117 studs

Rock, man, you find your look and die in it…here I am, forever rock chickening across the road, which is my kitchen after a hellish attempt to drive around a few places for the latter part of this afternoon.  On our way to a parteee on the eastside for a baby Shoooomer who’s reached adulthood, supposedly, partying like it’s 1989…but just back from a few hours reacquainting with one of the first people I ever interviewed, when I was a teenager, for Loaded (before it turned into lame porn, it had intentions to change the face of journalism in a gonzo-styleeeee).  Got a project he’s helping me on.  So happy about that.   Boots, a gift from the generous Kelli Ali, she picked them up in San Francisco.  Jeans, always the same, McQueen.  Shirt, Antiq Batiq, Kelli gave me this too, from LA.  Jacket, McQueen.

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