What Do You Think of Max Grundy?

Max Grundy

Last night, I was feeling like I needed some “Me Time”.

When male talent’s on set, “Me Time” means leaving him alone with the porn whore he’s working with in order to get some wood.

When I need “Me Time”, I just need to chill. By myself.

I love my neighborhood. I really do. I can walk to a strip joint, a whole bunch of bars, my favorite art gallery, a huge thrift store, my favorite bookstore, the very best coffee shop in LA, and some of my very favorite restaurants.

And since no one walks in LA, this means more than you think it does. Nothing is within walking distance in this city, so to have all this cool shit so close to my crib makes my neighborhood almost as good as eating pussy.

My crib…is a very very very fine crib.

Walkin’ in LA! Walkin’ in LA! Noboby walks in LA!

(Right now, as I bang this out, OJ’s about to get fucked up. Goes to show ya it really is hard to get away with murder, huh?)

Me Time usually means Spend Money Time, so — just cause I’m sure you’re very curious — here’s what I spent my hard-earned, dirty smut money on last night…and what I almost spent my money on: 4 books, 3 fish tacos, one Max Grundy painting, and a raspberry crumb cake.

The four books, in no particular order: 2666 by Roberto BolaƱo, Julian Barnes’s Nothing To Be Frightened Of, Zombie Movies: The Ultimate Guide, and The Album Art of Hipgnosis.

2666 cause everyone’s gushing that it’s a masterpiece, Nothing To Be Frightened Of cause lately I’m obsessed with death; Zombie Movies cause I wanna make one; and it appears the dudes at Hipgnosis designed the cover of just about every record I listened to from, say, 1978 to 1982.

My three fish tacos were dressed nicely with guacamole, sour cream, and pico de gallo.

Should I pull the trigger on a Max Grundy? I find his work oddly compelling. My brother called Basophobia (Fear of Falling) “scary”. It’s one of three I was thinking about, and I liked his take on it. But my brother also thinks Grundy is a Shepard Fairey rip-off, so I dunno. I kinda see what he’s talking about. Anyways, I told the gallery I’ll be back tonight for the opening, and then I’ll make my final decision. And eat some cheese n’ crackers and drink some cheap wine.

Oh, and right before I go to bed, I take a lil’ nite-nite medicine, and I eat a treat, and I listen to what Rachel Maddow has to say, and I wonder if she likes eating pussy as much as I do, and then I go nite-nite; hence, the raspberry crumb cake…but only cause they were sold out of chocolate chip muffins.

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