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Tuesday, May 10, 2005


Spent a terrific morning trying on wigs at Macy's. I was frightfully drunk, of course, but the clerk didn't seem to mind. I passed out on a divan at one point - when I woke I was in my garden with a sack of plastic swim caps. Curious. Just feet away, Rafe was slouched over another one of his tiresome canvases, painting visions of tulips and God knows what else. I put on a swim cap and told him to stop fouling my garden with his oily ambition. He thinks me a scold and a prophet and he is half right.


Blogger OldHorsetailSnake said...

You put a plastic cap over your brand new blonde wig? Gauche!

Yes, half-right. You are undoubtedly a scophet.

9:22 PM  
Blogger Shane said...

Well, I think we've all had those kinds of mornings. As for tiresome artists, I find that the infliction of hyper-violence is usually enough to dissuade them from producing persistently unmoving daubings. One to consider?

2:27 AM  

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