac... " who all unceremoniously  just passed him right by. So I told Guillaume the whole story about the most radical performer at the show... the one who blew everyone else away.

2: The answers I gave to the person who runs my fan site "MarkAllenCamFanPage" - who interviewed me on Friday.
    BAHAHAHAHahahahahahahaw! Haw! Haw! Haw! Haw!!! Of course they didn't get the gag and they shut down their site for a few hours but then they thought about it and realized I was kidding - after I did some explaining. But really what did I expect by being so odd and blunt and unpredictable? I would have taken offense too if someone had answered questions I had asked in that fashion. God it felt good to be so "mean" and "honest". It was like shutting the door on every bullshit thing and taking a long cool drink of water in a breeze-y field of wildflowers - through evil. Wouldn't it be great if EVERYONE talked like this in interviews? Here is the interview with my answers:

DietDew: Sight & Sound recently did a poll of several respected critics and filmmakers regarding their picks for the top ten best films ever made.  Inexplicably once again "Citizen Kane" topped the list.  Predictably, John Waters had one of the few really outre lists.  If they had polled you, which films would you place in your top ten and why?

Mark: Ugh. Sight and Sound? Is that one of those faggy film rags that black people can't relate to? I heard all the writers for that faggy art trash are dying of AIDS. You would read garbage like that... I bet you shell out the $16.00 cover price for that rag every month like a toothless junkie whore shells out her rancid pussy jones-ing for smack. Let me ask you a question professor Fat-enstein... why the fuck would a grown man with a full time job create a "fan site" about someone else's website? Do you have any thread of a life at all? Are you dead? Do you upload your html to the MarkAllenCam Fan site via the grave? You might as well be dead as far as I'm concerned. I wish you would die... people like you creep me the fuck out. I mean... c'mon... are you retarded? Really... are you? Jim used to work with retarded people a long time ago and can do a real good retard voice. I bet it sounds like you. "Mwah-mwah-I-ya gonna taka-tha' pic-tyoures of Mak Awen onna web-thite uya uya..." I bet that's how you talk.

How did you first become interested in film?  I know that "Times Square" did a number on your adolescent head but did you go on to more 80's trash classics like the "Angel" teenage L.A. hooker series & "Nightmare on Elm Street" or did you get more into artier stuff by the Coen Brothers or, God help us, Merchant-Ivory? Oh, and which was your first Dario Argento film?

Because it's on the television. GOD!!! Who came up with these questions? A seal? Did I mention to you by the way that your website is quite possibly the most poorly designed and amateurish piece of garbage in the history of art? Even going back to the cave painting days? And the things you get WRONG on the page about me could fill a zillion cutting room floors! I bet you live in a trash can... like Oscar the Grouch... I'll bet your personality makes Oscar look like fucking Pollyanna. No seriously... your design skills could be beaten by a dodo bird who was still in the womb. Your imagination is like an ostrich's wings. And your "writing" - that's not writing... that's typing. Do you know what exists outside your four walls? Do you ever go outside? Are you suffering from lack of oxygen? Did you have brain problems at birth? God you are sad. You're like a freakish homunculus germinated outside lawful procreation. Brrrrr... you give me the shudders.

After your experiences trying to make the underground film ("Headcase"), do you have any plans in that venue again?  I saw a documentary on PBS late-night about a social worker in mid-60's Spanish Harlem who brought Super-8 cameras into the community and taught kids how to make movies.  Have you considered buying a cheap b/w video cam and making your own little films?  Also, if Gregory ever makes it in movies/tv, do you have a copy of the footage you shot of him to sell to Inside Edition?

You know what you are? A couple of dilithium crystals short of a warp core. Do you get that?  Oh wait that's right... you're a moron. You know what would be a good career move for you? Your death... that's what. You're like a stupid person's idea of a clever person.  God your MarkAllenCam fan page is pathetic... I mean... the very IDEA of it is weird. Do you ever come up with your own ideas? Can you tie your own shoes? Do you even HAVE shoes? Do you even have legs? I bet you are the kind of person who thinks a new idea entering into their mind is like a violation. You're like a parrot with skin... you just copy other people. Please invent a time machine and go back in it and do us all a favor and eradicate your very existence please.

You did a couple of nude layouts in the early 90's which you now regret doing, and despite the fact that there is a Mark Allen who made gay porn flicks, he isn't you.  Is that name coincidental and were you ever tempted to work in that industry?  Why do those photos embarrass you now, but not some of images you've captured on-cam, like your monkey-boy face, looking grubby/unshaven, with a knife in your back/decapitated, or even the one you had up of Greg "blowing" you a year or so ago? Control issues?  Did those gory images upset your family or did they recognize your work, so to speak?

You know what it's like every time you add new content to your sad MarkAllenCam Fan Page? It's like sitting in a sewer and adding to it. And that doesn't even half describe what it's like to READ it. *shudder*. I saw that photograph of you... it looks like you have the face of a warthog that has been stung by a bee. Oh and by the way... when you make a comb over you aren't supposed to use your ARMPIT hair. No seriously... was that a photo of you or did something get loose from the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade?

