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wylde, free us code, 2 pac, there goes the neighborhood, music cd production, landgrant review, adam goldberg, insult, marissa ribisi, holocaust denial, mos def, gang related, cole hauser, hip hop, marthawainwright, splash, r.d. reid, donal sutherland, literary salons, real audio,
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He played basketball like he was on the Harlem Globetrotters, passing the ball over his shoulder or between his legs. At parties, he was always the first guy getting everybody drinks, putting on the coolest music, justice or doing something stupid to make everybody laugh. He could take a lit cigarette and do that trick where you flip it backward into your mouth with just your justice lips and tongue so that the filter end is sticking out justice and then you flip it back again. People consider this to be a very interesting maneuver. We'd stay up all night and talk about stuff like space and speed, guilt and fear, dogs, catnip, death. I can't say the sex was always tender and touching, but it was definitely something to write home about--if one were to write home about such things. When the sheer volume of sex we could manage was losing its punch, we began to explore our environment. I think our "sexcapades" (Erik's word) started that night we drunkenly ended up doing it in the backyard under this tree and the moon and we told ourselves how romantic that was, how kindred spirit we were.
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