reading "a book" by desi arnez changed my life. that, and the sex change operation i had around the same time. desi was indeed the man who loved lucy. unfortunately, he also loved hundreds of other women, including juicy lucy, the second cut on the a side of a horace silver record. that's gold jerry, gold! desi also used to go to the horace races and bet a lot of silver on the outcomes. alas, desi was a man...uncle thomas mann. isiah alot of things about him, but once i got knicked up for talking shit about him, so lately, i have kept quiet. but, i am running out of space to keep quiet, as my closets are currently filled up with clothes. "a book" was filled with pages. and words also. i particularly enjoyed the way desi employed periods, usually at the end of sentences.
desi surprisingly unveiled his mad affair with vivian vance. vance, it seems, was an oral sex artist, having studied in spain with the great picasso. vance was ad-vanced in the field of sex. she once attempted to have a ball with lucy and desi together, but lucy was not interested in a three way, as she was still making payments on her regular phone. lucy was not surprised to hear about the relationship, for she already knew that desi had fondled their pet goat behind a bush, the same goat that bush read about as the planes flew into the towers.
desi than went on and on about the whole camera thing, about how he was lucy's biggest fan, how he made sure they performed in front of a live audience, blah blah blah. he spoke less about how all the funny scenes always seemed to have lucy in them. desi claimed to enjoy sanford and son, but sanford denied any relations with the older desi. sanford referred to desi as a "redd," perhaps alluding to his cuban heritage, and said "he was a sly stone, slick as a rick foxx." desi, for his part, made many demond's on his lovers, of which he swears both wilson and foxx were.
desi was also quite the drinker, hi c mainly, although his two octave range covered many other notes as well, all of them difficult to listen to. desi insisted on singing on the show, perhaps to sabotage the ratings. whatever the case, desi remains a vital figure in american life, up there with malcolm x and emma goldman. he will always be remembered for something he did with a camera, and with his rapidly diminishing physical appearance. toward the end of his life, he expressed regret that "he had not cheated more," especially during a statistics final in undergrad, where arnez settled for a c. he claimed that if he had to do it all over again, he would have used even more cameras. desi didn't die. his work lives on in all of us, regardless of how much we may attempt to wish it away. his spirit remains.
he left us a book. literally. believe me, you will have a gaye old time with it, if you have the flintstones to read it.
other books i recommend.
henry the 7th: the forgotten henry.
if marlowe wrote shakespeare's plays, who wrote marlowe's?
where have all the telephone booths gone?
master bates: a tail of an ass
woodstock and other bullshit
how the white man ruined everything: a pictorial history.
1 comment:
the only thing "red" about lucy is her pubic hair. yes chairman, the rug matches the curtains. there is no communist conspiracy here. sex workers of the world unite, you have nothing to lose except your whips and chains. dumb joke, i know . . . for the record, i'm not against S&M. ESL baby, ESL.
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