What prompted you to go 24/7 live on cam?  Obviously vanity is not a big concern of yours.  You're very good at making faces and trying out different looks, such as the controversial KKK hood you wore one evening.     How long do you see your self on cam via the internet?  Will you eventually offer streaming live video or is that too invasive?  Have you considered hosting a public access show like Cherry Jubilee?  That would seem to be your true calling.

You know what your true calling is? A clog in a big pipe. Yep... I bet you could be outwitted by a jar of mayonnaise I heard you inspired that slogan "A mind is a terrible thing to waste". You know that should be the slogan on top of your MarkAllenCam Fan Page. Are you paralyzed from the neck up? When you get your whole family together does it make one whole brain? No but seriously you stupid nerd fuck... if you EVER... and I mean EVER so much as even THINK about doing anything that even in the slightest sense resembles stalking of me you will be slapped with a restraining order so fast your children will be born dizzy

So hit the trail mix Sir Feeds-a-Lot, get out of my way, get a life, then drop dead please.

3: Andrea Naschak's (aka April Rayne) performance as Sabra in Joel Hershman's forgotten 1992 film "Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me"

    Apparently Andrea has/had a porn acting past (she was even in one of the original 'New Wave Hookers' movies)... and left it all at some undetermined point to make a shot at the big time. During that time she played the hysterically over-the-top, obnoxious, train wreck of an older sister and stripper Sabra in Joel Hershman's forgotten and way underrated 1992 comedy "Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me". Almost all the best lines belong to Andrea... and she almost always steals the show in every scene she's in (that's her laying on top of Adrienne Shelly in the middle photo above - like the outfit?) You've never heard anyone spit out the lines "community chest" with such bombastic aplomb. Andrea literally cold cocks every scene she's in - even when she's just painting her toenails and ripping her leg hair off with wax strips and saying the word "pedo-FEEL"" or maybe handcuffing her younger sister inside the bathroom of the trailer home they both live in and then bringing her home a buritto later to appease her. It's a knockout, bullshit-less performance with great comic timing. I haven't even seen the film recently... I was just describing it to someone and suddenly I remembered it all over again. If you haven't seen it I recommend the film... it's very funny. And Andrea's performance is unforgettable.

4: Sam Stern's (of writing about girls in "hate" porn
    Sam Stern's writing about straight porn that seems to intentionally degrade the female porn actresses in the videos - and the writing on the cardboard boxes and web sites that feature these videos, and how he feels about it.

5: The Bath Body and Works Grapefruit Peppermint lotion that Gregory bought me as a surprise gift
    It smells real nice. A surprise gift from a friend. Whadda treat.

6: "America's Funniest Home Videos" on ABC
    The funniest show on television. More brilliant than The Simpsons.

7: Cherry Coke
    I know it's been around before. But it seems to be around a lot more now that Coke has come out with all those flavored Cokes. Like Lemon Diet Coke (awful - tastes like what I imagine Lemon Pledge Furniture Polish would taste - I think they forgot that that acidic tartness reaction in your mouth and on your teeth that you get when you squeeze a real lemon in Coke is part of the taste...  the flavor of lemon alone doesn't cut it) and Vanilla Coke (tried it once... didn't like it). Ice cold Cherry Coke is perrrrrrrrrfect though.

8. The idea of building some super futuristic pod like house from the ground up - out of wacky materials - and doing it in some fantastic wilderness setting in the middle of nowhere (or at least thumbing through a picture book on the subject)
    It's like ying and yang... the mixing of super technology and unknowable nature. Everybody's doing it... or at least making expensive and lavishly designed photo books on the subject. Walk into any artsy/trendoid bookstore in New York City (i.e.; Printed Matter) and you will find a million of these books... and each one will have pictures of a million fantastically unbelievable homes like these in them.

9: Wild rice sesame sticks
    I don't know who the hell makes them. I get them from the back section of this weird grocery store in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. You know where they sell all kinds of things in big glass jars with big scoops and a Ukrainian woman helps you with them. I literally show up and buy like $10 worth (at only $2.50 a pound this ends up being quite a bit). Its literally to the point now where I walk into the back of the store and the Ukrainian woman starts walking over to the wild rice sesame sticks jar. Once I bought some dried green apple slices also and this totally confused her for about 30 seconds). They can't be any other kind of sesame sticks... like the normal kind - that stuff is dog food. They can't be "whole wheat" or "soy" or "bar-b-q flavored" sesame sticks - has to be the wild rice ones... the food of The Gods. I'm like some drooling addict. Damn they're fucking fantastic. I had this realization the other day where I realized I had eaten NOTHING except for them and some Dr. Pepper (and my morning coffee) for like... almost an entire day and was like "Uh oh I'd better eat some real food. The freaky thing was that after eating just those all day I felt GREAT.

