Meanwhile...

My collection of Cosby sweaters grows and grows:



That's right. While you chumps have been sleeping, I've been balling like there's no believing. Homecoming 2007, y'all! Live the dream. Crank up the stereo, throw on some Journey, crack a brewski, sit back and let the memories flood in. As often as not date rape features heavily in said mem'ries, but hey- ya can't win 'em all. Go Wildcats!



Oooh, speaking of wildcats, this little number has been lurking in the back of my closet like a jungle cat ready to pounce. I bagged this sweetass Cosby back in '87 on safari in Akron. It's Ohio, people, wild splendor abounds.



This is back in my party days, the real genesis of the Cosby Collection. I don't remember much, but finding a photo of myself with the head of a dolphin doesn't come as much of shock. I was on a slippery slope, folks. The booze was cheap and there was plenty of it. Combine that with a healthy sense of adventure and a group of young troubadors with very loose morals and a penchant for psychedelic drugs and the rest is, as we say, history... I am certain if I remembered half of what I got up to in those bygone days I would most likely tear out my own eyes! Ha! All's well that ends well! Cheers!



As you may guess, I have never been shy of experimentation, both when it comes to sweaters and the deep, unknown abyss of homemade drugs- in this case the Acid Perch. All I can say is: what a fucking high. I was gone for days and as I recall (it's hazy) spent most of my time gazing down on the world from a GREAT height, much like Gheorghe Muresan looking down at wee Billy Crystal in 'My Giant,' which is basically the film equivalent of the Acid Perch, ifffyouknowhaammmsayin.



My Giant. It actually happened, didn't it? I forget sometimes because IT MAKES MY BRAIN BLEED when I think about it... as do most things related to Billy Crystal: his tiny mouth, his twinkly eyes, his soft, childlike hands, his voice which never fails to remind me of an old man in a deli eating egg salad, the yolk crumbling and falling out of his mouth... my throat is closing up, I cannot breathe.

That said, can't fucking WAIT for Halloween next year:



Yes, the wheezing, cackling, bearded-with-a-pubic-wig face of Crystal and the leather saddle that is Jack Palance- all dolled up in tuxedos like tiny widdle penguins! It makes my heart leap with joy while at the same time my intestines quake with dread. Pleasure and pain people- what better sums up Crystal and Palance? Ps: How dirty is this movie title:

City Slickers 2: The Legend of Curly's Gold.

For REAL.