Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Or, to be precise, down Santa Monica Boulevard back in Hollywood in the 1990s, when – on the way to the drugstore or one of my favorite bars – I would pass the "Undie World of Lili St. Cyr" a lingerie store owned and operated by the legendary stripper who was alleged to have been an nearly role model for Marilyn Monroe. If my memory serves me (which it may not) it was between a dry cleaners and a donut shop. (Although, from the ad it seerms that the mailorder office was on Melrose.) The story was that the store was manned by a crew of little old ladies who were all ex-strippers who’d found a semi-retirement working for Lili. The weird part was that I’d always imagined the strippers of the 1940s and 1050s to be tall and statuesque, but in all of them, including Lili herself, were little tiny women.
Click here for The Cramps
The secret word is Grind
Posted by Mick at 1/31/2012 09:47:00 AM
Our pal Postcriptus sent us this gem of an insight…
“I'm reading a history of Scientology. Peggy Lipton at one point got Elvis to go into the Scientology center on Sunset. They start testing him, but Elvis soon comes back out saying, "Fuck these people! There's no way I'll ever get involved with this son-of-a-bitchin' group. All they want is my money." Not only is this a revelation that many of his peers failed ever to have, but his initial reaction shows that here was a man who either had little in the way of self doubt; or if he had it, then also had the moral fiber to deal with it on his own terms.”
Click here for a party.
Posted by Mick at 1/31/2012 08:35:00 AM
“What a meeting it must have been when Augustus John painted Tallulah Bankhead in 1929. The Welsh artist, famous for his scandalous behaviour and voracious sexual appetite, in the same room as Bankhead the American actress, famous for her scandalous behaviour and voracious sexual appetite.”
Posted by Mick at 1/31/2012 08:22:00 AM
Sunday, January 29, 2012
For some years I have been working in semi secrecy on a book of short stories all from the point of view of cats. (Publishers take note.) The half finished collection contains tales of feral felines and mendacious moggies, but also celebrity cats. I have already written the first scene from The Godfather from the POV of the cat in Marlon’s lap, and I had planned a reworking of Alien as told Jonesey the cat but (goddamn it) author Anne Billson beat me to the punch…
“Nostromo is making hysterical hooting noises and flashing its lights on and off. This is all rather exciting, but as I’m being ferried through the passages and walkways I feel helpless, and would really rather be free to run around. Also, the can-opener is hurling herself around like nobody’s business, so it’s not a smooth journey, I can tell you. Anyhow we roll to a stop, and I can tell straightaway it’s because we’ve run slap-dab into the hairless kitten again. Only I’m not sure I can call it a kitten any more – it’s really big now. Honestly, it’s like a super-giant cat. But since it’s still only a few hours old and clearly hasn’t been housetrained and hasn’t a clue how to groom itself or behave in can-opener company, I shall continue to call it a kitten. Because, technically, that’s what it is.” (Click here for more)
Posted by Mick at 1/29/2012 06:06:00 AM