10: Jim

Top Ten Things for 9/16/02
1:  Michele "Party Girl" Comstock (as seen on FOX's 'America's Most Wanted' - 9/14/02)
Hahahahahahahahahahaha!!! Woo-hoo!!! PAR-teee!!! Some people think life should just be one big soiree. And why should it ever end? God I live for people like this. When your FBI's Most Wanted list (hands down the coolest gossip column to EVER be mentioned in) describes you as known for "wearing heavy eyeliner" and "thin" and "smokes Marlboro 100's" and known to wear "jeans with t-shirts with bar logos on them" and "likes Budweisers and gin and tonics and marijuana and methamphetamines" you know one thing: you are a bitching bad-ass babe. Yet even with all this, the America's Most Wanted mug shots rarely look so hot. They showed some video footage of her on the show... and I swear I was watching a Suzi Quatro video! For 39 this killer looks DAMN good!
    I guarantee you that in high school in the early 80's, Michele drove a Camero (or had a boyfriend that did), wore tight jeans, had the exact same same hairstyle and make up, flipped the bird a lot and loved Ozzy. Apparently these days Michele spends her nights drinking and looking fucking hot as hell at the local suburban watering hole... and her days getting ready to do that (with occasional breaks in the pattern to streak her hair or put on her Pat Benatar eye make-up). I think Michele is the true living grown-up version of the high-school-bad-girl daughter Lulu from John Water's "Polyester".
    Michele is wanted in all 50 states for taking a wrong turn one blurry night and plowing her car into the living room of a suburban home and mowing over a small kid (who later died)... then fleeing the scene to go drink some more (she claims she was trying to find an attorney). Shortly thereafter she skipped town... and was last seen wearing a "shoulder length curly red wig" while ordering Jell-O shots at a Bennigan's no doubt. If you think you have seen Michele... please click here, or call 1-800-CRIME-TV. Or maybe... COULD IT POSSIBLY BE? Maybe entry #2 is her:

2:  Norma "Hell On Wheels" Carreiro driving her RV through lower Manhattan on Friday
    "Outta my way you snooty New Yorkers!!! AAARRRGGGHHH!!!" It started on Delancey and Bowery streets on the Lower East side (right by me!), took a Hell-bent, 90mph path across the Willaimsburg Bridge (my jogging route!) and ended in Williamsburg, Brooklyn (after running over a woman on South Fifth Street and Union Avenue - currently in Bellevue in critical condition) after crashing into a pole on Kent Avenue. Cutting like a bar fly through a six pack of Budweiser, and with her fiancé, two daughters, future sister-in-law and poodle Spike inside the RV... Norma used it like a battering ram and just plowed through anything in her way... hitting a total of 13 cars and a zillion other things (and people). With the pedal to the metal, beer in hand, the Dixie Chicks on the tape deck, and brain and eyeballs and ears oblivious to the outside world as frantic cops gave chase ...Norma just fucking *WENT FOR IT*. I bet it was kind of like flying! Norma was just trying to get to Kentucky to see her new granddaughter and had NO TIME for euro-trashy New York attitude! This was family!  "It looked like she was hitting toys," said one of the cops who gave chase. "She was pretty drunk," said Carreiro's 25-year- old future sister-in-law.
    For anyone who's painfully tried to weed their way through constipated and assaultive Manhattan traffic and thought to themselves "Goddamnitt  what if I just floored it and plowed like a tank through all these losers RIGHT NOW!!! Fuck fuck fuck FUCK!!!" but let quiet reason shush the voices in their head... then Norma is our hero. Especially since Norma had a bumper sticker on the back of her RV that read "I DO WHAT THE VOICES IN MY HEAD TELL ME TO". I bet Norma Carreiro and Michele Comstock would get along swell. Or... IS Norma really Michele?
    "Norma" is being held and charged with driving under the influence, reckless endangerment and endangering the welfare of a child.

3: These photos...

  ...of Ramzi Binalshibh (alleged logistics and financial planner of the September 11th, 2001attacks on the United States) being arrested in Pakistan. How fucking hot are these photos?

4: The whole September 11th one year anniversary
    Over and over I kept thinking of that old Public Enemy song "911 Is a Joke".

5: The four poster board Sunday School collages I found in the dumpster outside a big church on Grand street.
    A shiny ribbon blowing out of a trash heap in the night wind caught my eye while I was walking to Rite Aid this week... like a hand beckoning me. Aren't they great? Jim really got a kick out of them. I would love to put them on my wall but they are too big. So here they are (modeled by Guillaume): 1, 2, 3 and 4. I really like #2.

