I felt guilty initially over today's picture choices, but I've been racing ahead since. I saw the announcement for their movies being shown in the times; I've been waiting to see those movies of andy's for years and, never happens. I'm not in new york; also tried thinking about any possible political innuendos so...voila. Since then, a bunch WALDO SMITH NEGATED writing and I was looking for information on book on demand and just realised, sitting the window sill, the novel my Michale Dean, which isn't that bad, and looked him up again on the web here:
actually bought his novel and thought it was ok:
http://www.kittyfeet.com/
and...hmm..some other .com, but, I plan on bookondemanding my silly novella when finished so his link lulu.com seemed useful..order...1 book...my kind of deal.
WALDO SMITH NEGATED PART 17
17 There was sort of this shrug from Wayne as they left. It was true. I found myself staring down the bar, all the old wood filthy with chisel marks, initials and silver magic marker tags, frayed bumper stickers from one band or another. Babet was staring at me with that smile of hers, like a skeleton smiling. "I got my bike, I can't drink too much." It was dark old bar, only repainted when we wanted to do a show and have it look decent, then it would be all white for a while but the cigarette smoke discolored it that quickly to brown again; regularly holes in the sheet rock. It was a miracle they didn't serve absinthe. Babet shook her head some more while Wayne started creeping over, like he had to stop every few steps. "Man, check it out.."
actually bought his novel and thought it was ok:
http://www.kittyfeet.com/
and...hmm..some other .com, but, I plan on bookondemanding my silly novella when finished so his link lulu.com seemed useful..order...1 book...my kind of deal.
WALDO SMITH NEGATED PART 17
17 There was sort of this shrug from Wayne as they left. It was true. I found myself staring down the bar, all the old wood filthy with chisel marks, initials and silver magic marker tags, frayed bumper stickers from one band or another. Babet was staring at me with that smile of hers, like a skeleton smiling. "I got my bike, I can't drink too much." It was dark old bar, only repainted when we wanted to do a show and have it look decent, then it would be all white for a while but the cigarette smoke discolored it that quickly to brown again; regularly holes in the sheet rock. It was a miracle they didn't serve absinthe. Babet shook her head some more while Wayne started creeping over, like he had to stop every few steps. "Man, check it out.."
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