The Boy Looked At Johnny
November 5, 2001. Mid-afternoon, ten minutes later.
Oh, my birthday...right...
It was just fine. I felt like shit, but how could I feel
too shitty when out to a steak dinner with Katie, Branum,
Joel and Matt?
Joel bought me a ticket to the Malkmus show, and Katie got
me a copy (first edition hardback, she pointed out)
of "David Boring," my Daniel Clowes. I read it all after
everyone left, and it was excellent, nice balance between
the total weirdness of "Like A Velvet Glove" and the
ultrarealism of "Ghost World." Clowes is quickly becoming a
top cultural icon, soon to inhabit the same rarified space
as Lester Bangs, Lou Reed, Martin Scorsese and Wes Anderson.
Anyway, Katie wrapped the book in the LEO sex pages and
taped a copy of my birthday horoscope to the front: "lucky
in love this year."
That would be a welcome change indeed.