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lloyd_arcesia

Eating peanut butter on moon with Hasil Adkins

Member Since 2004

Followers 13 Following 130

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Monday Sep 12, 2005

Sep 11, 2005
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Shit I was a grumpy pissy cunt most of last week. I feel sorry for my band, but they take it in stride. I put up with them they are mean drunks. When they need their girl friend 86'd I send them to the door so all is forgiven. But thinking of pissy cunts, I ran into my favorite pissy cunt of all time. Pig fucker, LA art dealer, fag hag pimp, Cecil. We had a falling out when I quit drinking, he truly loved how much shit I could start in one evening. I loved exploiting his lust for me into free drinks. I new if he ever had me, he would lose interest and I'd lose my free drink ticket.(Its easy to avoid someone's advances if you don't swing there way.) But when the party was over dawn creeps in like crabs on your balls- head flaming- red beer bloodly Mary hair off the dog- puke ever where, knuckles sore the music is over, that's when we really became friends. I never ever was been bored around him, we'd always have cool stuff to talk about, from history to art to basic gun care, we bonded over so much shit. We were both raised in working class hoods but went to upper middle class schools. He was raised as hick in Mississippi, well I'm a hick and just am not ashamed of it. I really admired him, he lost everything he had when he had came out to his family, but he was strong enough to make it with nothing, in to one toughest art communities in the world. When most arty farty types were sleeping in wasting their government grants, or talking shit at lunch on some else's dime, Cecil was hustling on the phone, calling all over the world having shit happen. I have never seen anyone who could make shit happen and knew logistics like him. He was a marvel to watch work. He never kissed government ass, not enough money in and to many rules he'd say. Kept me drunk when my heart was broken. He stored my paintings when I was homeless, offered me a place to stay too, but I hated most of his boyfriends so I never did. He never freaked when I acted like an Archie Bunker (he could take a joke), and always stood up for me when anal humorless politicly correct bores, decided to bother me. Crazy nights with cabs and all the fucking Scotch I could drink. When his fag hags were getting on his nerves he'd send them to me and I'd play the slut boy toy. His lengendary temper tantrums were great performance art. Over the top Lucille Ball meets the Manson family creep fests. I got such a good drunken laugh watching his fag hags try to save him. But when I went to rehab I told no one. I disappeared off the face of the earth. I guess when he was driving through Golden he spotted my van folded in half. He waited, waited, and waited for my call, and assumed the worst. I've been told he went into mourning.(Not by him) 9 months after getting 86'd from rehab I called him. He was in state of shock. He thought I was dead. A mutual friend named Alex picked me up and drove me to Boulder. I don't remember the next days after that. It was a drunken blur from hell. I never called him again. I know totally trashed a lot of shit. I hadn't talked to him in a for close to 2 years. Well, to keep a long journal from getting longer, on Saturday I ended up at an after party, I went that party died I was invited to another. I saw Cecil across the room. When I saw him I turned a hid. I was not sure what to do. I was bashed the shit out of from the Lyin Bitch and the Restraining Orders show, hell the Crotch in my jeans was ripped out, my lucky snake skin thong keeping me legal, my arm less western shirt tattered to pieces from violent slam dancing, there was no way to blend in, cause this was fruit basket of over groomed flaming dudes. I was scared shitless. He is bitter guy. I was preparing mentally to fight or run away from the Huge Leather Bear types working the door. Thought to myself then fuck it, your not a coward. I summoned and all my courage and decided to confront him. I stood up looked him in the eye. He looked away. I continued walking, looking straight at him. Then he looked back at me. I smiled at him. "Sorry honey, your a cute, but I'm spoken for." He said to me. I was taken back by this response. "Well, what do you want." He asked in his irritating effeminate voice. I realized he didn't recognize me at all. "Cecil is me Lloyd..." Next thing I know I'm cradling a weeping gay man, my arms. A tear or two left my eyes too. But what happened next is even more shocking. He tugged at me and told me I had to meet his boyfriend. Grabbing my arm we dashed up stairs, a door opened and a bald man head popped out a kissed Cecil. When the kiss was done I saw who the face was and couldn't believe my eyes. He was kissing Alex. Alex the punk rock, death metal loving skinhead Birmingham England. He was the last person I expected to see kissing Cecil. He and Cecil meet through me. He use to tell me he only liked Cecil for the Scotch. Alex was apprehensive at first when I first saw him. During that relapse I did a lot of things some funny, some scary. I guess I took a party out to the free way -- and had a mass Mooning (one of my favorite drunken past times, and got 2/3 of the party to join me). I broke alot of his shit, and the police still ask him questions about me. So naturally he was quite stand offish, and I don't know if he wanted to be out of closet with me. (I don't care) But 3 hours of bullshitting at Denny's later everything turned out just fine, between the three of us, sometime next week I'm being treated to steak by the cutest homo couple I know. If they can make it to fallen warehouse on Monday it would be great, but the boys have some Gallery work that day. Cecil leaves back for LA this weekend. I hope, it works out cause he is the funniest, sickest, southern John Waters meets General Patton, Velvet Mafia Don of the gay art world that I have ever meet. He one of the few flaming dudes know that can dress smart, but never maxs out his credit, and isn't swallow jerk who judge one by status symbols expects and everyone to be nice boulder types. He is close friend that I have missed a lot. Oh and LYIN BITCH AND THE RESTAINING ORDERS KICKED ASS THIS WEEKEND, If your in Denver don't miss them with Fang and Verbal Abuse at fallenwarehouse on Monday.
jonnytrrrash7:
whoa, what a great story!

Sep 12, 2005

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