Quote:

this photo pretty much reduced me to a caveman. I started hearing monkeys somewhere far away and then abruptly screamed while unsuccessfully fucking my desk lamp.



Monstar must have met her when she was trying out for a bit part on 'Friends' by the looks of that photograph. As a complete outsider, it seems to me that everything that transpires in the City of Dreams has tendrils siphoning from it that are extruded by pornography. In 'Mulholland Dr.' David Lynch suggested that a homeless person that lived in a dumpster alcove behind a Bob's Big Boy was somehow profoundly connected to what happened at studio conferences, auditions, seedy rambling bungalow complexes, and monstrous Hockney hideaways in the hills above the mess. I can see his point.


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Quah.