(no subject)
Recently my boss requested that I make a reservation for a car to pick him up late in the evening at his West Village apartment and transport him to JFK for an 11:50 p.m. flight to Tel Aviv. I forgot to make the reservation. What followed will be forever stored in the "let us never speak of this again" vault.
Okay, that is my confession for the week.
On a brighter note, I got a chance to share a cup of hot tea with Mr. Lance Tooks the other morning. I awoke Friday morning with the haziest recollection of some late-night disturbance--the details of which were just beyond my grasp. My first clue in piecing together the events of the previous evening came when my husband shifted slightly in his sleep and in doing so emitted the telltale stench of a man who may as well have spent the previous evening swimming in a vat of corn whiskey. I gave him a kiss on the cheek, mercy for a man who was clearly about to have an exceptionally rough morning, and tiptoed out to the living room for further investigation. The coffee table was littered with several slender aluminum cans and a trail of cheetos lead to the extra bedroom. On closer inspection I learned that the cans came from a bar called Lava Gina, or La Vagina if you are clever, and as a mighty snore erupted from the darkness of the extra bedroom the final piece of the puzzle fell into place.
The night before I was awakened by the sounds of predawn merriment and found two very boisterous gentlemen in my living room who cheerfully regaled me with the merits of the national drink of Brazil and encouraged me to partake of an energy drink from La Vagina. It seems that my husband and Mr. Tooks, finding themselves the only attendees of a usually well attended gathering of New York City cartoonists at a lower east side Jewish deli, decided to skip the pastrami and knishes and "shake the pillars of Heaven" at nearby erurotrash club that was hosting a "Brazillain Night". The shaking of the pillars came to an abrupt end however when the national drink finally caught up with them and soon enough I was the only one awake at 3:00 in the a.m. No wonder the events had seemed hazy. Needless to say, the arrival of Mr. Tooks is always met by shouts of joy on my part, regardless of the circumstances, so I was more than happy to find him still there in the morning.
We talked for a couple hours and he showed me pictures from his recent courthouse marriage in Madrid and his honeymoon in Rome. And we talked a little about his new book, The Devil on Fever Street, which came out just this month and includes the print debut of my secret lover, Dr. Muerte. Always insightful and endlessly entertaining, Lance had plenty of great stories to tell. Sadly, he will be returning to Madrid very soon but hopefully Geoff and I will make it over there to visit him some time next year. (right...just like I plan to visit Jenny in Japan and Joe in London)
Oh, and it turns out that Lance actually knows Santiago Segura through another cartoonist and recently ran into him at a Ben and Jerry's in Spain. I would be surprised by this if Mr. Segura and I were not already on a cosmic collision course--I mean really, as things stand such coincidences are simply to be expected.
EDIT***
There is a an interesting interview with Lance HERE. He even mentions my friend Terradonna The Mercury Menace.
Okay, that is my confession for the week.
On a brighter note, I got a chance to share a cup of hot tea with Mr. Lance Tooks the other morning. I awoke Friday morning with the haziest recollection of some late-night disturbance--the details of which were just beyond my grasp. My first clue in piecing together the events of the previous evening came when my husband shifted slightly in his sleep and in doing so emitted the telltale stench of a man who may as well have spent the previous evening swimming in a vat of corn whiskey. I gave him a kiss on the cheek, mercy for a man who was clearly about to have an exceptionally rough morning, and tiptoed out to the living room for further investigation. The coffee table was littered with several slender aluminum cans and a trail of cheetos lead to the extra bedroom. On closer inspection I learned that the cans came from a bar called Lava Gina, or La Vagina if you are clever, and as a mighty snore erupted from the darkness of the extra bedroom the final piece of the puzzle fell into place.
The night before I was awakened by the sounds of predawn merriment and found two very boisterous gentlemen in my living room who cheerfully regaled me with the merits of the national drink of Brazil and encouraged me to partake of an energy drink from La Vagina. It seems that my husband and Mr. Tooks, finding themselves the only attendees of a usually well attended gathering of New York City cartoonists at a lower east side Jewish deli, decided to skip the pastrami and knishes and "shake the pillars of Heaven" at nearby erurotrash club that was hosting a "Brazillain Night". The shaking of the pillars came to an abrupt end however when the national drink finally caught up with them and soon enough I was the only one awake at 3:00 in the a.m. No wonder the events had seemed hazy. Needless to say, the arrival of Mr. Tooks is always met by shouts of joy on my part, regardless of the circumstances, so I was more than happy to find him still there in the morning.
We talked for a couple hours and he showed me pictures from his recent courthouse marriage in Madrid and his honeymoon in Rome. And we talked a little about his new book, The Devil on Fever Street, which came out just this month and includes the print debut of my secret lover, Dr. Muerte. Always insightful and endlessly entertaining, Lance had plenty of great stories to tell. Sadly, he will be returning to Madrid very soon but hopefully Geoff and I will make it over there to visit him some time next year. (right...just like I plan to visit Jenny in Japan and Joe in London)
Oh, and it turns out that Lance actually knows Santiago Segura through another cartoonist and recently ran into him at a Ben and Jerry's in Spain. I would be surprised by this if Mr. Segura and I were not already on a cosmic collision course--I mean really, as things stand such coincidences are simply to be expected.
EDIT***
There is a an interesting interview with Lance HERE. He even mentions my friend Terradonna The Mercury Menace.