Chelsea

entrepeneur/raconteur

old rusty scooters, old dusty records, old musty comics, old crusty movies. oh, and scooterbbs.

hemingway, vonnegut, michelle tea, delillo, I forgot how to read not too long ago so this question is hard.

Hud, Alfie, What's New Pussycat, Citizen Kane, Adaptation, Blow Up, Camille 2000, Danger Diabolik, Two Lane Blacktop, 24 hr Party People, spaghetti westerns, probably one or two others.

magazine, syd barrett, robert wyatt, dexy's, psychedelic bands from all 4 corners, mercury rev, martin gaye and the like, the dead c, the fall, the chills, jandek, old italian soundtracks, fela kuti, the first pretenders record.

terrible real world/dating shows chosen for their vapid 20 somethings and flashy editing. I stare at TV but I don't embrace it.

I like meat and alcohol and substances. Straightedge boys
remember too much and vegans confound my gastroentestinal
sensibilites. I sleep in a marshmallow. I dig noise. I
jump at the chance. I am a grimy gearhead. My car collects
everything I own. I go thru shoes as if they were made of
paper and my socks rarely match. I often have Lovecraftian
dreams which always end in my cat running away. I have no
clue nor desire to learn what they mean except that I like
my cat. My handwriting is perfectly illegible to any other
than myself. I have issues but I can identify all of them
well in advance. My backpack could survive a minor
explosion. I fought an SUV and I won. I understand
carburetors. I make out in bars while slightly/very
inebriated and the whole world falls away.

alpha males with manners, spitfire, and dangerously quick
wit. women with a clue, responsible for their own fates yet
aware of the twists and turns imposed by The World.