Selected dreams of movie stars, 1978-1998,
Sophia Loren and I watched her latest movie at an Upper East Side theater.
Sophia Loren came over to my house for supper. I asked her what she was working on. She wouldn't say, although I begged.
Julie Andrews worked as a lounge singer.
Julie Andrews was exhausted.
I telephoned Peggy Wood (who played the Mother Abbess in The Sound of Music) to ask for advice on how to sing "Some Enchanted Evening". Peggy, jealous, offered no encouragement.
I packed Elizabeth Taylor's bag, including a nightgown with a cappuccino stain on it.
Liz was incognito: her roomate didn't know Liz was Liz.
I met Liz at Jackie Onassis's country house. I nearly told Liz that I'd just seen The Only game Town, but I didn't want to be gauche.
A midget rode on Liz Taylor's handlebars, while Sophia Loren sat atop a geometric sculpture that resembled her figure but was vastly inferior, and Lyle Lovett, in the background, posed as a supermodel.
Liza Minnelli tap-danced on a Flatiron District sidewalk.
Barbara Streisand played an athlete in a movie; later, I auditioned for a part in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, it's script covered in sauerkraut.
I led Bette Davis back from the dead. We sat on the beach. She wore asylum clothing: white tennies.
Charlie Chaplin sat near me in a fancy uptown Manhattan restaurant.
Jean-Paul Blemondo spent the night at my house. He was distraught about Brigitte Bardot. I couldn't help him.
Alec Baldwin had plastic surgery so that the narcotics police wouldn't recognize him.
A hot date told him she preferred the old face; she took a blowtorch to the fake layer and melted it.
I played the part of Orestes in a photo-montage version of Oscar wilde's Salome.
Wayne Koestenbaum
Sophia Loren came over to my house for supper. I asked her what she was working on. She wouldn't say, although I begged.
Julie Andrews worked as a lounge singer.
Julie Andrews was exhausted.
I telephoned Peggy Wood (who played the Mother Abbess in The Sound of Music) to ask for advice on how to sing "Some Enchanted Evening". Peggy, jealous, offered no encouragement.
I packed Elizabeth Taylor's bag, including a nightgown with a cappuccino stain on it.
Liz was incognito: her roomate didn't know Liz was Liz.
I met Liz at Jackie Onassis's country house. I nearly told Liz that I'd just seen The Only game Town, but I didn't want to be gauche.
A midget rode on Liz Taylor's handlebars, while Sophia Loren sat atop a geometric sculpture that resembled her figure but was vastly inferior, and Lyle Lovett, in the background, posed as a supermodel.
Liza Minnelli tap-danced on a Flatiron District sidewalk.
Barbara Streisand played an athlete in a movie; later, I auditioned for a part in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, it's script covered in sauerkraut.
I led Bette Davis back from the dead. We sat on the beach. She wore asylum clothing: white tennies.
Charlie Chaplin sat near me in a fancy uptown Manhattan restaurant.
Jean-Paul Blemondo spent the night at my house. He was distraught about Brigitte Bardot. I couldn't help him.
Alec Baldwin had plastic surgery so that the narcotics police wouldn't recognize him.
A hot date told him she preferred the old face; she took a blowtorch to the fake layer and melted it.
I played the part of Orestes in a photo-montage version of Oscar wilde's Salome.
Wayne Koestenbaum