6: and websites (thanks Gregory!)
    Click here for and here for I love freaky, twisted sex web sites created by prolific basement weirdos that my friends email me day after day, week after week... Hey, if American's can't email each other weird sex sites from the internet all day everyday while bored at their comfy jobs, then the terrorists will win people! Which MEANS that emailing these twisted websites to each other is as American as apple pie! Of course these sites usually revolve around some ...odd... bar of the sexuality spectrum that has been hidden under a rock all this time (until the invent of the internet). Hey I'm not talking no porn crap here - obvious shit like girls with dogs or poop or whatever. I'm talking REALLY funny sex sites that BOTHER you subconsciously... maybe, a little bit. You want to laugh or get real scared or just click "exit" and you usually just end up perusing the whole thing in disbelief... with a slight headache. These parody-proof sites seem truly surreal... rather than "hot" or sexy or "funny" or even gross. This one is like a weird triple mixture of the Marquis de Sade, R2-D2 and Paul Bartell's "Eating Raoul". So even though this one is pretty explicit... in the hall of fame of freaky/weird/scary/funny/surreal sex websites (that is currently occupied by, and The Inflatable Galleries) goes: and If you're reading this at work where people can see your monitor DO NOT OPEN.

7.The fact that Neil Hamburger has a new religious based comedy record coming out this month
    Holy comedy! The new Jimmy Fallon comedy LP better watch out! It's got some STIFF competition... yes it's Neil "That's My L-i-i-i-i-ife!" Hamburger's return to GLORY! Hal-lay-lew-ya!
    In case you've been living on Mars in a cave with your hands over your ears and a blindfold for the last decade... I will tell you that Neil Hamburger is the GOD of stand-up comedy, the man who answered the time-less question "Where's the Beef?" by merely existing, the living testament to observational humor swank... an brave punch-line warrior who has made drunken heckling never sound so painfully sweet, an entertainer who has tackled one-man shows at Pizza Huts in Hollywood (Arizona), XXX-rated comedy, comedy rap, a failed TV special pilot, prank phone call genius, being left for dead in Malaysia, tear jerking soliloquies to Princess Diana, Richard Nixon spoken word tributes, conceptual humor, and now... RELIGIOUS COMEDY!
    According to a recent interview with the San Francisco Bay Guardian; "It contains a lot of religious-based humor," Hamburger said of the album, speaking from a phone booth outside a Long John Silver's restaurant in Billings, Mt. "The motivation is that I was told to do that by my management, to try and cash in on some of the trends going around."
    Neil's new soon-to-be-classic comedy masterpiece, "Laugh Out Lord", will be released sometime in September... on Drag City records. Next time you find yourself helpless with laughter... let Neil reach a hand down to you brother! Get ready to laugh... it's the SECOND COMING... of comedy!  I think I see the...   LAUGH! PASS THE COLLECTION PLATE!!!

8: The funny level of communication I have with Gregory
    We can whip each other into this criminally insane back-and-forth humor thing. We keep trying to out-do each other and it ends up going higher and higher. We laugh so hard we're crying. The ideas we come up with and the things we say could be in movies or novels... they're that twisted and funny. It's always spontaneous... and can never be re-created. We have tried to re-create it (like on my radio show) but it just doesn't happen. So I guess it's just something he and I will be able to share together forever... and that's the only place it will ever exist. I think communicating by making each other laugh is a pretty high plateau of communication.

9: Jim and mine's Sunday night talk about post religion, post-decadence, post-hippie karma worship and the people who practice it
    Were we complaining? Admiring? I think we were laughing... at ex-hippie parents who meditate and think ghosts can only be seen by those who aren't enlightened and think re-incarnation is like this pyramid thing... and people who follow the "laws" of "karma" too literally and end up worshiping The Oprah Winfrey Show and relating plane crash deaths to sin and bunny rabbit births and eventually turning into cold hearted serial killers. Hi-LAR-ee-us!!!

10: Seeing Jim in the candle light in my bedroom Wednesday night

Top Ten for 9/9/02:

