Pretending to be cool and hip and urban while I'm living in my parents basement in the suburbs, poetry, music, partying, going to shows, especially poetry shows, because poets are sexxy, hosting, performing, cooking, reading, writing, travel, vandalizing expensive cars...
That guy who works the crane. What's it like up there in the sky?
Death From Above, The Stooges, The Yard Birds, The Ya Ya Ya's, The Dandy Warhols, NY Dolls, The Ramones, The Kinks, CSS, The Who, Stiff Little Fingers, Ladytron, Joy Division, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, The Who and anything pretty much
The Science of Sleep, Big Fish, Edward Scissor Hands, Kung Fu Hustle, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Adaptation, Being John Malcavich, and, of course, Conan the Barbarian
I'll be straight to the point and say all TV sucks, even though I watch it everyday for some ungodly reason. Ok, maybe the new Dr. Who and Kenny vs. Spenny, but that's pretty much it. And maybe What Not to Wear. That's it.
Frank Herbert, Kurt Vonnegut, Bukowski, Al Purdy, Ivan E. Coyote, Pablo Neruda, Woody Allen, "The Dancing Wu Li Masters" by Gary Zudav, "The Secret Life of Plants" by Peter Tomkins, Eugen Ionescu, Samuel Beckett
There are all these people who actually smile in this fucked up world and I don't even know their names. One was on a stage reading her poetry for her first time. One was going to work at the Seven Eleven for the twelve-hundredth time, and he didn't complain. Another I saw walking out of a ward.