Matty saw the asshole as soon as he climbed over the fence from Volunteer Park into Lakeview Cemetery. Butchie was waving, like an idiot, right where he had told Matty to meet him: Bruce Lee’s grave at two a.m. Like he had to wave, like there’d be anybody else but Butchie the Rat by Bruce Lee’s grave at two a.m.
He walked over to the asshole. “Where’s my cat, Butchie?”
Some highlights from the London International Book Fair, compiled in the Garden View Hotel on Nevern Square, overlooking a, well, a garden, after three full days of half-hour upon half-hour meetings culminating in two cocktail engagements with three amazing people who reminded us why we do what we do, even if what we do sometimes […]
Supernatural Strategies for Making a Rock ‘n’ Roll Group author Ian Svenonius and his band The Make-Up performed this past weekend at Coachella 2013. “I haven’t had this much fun at a show since I saw the Make-up perform at Bowery Ballroom back in 1998. Yes, Ian, you are still one of my all-time favorites,” […]
The news that Fox 2000 is adapting Go the Fuck to Sleep into a feature-length film, penned by husband-and-wife screenwriting duo Ken Marino (The State, Wanderlust, Role Models, Children’s Hospital) and Erica Oyama (Burning Love) is setting off a media firestorm . . .
Skeleton umbrella. Coney Island crucifix. Tilyou’s Eiffel Tower. Steeplechase shrine. Icon. Landmark: looming, impotent, mocking, futile, naked, moot, regal, red, and ridiculous. Soaring twenty-six stories above the beach and boardwalk, passersby genuflecting at its feet, the Parachute Jump was all of these and none of these and more. Never less. Never. All you had to do was ask Richie . . .