1: The two "medleys" sung by the 20 runner-ups in the final episode of FOX TV's "American Idol" *
    Hahahahahahahahahahaha!!! Oh my God somebody telephone Monry Python... television is rarely this brilliant. It was priceless... I sat on the edge of my seat... mouth gaping... eyes as big as basketballs... laughing so hard I couldn't breath... just waiting for the next missed cue... the next girl trying too hard to act sultry while not being able to even be heard by her microphone (during her solo!)... the next horrific mis-match of voices on a chorus... the next half-hearted "Who-hoo!" ... the next melody barked like a seal... the next male solo that sounded like air being let out of a balloon... the next failed attempt at fake savvy filler media speak turned into awkward sourness... the next queen trying to act like he was into girls... the next interviewed finalist who answered questions by over-complimenting everything around them into oblivion... the next bad segway... the next hairstyle that probably looked great in the dressing room but didn't work at all on a someone actually moving (or singing) on stage as it's shellacked tendrils smacked the performer repeatedly in their own face... the next shot of Kelly's parents who literally looked like they walked out of a John Waters film... the next EVERYTHING!!! MORE! MORE! MORE! I wanted MORE of it ALL!!! Lets just say that all the individual voices of the runner-ups didn't exactly... uh, MIX well together all on stage at once. And it was all presented with the "$$$" and show-y pomp and importance of a Presidential inauguration. We were watching cultural history being made! And seeing the result of an intensive nation-wide search for THE BEST ...the *BEST* VOCALISTS IN ALL OF AMERICA!!! ALL ON ONE STAGE!!! All singing one glorious song! Did someone inform NASA? Did we ever think we would live to see the day?
    I really hope an audio tape of these two medleys ends up on Irwin Chusid and Michelle Boulé's "Incorrect Music" show on It's where it belongs... under the spotlight of hilarious infamy.
    This was like your worst half-time show nightmare (or fantasy) come to fruition times 3,000,000,000. And they did it TWICE!!!   I've always said that people are funniest when they don't realize they are being funny... and I think it was Charlie Chaplin who said the key to great comedy is a character who thinks they are getting away with something, even though it's obvious that they are not.
    I only saw the first episode of "American Idol" - and this one... so I missed everything in-between. Does anyone agree with me that that Tomika girl (the black girl who mouthed off to the English judge on the first episode and called him an ass) should have stormed the stage during one of the medleys on the last show and taken over one of the microphones and just fucking went for it on live TV to get the ultimate revenge - punching out anyone that came for her without missing a note? She would have brought the house down! Now THAT would have been brilliant!
    Oh now don't get me wrong... I'm no scrooge. I can definitely speak from experience when I say it takes true guts to put yourself up there in the spotlight for everyone to judge... and if you've never done it before you have NO IDEA how complex and difficult and gay and vomit-y it is. There were obviously some talented efforts up there, and some great looking personas (two of the black girls who were runners ups seemed to blow Kelly out of the water vocally, stage persona-wise and looks-wise - what exactly happened during the voting?)  Look for the winner Kelly singing the "American Idol National Anthem" (that's the standard national anthem with the 'American Idol' logo stamped all over it) at the Lincoln Memorial in Washington D. C. on live FOX television September 11th (not a joke - check your listings).
    And that Justin character... and don't fool yourself he is indeed a fucking CHARACTER. Here's my math problem (A + B x C = E) to explain his personality: he seems like a bastard child that was the result of a gang rape of Kathy Lee Gifford (where he gets his in-front-of camera manner) by Richard Simmons (where he gets his secret personality and hair), Carrot Top (where he gets his hair again and his less-secret  but more toned-down personality that will make him great in wacko physical comedy sketches) and drag-less Ru Paul (his facial expressions).
    The American Idol show was the kind of show that people pretend to love to hate but really love to love and will defend sporadically (usually if they are in the presence of someone they disapprovingly perceive as a cynic) with phrases like "Hey... it's only television!" It's true - it WAS just television! It was GREAT just television ...and it was fucking comedy dynamite.
    * Wow, you know I typed this the day after the show, all laughing maniacally and cracking up like I was so brilliant.. and now posting up to my website nearly a week later it seems like such OLD news and I'm like "Yawn?"

2: The dinner I had at Old Devil Moon restaurant on East 12th Street on Thursday night
    Gargantuan plate of amazing, thickly sliced sweet brisket with hearty, steaming, collard greens and heaping mashed potatoes with steaming, rich gravy... with a giant, bottom-less glass of iced tea - and followed by over-grown fresh blueberry cobbler pie with freezing home-made vanilla ice cream. The entire meal was %100 on every possible level.

3: The phrase "parody-proof"
    The kind of philosophy power-house phrase that's bound-less boundaries and meaningless meanings could be debated for a an infinity... and that's definition-less definition means the same different things to different people and different same things to the same people. Think about it... I haven't. See entry # 1.

4: The sex Jim and I had Thursday night
    Subtly mind-blowing. We got down like the freaky niggers.

5: Manhattan this time of year

6. The public park between Chrystie and Forsyth streets, below Houston street... all the way down to Rivington street
    Hahahahahahaha!!! Did you see that!?!?!? Fuck downtown fringe theater... this is 1,000,000 times better and it isn't funded by some trust fund mess either. This place is like the most amazing non-stop show in NYC... or at least one of them. And it's FREE! Although there's a slight chance you may end up paying with your life ...or maybe your soul - but that would require you going there A LOT and actually hanging out with the performers and acclimating their non-jetset lifestyle... but hey, CARPE DIEM! You can show up here at any hour... and I do mean ANY hour with some popcorn and soda and one of those giant Nestle candy bars (and maybe some crystal meth and a light bulb to smoke it out of) and just sit back on a bench (make sure it's not some razor-carrying zombie's marked 'territory') and watch the non-stop drama that is the human condition at the edge of what ever you consider normal, non-desperate, non-teeth grinding, non-selling-access-to-your-genitals-for-pennies existence to be. If you thought the hospital emergency room on a Friday or Saturday night was exciting... get ready to be blown away. I've got to bring my camera to this place. Recommended.

