I've got as much love in my heart as a thousand furry woodland babies. Two whole steps and one half step ago I had a love shaped hole in my heart; the type of hole that couldn't be filled with trifles and trinkets like gold, frankincense, and Jesus. Only love was able to fill the hole, the kind of love so thick and rich that a fork stands up in it, the Dennison's Chili or Campbell's Chunky of...
I was walking up Broadway this week, passing by the countless crappy sneaker outlets between Houston and Astor Place, and was stopped dead in my tracks by an old familiar face. Glaring from behind the glass was the black-eyed stare and mohican pate of the late Wendy Orlean Williams of The Plasmatics circa 1981. Her face was part of the design of a Plasmatics-themed handbag. At this risk of soun...
