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Black Jacket, Coolshades |
I get along well with women. Sometimes they seek me out. Married, single. We have fun.
They also like it that my shows get good talk and that people want to know about the next one. And they like the smell of the chemicals in the darkroom, and the strange red glow. So do I.
I love women too. It's a mutual thing. I prefer their company to men. Anytime -- morning, afternoon, night-time.
I play myself down and I don't talk too much. I lay back, but I'm thinking and framing.
One of my unanswered questions is, am I just a dog for attractive women, or what? I know that if a woman and I are really having fun, I don't want to stop.
I don't neglect or abuse my body, either. I run in the park and I work out.
And I don't have any of Roxanne's bad habits. Beer only, and a little wine sometimes.
I have a plan for Johnny. I have friends who think I shold wreck his place some night. One of them is from the gym.
It's a crazy idea, but I like it. They all thought it was funny about how I got dazed by one punch from Johnny. They're having fun with this.
We have to do it. I agree. It'll put things back in focus, back in perspective. I'm ready. I want to do it tonight, and we're working on a plan -- it begins with me calling Johnny off his stool at the bar.
My boys will stay back in the shadows and strike only if necessary. I have no idea about Johnnyboy's back-up, but four of us can handle whatever it turns out to be.
Maybe my first move will be to take him down onto the floor with a body slam. Then stomp him and work him over. He won't know what hit him when he's jerked down from his swivel seat. Dressed up. I'll be wearing sweats and steel-toed boots.
I want Roxanne to see this.
I'd like to shoot it all, in black and white, but I'm the actor, I'm the principal. I could put together a show from these photos. "Artist and Lounge King" would be the name of the show. Fuck Johnny.