7: The incidental music performance art that occurred on Broome street between Ridge and Pitt streets on Tuesday afternoon
    It was a great day. The bright sun was shining, the breeze was bristling through the trees, playing children could be heard in the distance and the birds were singing in the background. I was walking east on Broome... on my way home... full of inner peace for some reason. I saw a used acoustic guitar propped up against these rows of bright blue garbage barrels. Some merry minstrel had thrown out their guitar! Why thank you kind brother! As I got closer to embrace it's magic... I saw why... it was cheap to begin with... beat up, and missing half it's strings. I stopped and picked up the hollow framed wood guitar and strummed the few out-of-tune strings left on it. I could still make a few pluck-y, beautiful minimal notes and chords out of what was left of it. Considering the setting, background noises and general still-ness of the area... it sounded like bliss.  I realized I could place the head of the guitar against one of the barrels when I plucked a string and this would cause the pretty sound to "resonate" prettily. Like a really gay Brian Eno vs. John Fahey record (if there ever was such a thing). I just stood there, next to the dumpsters and plucked away... very slowly. It sounded immediate and fresh... beautiful... like time was stopping and stuff like that...  there was no one around... the roar of NYC seemed to fade out into that weird perfect nothingness that is sort of what I imagine heroin is like... I was definitely having a "moment". It was like weird private heaven in the middle of a public area... I was one step away from getting naked and kissing bunnies. I considered taking the garbage instrument home just for providing me with such a gay time... but like a true hippie I decided to leave it for whoever else might discover it for me. After plucking and strumming for about four minutes... I placed the instrument back exactly as I had found it... and walked away thinking of angels and puppies. When I was about ten feet away from the guitar I heard two voices behind me. I turned around and saw two young black guys in trendy Delancey Street clothing walking towards the guitar. "Hey look at this!" one said as he ran towards the guitar... picked it up... and without missing a beat, raised it over his head and *SMASHED* it down onto the pavement. This caused it to splinter into some large chunks... save for the body, which his friend jumped onto with both feet and caused it to smash like a wedding cake. Then they just walked away like ...bored.  I just started laughing my head off. The incident from the moment I picked up the guitar and was like "la-la-la-la-la-la-I'm-a-flower" to the moment the guys were done smashing where it was like "SMASH - sckqur-o-o-o-o-ghue-b-z-z-z-zt-frewwww-w-w-w-w-tinkle-twang-SCKRONCHE-poink..." it was probably about 5 minutes tops (and the gap of time between when I placed the guitar down and the guys picked it up couldn't have been more than 8 seconds). The whole incident should have been recorded - it was blissfully hilarious.

8: Guillaume's sexy French accent
    On Saturday evening he pronounced the phrase "Why would Susan Sarandon want to save the gorillas?" and it was like suddenly all the walls and floors of the apartment melted away and we were transported back to 1,000,000,000 B.C. in some desert-y landscape and the sky was orange and were were both laying there like there looking just like upright-standing, half-developed monkey fetuses and I spooged in my pants. It was a primal, teleport-ative, collective unconscious, wormhole-to-the-beginning-of-evolution, survival-of-the-fittest, robotic procreation sexual response to a really hot accent. Wow.

9: Reading the "Experience" stories on The Vaults of Erowid web site (
    Somebody on my message board posted a like to this site when I was talking about Diphenhydramine Hydrochloride. What's so great about this amazingly extensive database of drugs you can take to alter your body and mind - everything you could ever want to know about each one - is the "experiences" section of each drug's page. People can write in any and every kind of experience (as best they can remember) from each drug... from the inter-dimensionaly transcendent to the unimaginably nightmarish... from bliss to death and back again and everything in between. These stories are pretty great reading. This site is for seriously hard core drug experimenters... like the brain surgeons or rocket scientists of tripping your brains out. If you look at this list of psychoactive drugs and say that you know what they all are and say something like "I did that... it's WILD" on all of them you are a fucking wimp liar and probably also say stuff like "I like pushing people's buttons" and crap like that.

10: The fact that I drink my coffee black with no sugar
    Guillaume and Jim are all grandma-like and stuffy by the coffee maker in the morning... needing spoons and diddling with sticky sugar containers and milk and crap... pouring, tasting, fixing, re-pouring, clinkity-clink-clink stirring with a metal spoon and getting it just right... spilling shit all over the place and needing a napkin or a doily or whatever because the soy milk came out of the box all spill-y and their cup is now gonna make a smelly ring wherever they place it. Talk about bad feng shui - it's like starting your morning mentally constipated... whereas I'm all like "Excuse me!" and I pour my coffee into a big cup 1-2-3 and am like *zooooom* outtathere. Guillaume and Jim are like "What was that?" all standing there holding a dripping spoon in mid-air.
    I'm like an invisible-sword ninja ghost in the morning at the coffee maker - I'm practically dipping down from the ceiling on bunjee cords and pouring my coffee! God I'm so great.
    You should see me on airplanes! The flight attendant is all "Would you like these little gay packets of sugar and milk thingies to crowd up your overcrowded tray some more sir?" and I'm like "No thanks" as I take my first sip and everyone in the plane is sitting up and turning around in their seats to get a look at me and are like "Who IS that guy?!"

