All Tomorrow's Parties

I'm stoned again. I just got back from hanging out with Fern and Kat and their kids. They invited me to go on tour with them to Miami next week. That should be fun. I'm going to film them. They're in this pretty badass punk band with Spanish lyrics. Even made their own tapes and merch.

So I'm listening to Velvet Underground, obviously. The song that just played reminded me of how much of a douche I am because my friend Jonathan Caouette, who directed a film called All Tomorrow's Parties, asked me to do some work for him for a tribute to Lou Reed he's showing at the Paris Philharmonic--and I totally flaked. And I didn't tell him... I just blocked his e-mail and ignored all his calls. He even had his manager or producer or some shit call me and leave me messages. I am such a dick. I was super crazy then, though. I should pretend like I'm doing the A.A. steps so I can get to the one where I make amends.

I would've loved to have hung out with that group back in the day. I did go to a party once with the remaining Warhol Superstars. I talked to Mary Waronov all night, mostly. It was the birthday party for my friend Robert, who is Holly Woodlawn's (RIP) bff and archivist. There was a super cute journalist there, too, but I forgot his name.

I'm seriously missing my desert family right now. It's been nice spending some time with my kin, though. It's just that almost everyone I know here is strung the fuck out on meth and annoying. But I still love them.

Anyway, both Sunny and Russell--who don't know each other--have told me that I should cover Hank Williams Sr.'s Rambling Man, so I think I'm gonna go do that now.

Peace