THE BEAT GOES ON
HOLLYWOOD—I had just rolled back to my place from the Whiskey after having consumed ten Heinekens and 25 Snowshoes (made with Peppermint Schnapps) when I discovered that the club's bouncer had followed me home. I let him into my place. He was kind of a cute football-type, and the dumbest man I have ever met.
THE BEAT GOES ON
Two Pistols Shoot Off At The Mouth
HOLLYWOOD—I had just rolled back to my place from the Whiskey after having consumed ten Heine kens and 25 Snowshoes (made with Peppermint Schnapps) when I discovered that the club's bouncer had followed me home. I let him into my place. He was kind of a cute football-type, and the dumbest man I have ever met. Nonetheless, we were just getting into some roughand-tumble on the couch when some awful noises started coming from upstairs. I knew it wasn't the gay guys in 6-D, 'cause they only play Barry White. The noises kept getting louder and louder. "Geez," says the bouncer, "what's that horrible commotion? Who the fuck livesupstairs?" I knew if I allowed the bouncer to investigate, he'd beat the living shit out of the little turds listening to their Sex Pistols "Energy in the U.K." import 45.