Top Ten for 9/2/02:

1: Jim
    All hail Jim, "The God of  making me feel like everything is going to be OK". I really like Jim a lot. He's like a glowing, white hot conduit of happiness and endless hope for the future beaming down from the heavens - widening my perspective, bukake-ing spooge of hope onto my face, holding out a hand (with a novelty buzzer attached)... like a fantastic, soul-centering dream come to life. He's like a burly, gorgeous, Matthew McConaughey-looking, banjo playing yodeler in a bluegrass band who bakes erotic cakes on the side and is really smart and has an evil, sarcastic sense of humor... oh wait he REALLY IS that. He's like my separated siamese twin come back to me. He's like a sleep-over party with your best friend when you were both 10 years old except we're a lot older. All hail The Wonder Twins; "Form of... an ice jet!", "Form of... a cougar! Wrrrooooaaaarrr! Raour! Raour!!" *crash!* ...see only Jim will get that. Jim is the only person in the universe who knows about my plans for the "Ultimate Disguise".

2: The new Willaimsburg Bridge walkway
    In NYC. They have been working on this walkway... no the whole BRIDGE, for like 1,000,000,002 years now. It was starting to get pretty dreary and endless. But about 6 months ago a glimmer of *wow* - a long, bright red cage appeared out of nowhere at both far ends of the bridge. It kept... growing. What is it you say Mr. Crane Operator (back in April)? A fantastic walkway you say? So high up? so brightly colored? It's a fantastic, Jacques Tati-esque, almost futuristic-looking walkway in blazing bright red - and which puts walkers, bike riders and joggers (me) about 70 feet higher than any of the cars or anything (and with a fantastic view) inside a super-wide, cage like thing with no roof... and I learned today that it splits into two parts while in the center part of the bridge. It's getting closer and closer and closer to getting completed. The view from every inch of this thing must be inspirational to say the least... and any trip across it must be... transcendent. A bit cold in the winter? WHO CARES! This is New York City! Even the people in wheelchairs will have the wind whipping through their hair and a beaming smile on their faces! Ohhhhh I can't wait! I want to cut the ribbon!!! Open! Open! Open! Open! Open! Open! Open! Open! Open! OPEN!!!!!!!!!! OPEN!!!!

3: Sammy's stories
    On the telephone... sometimes at 3:30AM. I have never laughed so hard in my life and struck my forehead with my palm in amazement at the bizarre complexity of the universe and it's inhabitants - so much. I will NEVER get tired of freaks... and this guy is like... an entire universe of them in one person's body. His wild stories are like SOS transmissions from control central - and the funny ones make me laugh so hard I think I'm going to cry (plus these ones off-set the truly scary ones in which I'm shocked by Sammy's behavior; 'Sammy... uh... do you really think it was a good idea to...' - but trust me these are much fewer). Talk about a conversation piece! If this guy ever gets organized and writes a book it will be either a best seller or banned forever.

4: Stopping taking Diphenhydramine Hydrochloride every night
    An over the counter sleeping aid (basically it's generic Tylenol PM without the Acetaminophen). I had a very frank discussion with a doctor who said that people have no idea how much this stuff affects them cognitively during the day... and millions of americans take it every night so they can sleep and then walk around for 85% of the next day with partial lobotomies... talk about a daydream nation. She said it would be better for you, better for your BRAIN, to take a valium at night to get to sleep. That kind of thing, even though it's a controlled substance - will clear right out of your system quickly and leave your brain intact. I did a little research and indeed this is true. Yow. Now when I see those Tylenol PM commercials on TV with the woman jogging through the forest in the morning saying "I LOVE my Tylenol PM!" it creeps me out. I stopped taking it (slowly) and now I'm off it completely. I don't sleep quite as well (hey NYC is a non-stop carnival in Hell!) but I definitely feel more alert in the daytime. And you know what? I can really feel a difference. What the fuck was I thinking? Oh yea... I couldn't.

5: Guillaume moving in
    It's working out pretty good! He's funny and VERY VERY VERY talkative. He's added life to the apartment. French music, French cooking, non-stop questions about what jokes mean on television, a fridge, probably a new paint job on the walls (white), a new DSL internet connection, non-stop internet cruising, zero mental baggage, a thirst for life and a world-wide life experience level (read: smart, funny, relaxed and 99.9% issue-less). We're like Inspector Clouseau and Cato.

