Starring Al Pacino in the lead role, I’m very excited about this…
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* Thoughts On Phil Spector
* Happy 70th Birthday Al Pacino!
* Previously On “Nip/Tuck”…
HBO Films: Phil Spector Trailer.
Christopher Lee: A Heavy Metal Christmas.
Don’t worry. I was surprised when I first heard that Christopher Lee fronted his own heavy metal band too. Maybe I shouldn’t have been. Maybe it makes PERFECT sense! Maybe he’s 90 years old, and can do whatever the hell he wants!
He is Dracula afterall.
This is his Christmas single:
You May Also Be Interested In…
* Happy 90th Birthday Sir Christopher Lee!
* Dracula And The Necropolis At Night
* Al Cook’s “Necropolis”
“New York City: A True 8th Avenue Tale” By Bob Heaney.
My friend Bob works as a bouncer on the doors of The Tempest, a great little dive bar on New York’s 8th Avenue. A few days ago, Bob had this utterly jaw dropping story to tell…
A true 8th Avenue tale. Apologies in advance for the use of profanity and one particularly offensive term, but the story wouldn’t be nearly as interesting if it wasn’t quoted verbatim and uncensored:
It was a typical Friday night at Tempest and the evening had thus far been uneventful. We were expecting a decent crowd to file out of the Knicks game and into the pub, but until the final buzzer sounded in the Garden we would have to settle for the slow but reliable business from the handful of regulars and the odd passerby that stopped into the pub. Hoping to kill some time, I stepped out front for a smoke. Within moments of me lighting the cigarette, an unusual-looking fellow approached me. His clothes were far too big for his body (although his build was anything but frail) and he had a manic look in his eyes that was unmistakably the gaze of someone who wasn’t, as they say, “all together”. Far younger and more spry than the usual derelicts who mill about on 8th Avenue, I kept at an arm’s length as he made eye contact with me.
“Yo man, I need two dollars and sixteen cents” he announced with the trademark specificity of so many of the beggars and con men that practice their trade around Penn Station.”I don’t have any money” I replied.
Reaching into his pocket, he produced a Discman that had to have dated to the mid-1990s.
“But my motherfucking batteries is dead, man! I need to listen to my jams!”
“I’m very sorry, buddy,” I reiterated, “but I don’t have anything for you”.
At this point his glare went from crazed to menacing. His eyes assumed a steely clarity that was unsettling, to say the least.
“Is that how we going to play it, motherfucker?” he snapped, the inflection of his voice rising and becoming noticeably louder. “I just got out of motherfucking Rikers, asshole,” he continued. “Do you know what that means? Do you know what that makes me, motherfucker?!”
I took a step back and squared my shoulders, keeping my arms to my sides but otherwise assuming a fighter’s stance. I fully expected him to attack me at that point. Although his dress made him appear comical at first glance, he was nonetheless powerfully built. Just when I thought he was about to swing, however, he began gesticulating wildly to himself.
“It makes me a faggot!”
I looked at him with an expression of utter bewilderment.
“I got fucked in the ass every day there, and now I’m a faggot! Yeah! I’m a faggot! I’m a faggot! Whoooooo!”
He repeated the phrase over and over again, each repetition louder and more enthusiastic than the one that preceded it. As quickly as he had approached, he turned around and began walking away from me into 8th Avenue’s perpetual tangle of traffic. He raised his arms triumphantly above his head and continued to repeat his new mantra:
“I’m a faggot! I’m a faggot! I’m a faggot! Yeah!”
Halfway across the street, he approached an off-duty yellow cab that was sitting in traffic. With one abrupt motion, he grabbed the handle to the driver’s door and swung it open violently. The terrified driver cowered in fear as our hero leaned in and screamed into his ear:
“I’M A FAGGOT!”
Without another word, he calmly walked away from the cab with his arms still raised skyward, sauntering down 30th Street like the heavyweight champion of the world.
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* New York Diary: Part IV
* Keep The Meter Running
* The Statue Of Liberty’s Bum
Billy Connolly Live In Glasgow 2012.
EVENT DETAILS:
Title: BAFTA A Life In Pictures: Billy Connolly Evening Talk.
When: Monday. Decemeber 10th, 2012. 19.30.
Where: Old Fruitmarket, Glasgow.
What?: Yep.
How Much?: ₤20.00.
The spiel from Glasgow Royal Concert Halls’ website:
“Join us in Glasgow to celebrate the work of Scotland’s most famous comedian Billy Connolly, as he looks back over his career in this very special BAFTA A Life In Pictures.”
“Connolly’s career as a successful comedian, musician, television presenter and actor spans six decades, appearing in over 30 films including The Last Samurai, Gulliver’s Travels and Mrs Brown, for which he was nominated for a BAFTA in 1997. More recently, he voiced King Fergus in Pixar’s Brave, appears in Quartet, Dustin Hoffman’s directorial debut, and will play a dwarf warrior in Peter Jackson’s upcoming The Hobbit.”
“Connolly was recently honoured with the Outstanding Contribution to Television and Film Award at the British Academy Scotland Awards.”
You can book tickets right HERE.
See you there!
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* Al Cook’s Marketing & Poster Improvement Service
* “Mooses Come Walking” By Arlo Guthrie
* Books That Are Better Than The Bible
Knitting For Psychos.
Do you ever use Stumbleupon?
The amazing thing about Stumbleupon is that the more you use it, the more it gets to know what kind of things you’re into. This is how I regularly manage to find a lot of stuff on the internet which is in short, Fucked. Right. Up.
…Like KNITTING FOR PSYCHOS!
If You Are A Psycho You May Also Be Interested In…
* Home Decorating: Ed Gein Style
* When Barbie Goes Psycho
* Al Cook’s “Necropolis”
