Last week slipped out of existence without any resistance to the daily grind of waking past noon, Alice embracing me until three, Her going to Irving Plaza, while I wandered the East Village until six, having a drink in a Polish dive, then return to 256 East Street to watch TV, sleep and repeat. An unhealthy rut, but tonight was the first meeting of the National Resurgence Party at the downstair bar in Irving Plaza. I was surprised by the turn-out; Kim and the Kyle, Lang, Joseph Curtin, Mombo, Grant, Alice, Mitchell, John Kemp, the British shoemaker, and Jim Fouratt, Who fought at Stonewall, who’s more interest in having sex with me than my humorous take on American politics.
After Stanley, the manager brought us a round of drink, I announced that the NRP will officially launch in the New Year with a meeting on the Staten Island Ferry to propose the occupation of Greenland, whose premise is a joke since the USA has no interest in world domination after the Vietnam Debacle other than to capitalism in the USSR through the sale of Coca-Cola.
Yesterday Metro-Novelties went well at Irving Plaza, even though David McDermott narcissistic madman routine of a Stock Broker losing his mind after the Stock Market crash of 1929. Not that he was a jumper. David heroically had helped rescue Patti Astors’s husband after he fell of Tom Sculley’s roof, but he has been replaced as emcee by the Mumps Kristin Hoffman, who is so funny and musically talented.
Klaus Nomi was the headliner and his popularity has spread beyond the gay demi-monde. We remain friends, but one day and one day soon he will be a star and stars have little time to space of light bulbs like myself. “Lady Bug’ Hickman performed he erotic acrobatic routine and I wondered what it would be like to have sex with such a flexible female. Alice and I haven’t touched each other in weeks.
Her rat-thin witchy friend Susan glares at me as if I were fucking her cat. She really is a cunt, but thankfully I have nothing to do with such a soul ugly harridan. Lance Loud lovingly covered the Sex Pistols’ANARCHY IN THE UK, then anonymous yet profane version of THE NUN Story followed by the ever popular Businessmen in Space. They are so Devo.
Kim Davis shared the stage with her partner ripping off grafitti tee-shirt after tee shirt, who looking like the illegitimate Jewish son of General MacArthur, complete with sweep-over. Traci Sherman deep-throated fire, accompanied by scantily dressed go-go girls in punk leather. Some egomaniac declared himself THE CENTER OF THE UNIVERSE. I wanted to throw him off state and suggest so to Alice. Her girlfriend Susan sighed with man-hating ennui, so I shouted the Center of the Universe, “Fuck you.You suck. Someone should have killed with at birth.”
Susan gasped and I realized she was fucking this loser unbeknownst to her boyfriend, Tom, but then she’s not the only one who hates me. Donna Destri still holds a grudge as my fight with with Blondie and I say to John Kemp, “Fuck her. She has legs like horse and tits as flat as pancakes. Alice and Susan walked away from he and John said, “Don’t worry about them. All Susan thinks about if fucking Alice.”
“Thanks for the comforting works.”
In truth I was a little jealous, as the trio of Alice, Tom Scully and fucking Susan have successful introduced vaudeville to the East Village and the modern world . They are stars, but I never wanted to be them and in truth I’m happy not to be them either. I remain faithfully no one.
