Iggy laying on the floor asking Clive Davis to piss on him.

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Peter O’Toole came into the back room one time and was just sitting there drinking and the usual crowd was there. Ingrid Superstar was doing some number and there was a photographer in the room taking pictures and the flash would go off. Peter O’Toole was getting visibly crazier and crazier and started to appear very irritated. Mickey walked into the back room and Peter O’Toole called Mickey over to his table. “Excuse me, but could you tell those photographers enough is enough. I am here privately and do not wish to be harassed.” Mickey said, “You’re here privately, what does that mean?” He said, “Those photographers, they keep taking pictures of me.” Mickey said, “They aren’t taking pictures of you, they’re taking pictures of Ingrid.” He said, “But I’m Peter O’Toole.” To which Mickey replied, “Oh, are you a painter?”

when he sang about oral sex, cops stopped the show

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“My mother told me that they thought he might have schizophrenia. He might sit with us, but he looked dead-eyed, non-communicative. One evening all of us were watching television. Out of nowhere, Lou began laughing maniacally. We all sat frozen in place. My parents did nothing, said nothing, and ignored it, as if it was not taking place.”
ECT was given as a treatment: twenty-four shocks over several weeks. He was strapped to a gurney. Muscle-relaxant drugs and anaesthetic were administered. A gag was placed in his mouth to stop him biting his tongue. Electrodes were then attached to the sides of his head, and an alternating current passed through his brain. The body went into seizure. Fists clenching, legs trying to kick, his whole body trembling briefly before going limp.
“I watched as my parents assisted him coming home afterwards, unable to walk. It damaged his short-term memory and throughout his life he struggled with memory retention. My father, controlling and rigid, was attempting to solve a situation that was beyond him. My mother was terrified and certain of her own guilt since they had told her this was due to poor mothering. My parents were caught in a bewildering web of guilt, fear and poor psychiatric care. They regretted it every day until the day they died.”

“I am for art that does something other than sit on its ass in a museum.”

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Conversation became less lucid as the partygoers surrendered to the beat of the loud music coming from the stereo. They danced the latest steps—the Twist, the Monkey, the Mashed Potato—and ones they made up on the spot. Things got a little out of hand when Patty twirled into an antique spool cabinet and sent an Ed Kienholz sculpture crashing to the floor. Taylor knew it was a good party when the guests had gotten so high they started crawling on the wooden floor, oblivious to the splinters, spilled drinks, and puddles of melted cheese spilling from the platters. Cecil Beaton heard through the grapevine that the evening turned into “a fantastic orgy with people making love on the revolving horses and being photographed for an advanced movie,” but that may have been a bit of an exaggeration. At some point, however, the police did come because the party had become too noisy for even the rowdy crowd at the Santa Monica Pier. In California, in the cool night air, you even felt healthy when you puked.

dim lights, provocative gyrations, drug-taking and ‘sexual misconduct’

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‘The Strip was suddenly alive with hairy teen hobos and older hippies in nifty belly-button-baring shirts and little girls with mop straight hair and belted hip huggers settled low and cool on their anatomies. The convergence of social types has created a permanent bumper-to-bumper weekend traffic jam in which it now takes some 30 sardine-like minutes to inch along the strip’s 1.7 miles. Modernist architecture added a celestial feeling to the drive-in restaurants, underground theatres, and coffeehouses, not to mention more than 35 psychedelic/mod nightclubs catering to the scene.’

makin' out, dancin' the frug, the swim and the mashed potatoes

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Things went from 35mm to the full 70mm in issue 15 with 'Mutant Monster Beach Party'. It was filmed in photographs and featured Debbie Harry as The Beach Bunny and Joey Ramone as the surfer boy. "Joey helped write scenes in 'Mutant Monster Beach Party' he wrote the scene where a UFO picks him up and takes him to the bikers. He also wrote some of the lyrics for the theme song. He ended up using them later on in Danny Says, 'You can't go surfing because it is twenty below." This example of paper cinema featured a host of guest stars appearing as themselves, including Andy Warhol, John Cale, Lester Bangs and various members of Blondie, the Patti Smith Group, Dictators and Voidoids. Great fun, although it totally bombed when it came to sales. "'Monster Mutant Beach Party' pretty much put us out of business. Both photo story issues were our worst sellers. We put them out there and nobody bought them. They are our most popular issues now, but at the time they were too radical even for our readers."

a bunch of lunatics and drag queens all out of our heads on drugs

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One night when I was DJing for a Siouxsie and the Banshees show at the Music Machine, I met Johnny Rotten for the first time. Johnny was a strange boy. After the show, there was a party up on the stage, and Jordan came up and introduced us. Johnny had been quoted in the press saying that Wayne County was the only woman he would ever consider marrying, so naturally I was curious to meet him. Johnny said, 'I hear you've got tits!', and he reached over and grabbed me and said, 'Naaah, my tits are bigger than that.' So I reached down and grabbed his cock and said, 'Yeah, and my cock's bigger than that.' We got on fine after that.

