I had a great dream the other day in which I was under a bridge with Kerouac and Bukowski drinking beer and listening to the Flamin' Groovies. Jack was in huarache sandals and a weird surfer's bathing suit with lots of stitching and a lace up front and dancing drunkenly to "Laurie Did It" while Bukowski sat in a lawn chair radiating glumness and sucking down beer but at times showing some grudging amusement at the spectacle of Jack's dancing. We all took turns tossing insults at the sky. The demiurge was neither amused nor concerned. He had already planned our separate demises aeons ago
Current Listening: Flamin' Groovies-entire discography, Alice Cooper-Love it to Death, The Monkees-Missing Links, The Berlin Brats, Chris Bell-I Am The Cosmos, Shaun Cassidy's Greatest Hits & Highs In The Mid-Sixties-Texas & L.A. volumes.
Getting ready to read Mike Nesmith's Infinite Tuesday and the new Ed Sanders book on Sharon Tate- update on the latter its a real stinker, Sanders doesn't seem to have any skills with prose.