Angela (3/25/95)
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In re the Band of Gypsies, it’s difficult to think of any band which included Buddy Miles as having been solid. Though certainly corpulent. — Of course, they did cut “Machine Gun”.
Umberto and I await your memoirs of the Brazilian/Italian babe.
As for Miss Wonderbra: rest assured you’ll have first option on the expose, whether fact or fiction. Suffice it for the moment that it’s difficult to keep a straight face when you’re lecturing a babe of these dimensions on the taxonomy of curves: just where they swell, and where subside; just where convex, and where concave. Again, it didn’t seem impossible that I might swoon, should she stretch at an inappropriate moment. But the Shade of Leibniz stood by me in my hour of need: I steered an even course between the Scylla of dementia and the Charybdis of hypoxia, and brought my bark home safe to the farther shore. Where let me lie face down in the sand for a day or two while I attempt to recover my composure. Holy shit.
Chocolates might not be a bad idea. A bit like Gump, I suppose; but, then, I feel like an idiot. Let’s see if she calls me back.
Later.
____________Maxima and minima (3/19/95)