They launched into “Rockaway Beach,” and the audience went insane.

 

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Edie got involved in the underworld of LA’s strip joints, bootlegging, prostitution, and organized crime—and made it her life. She fled a couple bad marriages and worked her way east, waitressing in mob-run bars, and was a madam in a brothel outside Chicago. She even had a bar of her own in Tishamingo, Okalahoma, but couldn’t make a go of it. She headed to Baltimore in the late 50s because she heard “nothing but bars were there.” This was when the notorious “Block” of stripper bars, porno peep shows, and dirty book stores was packed with sailors, travelling salesmen, and curious diplomats from Washington, DC. The “Block” was anchored by the infamous stripper and mistress of Louisiana’s Governor Huey Long, and Edith worked at many of its clubs, as bar maid and a B-girl. A “B-girl” was a sexy chick who perched on a bar stool and convinced drunken rubes to buy her $50 bottles of champagne. The champagne was actually ginger ale, and the b-girl split the $50 with the house. For independent-minded gals in Baltimore, it was a respectable living.

Edith began to lose her looks, figure, and teeth.

“an assemblage that vibrates with menace, cynicism, and perversion"

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“We spoke two completely different languages. We were on amphetamine and they were on acid. They were so slow to speak with these wide eyes – ‘oh, wow!’ – so into their ‘vibrations’; we spoke in rapid machine-gun fire about books and paintings and movies. They were into ‘free’ and the American Indian and going ‘back to the land’ and trying to be some kind of ‘true, authentic’ person; we could not have cared less about that. They were homophobic; we were homosexual. Their women, they were these big round-titted girls, you would say hello to them and they would just flop on the bed and fuck you; we liked sexual tension, S&M, not fucking. They were barefoot; we had platform boots. They were eating bread they had baked themselves – and we never ate at all!”

needed help with her homework assignment in plaster casting

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It's strange in rock 'n roll, that there's been an abandonment of humour, when it's the bedrock of the music.

The problem is, now, if you're idiosyncratic, you're considered to be kitsch. There's also this kind of awful Mojo reverence for the past. You see nineteen-year-old kids churning out music that sounds like the worst Byrds album. I just don't understand why they'd want to do that. What rock 'n roll represents is pathetic conformity ... which should be burned down! Style isn't about shoes ... To me, a group like the Jesus and Mary Chain is boring. They just took a look at the Velvet Underground. It's like reconstructing the Last Supper, they've just placed themselves around the table!

“a dog-whistle for all the freaks in the city.”

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I get a job as a busboy in Max’s Kansas City, a restaurant of some repute in Union Square.
Nature of clientele: rich hippies, rich artists, rich fags, fag hippies, hippie artists, arty fags, underground film stars, underground artists, underground rich hippie artists, rock stars and their dogs, rich underground arty dogs, etc.
Nature of busboy: one who cleans up tables, lays new tablecloths, serves coffee, trips over rock stars’ fucking Great Danes and spills coffee on rich arty underground floor. Wears long hair and Mickey Mouse t-shirt.
To set the scene: 1 A.M., low ceiling, dark rooms faintly lit by red lights on the tables. Crowded with long hair, patent leather, buckskin, lurex tights. Air filled with cries of “Too Much! Dynamite! Darling, you can’t mean . . . ! Eat shit! Look it’s Warren! Over here Taylor! I said sour fucking cream and chives! Hey, that bastard hasn’t paid!” The vibes run somewhere between a mental institution and a film set.

Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah said the monkey to the chimp.

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a was the first book Andy Warhol wrote. The novel purports to be a recording of twenty-four hours in the life of Warhol superstar Ondine, but actually it was recorded in four different sessions. The first twelve-hour session was recorded in August 1965. Thereafter, there were three separate taping sessions in the summer of 1966 and a final one in May 1967. The book took on a life of its own when the twenty- four one-hour tapes were transcribed by four women: The Velvet Underground's drummer, Maureen Tucker; a part-time Factory worker and Barnard student, Susan Pile; and two high school girls hired for the express purpose of transcription. All four shared a disinclination to spell correctly or apply the rules of grammar. This was due in part to the difficulty of transcribing tapes in which many voices were talking at the same time. Furthermore, speed was of the essence, and it was presumed that after the first rough draft, corrections would be made. However, on first reading the entire original transcript of the book, Warhol was delighted by the mistakes and decided to let them stand.