Augusten is Back

From his Tour

 

Burroughs and dogs at home in Amherst

Amherst's literary homeboy Augusten "Running With Scissors" Burroughs is back in town from his national lecture tour. On his blog he tells how his first night back Burrough's dog did #2 in his bed - with Burroughs going to sleep without knowing it - and with predictably yucky results:

So yeah, home. The first night back, Bentley had a night-poo on the bed, which we of course did not see. Pity us restless sleepers. I will let your imagination fill in the sordid details. Take comfort knowing your imagination is dead right.

When not rolling in dogshit, the world famous literati has been drooling over wedding cakes, in particular this one: 

I love the wedding cake above because, imagine bending over and opening your mouth right on the edge, on top of a clump of white frosting roses

Does this fascination with wedding cakes mean that Augusten and his longtime boyfriend Dennis have a forthcoming announcement to make? Always the contrarian, Burroughs defends sugar from modern society's attacks:

Our society's vigorous anti-sugar mentality, which is primitive and incorrect, only serves to incite prejudice and fear. If we must hate something, let's agree to hate yeast. Or ham.

When not salivating over cakes, Augusten and Dennis are trying to score a dinner date with national media personality (and former Pioneer Valley radio star) Rachel Maddow. So far it isn't going well:

Rachel Maddow and Bill Dwight

So four weeks ago, Dennis -who won't even let me use my name when making a restaurant reservation because he thinks it's pretentious and loathsome- made a special trip downstairs to my office and said, “You need to invite Rachel Maddow over for dinner.” He suggested I contact her “people.”

I just looked up at him and blinked.

And he asks me now each week, “So, how's that letter coming?” Meaning, my letter to Rachel Maddow inviting her to dinner.

I tell him, “I'm working on it, I haven't forgotten.” What I have not confessed is that each version of the letter begins like this:

“Dear Rachel, I know this is kind of creepy and stalkerish but I think we both live in the same general area of Massachusetts and...” So it's the “I'm your neighbor not your stalker!” approach. I just can't figure out the segue from “We're your neighbors” to “come over for dinner with your girlfriend.” No matter how I phrase it, it comes out sounding odious. Like I want to know her because she's famous or I want to be on her show.

Remembrance

These flags appeared outside the Student Union today, each one representing 5,000 deaths in the Nazi Holocaust.

I think there should be a similar display commemorating those who died in the Socialist Holocaust. There would be at least ten times as many flags required.

Old Shirt

Here's an official UMass shirt from 1992. (courtesy of Andrea Murray)

 



New Pizza Joint

Hillside Organic Pizza has opened on Route Nine!

 

I predict it will be a big success.

Today's Video
 

One of Garcia's best later songs.

 

There were days
and there were days
and there were days between
Summer flies and August dies
the world grows dark and mean
Comes the lighting of the moon
on black infested trees
the singing man is at his song
the holy on their knees
the reckless are out wrecking
the timid plead their pleas
No one knows much more of this
than anyone can see
anyone can see

There were days
and there were days
and there were days besides
when phantom ships with phantom sails
set to sea on phantom tides
Comes the lightning of the sun
on bright unfocused eyes
the blue of yet another day
a springtime wet with sighs
a lonesome candle lingers
in the land of lullabies
where headless horsemen vanish
with wild and lonely cries
lonely cries

There were days
and there were days
and there were days I know
when all we ever wanted
was to learn and love and grow
Once we grew into our shoes
we told them where to go
walked halfway around the world
on promise of the glow
stood upon a mountain top
walked barefoot in the snow
gave the best we had to give
how much we'll never know
we'll never know

There were days
and there were days
and there were days between
polished like a golden bowl
the finest ever seen
Hearts of Summer held in trust
still tender, young and green
left on shelves collecting dust
not knowing what they mean
valentines of flesh and blood
as soft as velveteen
hoping love would not forsake
the days that lie between
lie between