The Chelsea Girl Episode One is now yours to enjoy on the laptop in front of you. Take a seat, dim the lights, attempt to stroke your roommates thigh, and enjoy! ; )

I’m throwing a party and you’re invited!

A Premier Party for The Chelsea Girl (1943) 

 A new web-series that nods to Old Hollywood

@ La Bottega in the Maritime Hotel (9th ave &16th St.)

February 12^th, 2012, 8-12pm, 8:30 Screening

Created by Lucia Brizzi, Directed by Dylan Pasture, Videographer: Benjamin Gooch, Editor: Samuel Bathrick, Sound: Katie Haller and James Martin

With: Lucia Brizzi, Adam La Faci, Jeff Solomon, Richard Alessa, Bobby Lamont, Gwenevere Sisco, Bradley Custer, & Craig Newman

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I’m boiling over with anticipation.

I’ve just been invited to cocktail party & screening of REVENGE ITALIANO at Rucola, Brooklyn (190 Dean Street @ Bond). Won’t you join me? 

Details: https://www.facebook.com/events/271884122860622/

Missing the ever attentive eye of the camera. But in my mind, there is a man with binoculars in every widow along 23rd St… A spectacular day! Dylan, my director had been out all night at a bring your own music mix party, so his directions were a bit sleepy. Ben, our videographer, had slept poorly as well because of anxieties about forgetting to bring wine to the shoot. He did forget. I shared the story of the famous film actress Olive Thomas who killed herself because she ran out of cocaine. Just for effect. Still no wine emerged. My beautiful scene partner, Adam La Faci, arrived and I robed him in a new costume find, the brand name being ‘man silk.’ Katie Haller provided sound with two injured knees. I did not damage them myself, though I do not approve of the physical health of other brunette comedic actresses. She listened attentively to the ongoing construction throughout the day. New York in 1943 is certainly up and coming. Rick Alessa delivered his fine Italian goods and then flew back to the home country. And Bobby Moreno broke my heart as my troubled, poetic, bisexual brother. My hair behaved.

And now, I say goodnight to my unknown, unnamed audience of on lookers. Dream of me tonight. Dream of a movie I’ve made where I do amazing things like ride a tiger into the Capitol Building and bed Theodore Roosevelt. 

A marvel idea! To purchase a small dog which I can indoctrinate into my life style. ‘I’ will become ‘we,’ with no boring compromising, changing, or questioning of ‘me’. How splendid to share every waking minute with the perfectly capitulating companion, dumbly donning whatever complementary accessory piece I desire. No need to quell the storm that is my emotional life. No need to stop talking endlessly about myself as I love to talk about myself endlessly. No need to feel that awful feeling that comes from wanting ressurance and love from a man just at arms reach… yet horribly horribly faraway. At last, the love I’ve dreamed of always! xx

Rat of the Century: John Powell, Newspaperman, runs a weekly column “The Problem with the Modern Woman.”

Why if I ever got my claws on his manhood I’d know where to stick it. 

If I were alive when this song came out I would wake up every morning singing it to the man I slept with by accident.