6a: Wreckers of Civilization The Story of Coum Transmissions & Throbbing Gristle
            - by Simon Ford
6b: Lexicon Devil: The Fast Times and Short Life of Darby Crash and the Germs
            - by Brendan Mullen, Don Bolles, Adam Parfrey, Brenden Mullen
    I'm reading both of these books bit by bit while standing in a Brooklyn bookstore. Every time I go in I read a little more of each one (God I wish I was rich). I'm too scared to try and leave a bookmark in one. They are both neat mixes of fascinating facts, inspirational stories and eyebrow-raising, dishy gossip. Reading them together "illegally" while a trendy sales clerk looks on suspiciously makes me have to switch back and forth between each one at a moment's notice (I'm thinking of going into the store next time in my 'ultimate disguise'). Both books are really interesting. And this experience, me having to read it this way, in turn, mixes up what is written in the two books into this weird cross-referenced omelete. Weird, fun reading.

7: "Barf" brand all-purpose detergent
    Bought for me by my friend Larry while in Romania and abroad (and FedEx'd to me as a creepy anthrax-y surprise since the box of soap had somehow opened inside the FedEx package, spilling white powdered 'Barf' all over the floor when I opened it). Made in Iran - Barf brand detergent is another one of those wacky ironic-language-difference products that make westerners roar with laughter (trust me though, these kinds of 'mistakes' travel across BOTH sides of the language barrier). I have my box of Barf brand detergent now sitting cozily on my shelf where everyone can see it. It makes me feel so warm and centered. According to Larry, Barf Detergent is sold all over Central Asia and Eastern Europe, except for Romania, where they've changed the name because too many people understand English there now.  The directions on the label are priceless:
    5. To obtain best results soak very dirty clothes in a solution of Barf for a few minutes and proceed normally.
    6. WARNING:  Don't wash hands, face, body and food materials in Barf. Keep Barf out of the reach of children.
    Larry says that the Romanian word for "carp"  is "crap," and you can also buy the fish tinned, in little cans that say "canned crap." But he forgot to get any of that.

8: Email correspondence with my grandmother
    Sounds cory but it's true! The oldest living member of my immediate family, and the brightest and most fun to be around (even if it's only email). I was given a polite nudge by an uncle to write her more often and so, honestly, I did it mostly out of duty than anything else (lets all be honest here). What a surprise! What a woman! Wow! She's my new best cyber friend... she hilarious!!! I literally wake up in the morning in anticipation of what she's gonna write next.

9: Strictly for fun websites that have kept me casually obsessed
    The WARHOL STARS TIMELINE on - I usually roll my eyes whenever another wrinkly, faded friend of Andy Warhol pops up to cash in on nothing... but I have to admit I'm always maniacally interested in what they have to say (Jim and I were recently blown away by 'Pie In the Sky: The Brigid Berlin Story' documentary film, and have been quoting it ever since - plus I recently dug out my copy of Mary Waronov's bizarre autobiography 'Swimming Underground' to turn Jim on to it). Why the obsessive compulsive-ness? Guilty pleasures? No, just my own internal conflicts. The TIMELINE on is amazing reading - who knew? - obsessively thorough web site by a person who obsessively collects interesting old records from thrift stores. Each cover (1,000's of them) gets it's own page and many of the pages have mp3s. Totally fascinating. - I started looking at this guy's page casually about a year ago. I thought it was just another blog... but suddenly I find myself more and more obsessed with this guy and the way he thinks. He's like some unreal fantasy character that's too perfect for waking consciousness. But indeed he's real!

10: Friends Forever
    I was originally turned on to these guys by Pseu Braun (who held a clandestine screening of a fascinating documentary film about them at Two Boots on Avenue A  waaaaay long before the Sundance Channel picked it up). I recommend checking out ...uh, whatever it is that Friends Forever do... it's pretty inspiring and weirdly righteous. I want to kick myself for missing their performance here in NYC last week (which was literally three blocks from my apartment - on the sidewalk across from 'The Children's Magical Garden'). Here's the Friends Forever official website.

11: *bonus!* The back of my new haircut by Gregory
    There's a *bonus* 11th entry since this is the first week I'm doing this. I asked Gregory to do something... uh, interesting... to the back of my hair. It's very ill and even my close friends classify it as "wrong". It's kind of disturbing. I've been kidding with Gregory that I should show up where he works barefoot and filthy wearing only a hospital gown (with by ass showing) and Kool-Aid stains on the front and a zombie stare and maybe some poo smeared on me somewhere... just to see people's reaction. My haircut would go with this outfit PER-FECT-LY. When Guillaume saw my haircut he said three words; "electric shock therapy" I don't know if he means I look like an ECT recipient or that he thinks I might NEED some because of doing this to my hair obviously of my own free will. It looks very "Sybil". Gregory says it's very "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest". I think I look like the victim of a "girl gang" fight - you know where girls from one gang cut another girl's hair to get revenge on her or whatever... except in the fight and struggle while they pin her down they only are able to cut erratic chunks of it off. Hey... It's all open to interpretation by friends, loved ones and psychologists! I took a bunch of pictures of it "fresh" and will share them when I gather the inner strength to do so.

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