immediately after i took this (WITHOUT a flash) stephin merritt reprimanded the audience for "those fucking cameras with the fucking blinking lights" and banned all further photography. he was a sullen poop throughout the show. the female singer, whose name i don't recall, shared stories of the "women coked out of their minds who were making out and not gay" at their recent LA shows. "threesome" is my new happy song.
being there made me feel floaty. the room was hot and crowded with earnest couples languidly fondling each others napes. i got to watch. the magnetic fields are perfect music for a rainy summer afternoon spent having sex.
on a less-sexy note, the "blighted corridor", as the press is wont to coin it, of pike street. i took this last night. when this pawn shop was in business, 1998, i bought a television here. seriously.
this afternoon on westlake avenue:
and further down, in a secret alley:
some days are just composed of the right things at the right time.
No comments:
Post a Comment