Dark in the hoooooooouse. I might have a job, after much pavement-pounding. I did my scene today, met some hot Art School girls, got a free lunch from a Jew, found out that Mexicans love ABBA, and explored the city. I applied at some place called Star Magic, a Spencer Gift-style retail gadgetry store and the dude sounded at least a little interested. Barnes & Noble always give me the same brush-off (you are one among THOUSANDS, mortal) but I applied there, too. We'll see.
I just need some cash. Positive instead of negative cashflow. I don't have to be riding with my bowline high above the water, but as long as I'm not sinking, it's all good.
And you may ask me, how do you work this? And I might ask you, where is this subway train going to?
Things I've remembered that I forgot to post about just this week:
Say it with me: "WHAT IS IT? It's it. WHAT IS IT?" etc. I was disappointed; I thought it would be about graf artists; the people who actually paint, not just write their names to stuff. Even if the big boys do it pretty, it's still just an ego-wank. Graffiti art, on the other hand, can be frickin beeyouteeful.
I also forgot two more things, at least, that I at some point remembered forgetting, and vowed to post later (meaning now). Oh, well. What are you gonna do?
I'm gonna rock out. I'm a rocker; I rock out.