Fred called and said I had to pick up Lynn Wyatt, that the limo would be at my house at 8:00. The Saturday newspapers were great. There was the bathtub murders, the guy says he kills things and doesn't remember--things like his wife and daughter--and that it used to happen to him with animals, too, that she'd wake up and look around and they'd be dead. And the full Barry Landau story, how he's Miz Lillian's best friend and he's going down to Washington to testify again.
Left the office at twenty to 8:00 and when I got uptown the limo was already waiting there (cab $5.50). So I went in an glued and Lynn Wyatt called and said that Jerry Zipkin was having cocktails first, at 95th and Park, and I told her it was Harlem. But we went up there.
Then we went to the St. Regis where Francois de Menil was having his thirty-first birthday party bash and we went up to the roof. Francois had his new girlfriend from Texas there. And some of his old girlfriends, too. Lynn wanted to be at the table with Diana Vreeland and Fred. And Francois's older brother, George, who keeps a low profile.
Bob Wilson was there, he's dating the Schlumberger girl from Washington, Katy Jones. Little Nell was there, the English dancer. Aileen Mehle was there. It was an okay party. There was no big movie star or rock star there, it was just in a funny way all his friends.
Lynn couldn't come down to 860 to see her portrait, she was going to Paris the next day.
Warhol, A. (1989). The Andy Warhol Diaries (P. Hackett, Ed.). Pg. 282-283. New York: Warner Books.
Showing posts with label Barry Landau. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Barry Landau. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 11, 1977
Cabbed up to Parke Bernet, got a few catalogues because they seem to be the best reference books (cab $2, books $24). Ran into Kenny Jay Lane who's put his whole house and furnishings up for auction -- now that he's getting divorced from Nicky Weymouth he can present it as something he's doing "for the settlement." Whey you see all his junk together, it really looks bad.
Went to Chembank ($4). Steve Aronson was at 860 looking around, he had a beautiful girl with him. He says he can't start editing Popism until next week. Vincent was off in Montauk, checking on the place -- Jay Johnson and Tom Cashin are still out there roofing and repairing. By closing time Vincent still wasn't back, so I locked the place up myself. And when it's my responsibility, I get so nervous I do things like pull out the plugs to the Xerox machines so they won't start a spontaneous combustion; I decided I would risk leaving the refrigerator on. When I got home there was a message from Barry Landau, somehow he'd gotten my number. So now the three worst people to have your unlisted number have mine -- Bob Weiner, Steve Rubell, and Barry Landau.
Lester Persky Called and invited me to a screening of Equis. I loved Peter Firth, he was wonderful and Richard Burton was wonderful. The movie has the longest nudity. Usually when they photograph a cock they make it fall in the shadows and the shadows always fall where the cock is. But in this movie the cock always falls right where you can see it. Peter Firth's dick gets in the way when he moves. It's the biggest cock on screen and not circumcised. As big as Joe Dallesandro's.
Peter Firth came over to me, he'd imported a girl from England for all the publicity and she was there and we had a good time. There was lots of food, but I'd already eaten. Then Peter Firth wanted to take the girl dancing so we walked over to Studio 54 for the Elton John thing. Stevie invited us all up to the booth where Michael Jackson was and Michael was sweet -- in his high voice he asked me about art. David Hockney was there. The photographers were there and wanted Elton John and me to pose for pictures together so I asked Elton if I could kiss him, but he didn't answer me so I didn't. Maybe he didn't hear me. He was wearing a hat because of his hair transplant.
In order to get out of Studio 54 alone, I had to avoid all the boys I've been accepting rides and dates from lately. I had to look nervous and run around so no one would follow me -- you know, the "frantic" technique.
Warhol, A. (1989). The Andy Warhol Diaries (P. Hackett, Ed.). Pg. 80-81. New York: Warner Books.
Went to Chembank ($4). Steve Aronson was at 860 looking around, he had a beautiful girl with him. He says he can't start editing Popism until next week. Vincent was off in Montauk, checking on the place -- Jay Johnson and Tom Cashin are still out there roofing and repairing. By closing time Vincent still wasn't back, so I locked the place up myself. And when it's my responsibility, I get so nervous I do things like pull out the plugs to the Xerox machines so they won't start a spontaneous combustion; I decided I would risk leaving the refrigerator on. When I got home there was a message from Barry Landau, somehow he'd gotten my number. So now the three worst people to have your unlisted number have mine -- Bob Weiner, Steve Rubell, and Barry Landau.
Lester Persky Called and invited me to a screening of Equis. I loved Peter Firth, he was wonderful and Richard Burton was wonderful. The movie has the longest nudity. Usually when they photograph a cock they make it fall in the shadows and the shadows always fall where the cock is. But in this movie the cock always falls right where you can see it. Peter Firth's dick gets in the way when he moves. It's the biggest cock on screen and not circumcised. As big as Joe Dallesandro's.
Peter Firth came over to me, he'd imported a girl from England for all the publicity and she was there and we had a good time. There was lots of food, but I'd already eaten. Then Peter Firth wanted to take the girl dancing so we walked over to Studio 54 for the Elton John thing. Stevie invited us all up to the booth where Michael Jackson was and Michael was sweet -- in his high voice he asked me about art. David Hockney was there. The photographers were there and wanted Elton John and me to pose for pictures together so I asked Elton if I could kiss him, but he didn't answer me so I didn't. Maybe he didn't hear me. He was wearing a hat because of his hair transplant.
In order to get out of Studio 54 alone, I had to avoid all the boys I've been accepting rides and dates from lately. I had to look nervous and run around so no one would follow me -- you know, the "frantic" technique.
Warhol, A. (1989). The Andy Warhol Diaries (P. Hackett, Ed.). Pg. 80-81. New York: Warner Books.
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