David Henry Sterry

Author, book doctor, raker of muck

David Henry Sterry

Tag: Alan Black

Litquake San Francisco logo, orange speech bubble

Tales of the Tenderloin Coming to Litquake

Litquake & Kismet Productions Present

Tales of the Tenderloin:

Bad Booze, Broken Dreams, Loose Loins and Tender Hearts

October 10, 8 PM

David Henry Sterry

David Henry Sterry

Alan Black & David Henry Sterry, ne’er-do-well degenerates who’ve spent decades debauching in the TL, will ride herd over an all-star cavalcade of literary luminaries who shine a light on the dark underbelly of the seedy groin of San Francisco’s dirty little secret: the Tenderloin. God-fearing evangelists and godless pimps, homeless crackheads and slumming dotcom millionaires, rogue cops and dirty dancers, fallen angels and back from the dead devils, transitioning streetwalkers and problematic hypersexualists, this is the last bastion of the adverse shrinking urban jungle that has made San Francisco San Francisco since the Gold Rush on Barbary Coast.

The Tenderloin Museum is hosting a 2016 Litquake event (https://litquake2016.sched.org/) on Monday Oct 10th. Tenderloinism: Tales from the ‘Hood features gritty tales from the city’s most misunderstood neighborhood, with Alan Black (of Edinburgh Castle), Paula Hendricks (TL apartment manager & prolific writer), Gary Kamiya (Cool Gray City of Love), David Henry Sterry & Carolyn Terry.

398 Eddy Street @ Leavenworth) San Francisco, CA 94102 415-351-1912

Alan Black
made in Glasgow. unmade in California.

Paula Hendricks
manages an 81 unit apartment building in the TL, writes poetry, and designs books. Author of September in Corrales and The Tire House Book, Paula is interested in the mystery of the everyday… things that are right in front of her eyes, that often go unseen or under-appreciated.

Gary Kamiya
is author of Cool Gray City of Love: 49 Views of San Francisco. He was a co-founder of Salon.com, with David Talbot. He is currently executive editor of San Francisco magazine and writes a weekly history column for the San Francisco Chronicle, “Portals of the Past.”

David Henry Sterry
is the best-selling author of 16 books, a performer, muckraker, producer, and activist. His memoir Chicken:Self-Portrait of a Man for Rent, has been translated into a dozen languages. His anthology Hos, Hookers, Call Girls and Rent Boys was featured on the front cover of the Sunday New York Times Book Review. He is co-founder of The Book Doctors and has helped countless writers get successfully published. He’s appeared on, at or in London Times, National Public Radio, the Blue Man Group, Stanford, Edinburgh Fringe Festival, and the Fresh Prince of Bel Air.

Free and open to the public.

Featuring 

David Henry Sterry & Alan Black Rock NPR on World Cup 2014

Me & Alan Black on NPR with the inside skinny on World Cup 2014. Can America escape Group o Death? Hell yeah!

world_cup_0707_01

Art of the Memoir: Alan Black on the Illusion of Chaos, Copernicus and the Straight Railway Track to the Grave

To commemorate the publication of the 10 year anniversary edition of my memoir Chicken Self:-Portrait of a Man for Rent, I have decided to do a series of interviews with memoirists I admire.  I’ve known Alan black for many years, and I’m not ashamed to say it publicly.  I met him when he was running literary events at The Edinburgh Castle, in the groin of San Francisco’s seed-filled Tenderloin.  In the name of full disclosure, we wrote a book together.

David Henry Sterry: Why in god’s name did you decide to write a memoir?

51Os1eNYbkL._SY344_PJlook-inside-v2,TopRight,1,0_SH20_BO1,204,203,200_AB: I didn’t write it in His name. I wrote it I my own name. God had already published a couple of biographies, the Bible, the Koran and He even has a global rights deal out in the East with the Upanishads in India. I thought about using His name but then I figured Oprah would find out and I would be exposed as a fraud and I like to keep my fraudulence private like my flatulence.

DHS: What were the worst things about writing your memoir?

AB: Reversing the Copernican model of the solar system. The sun went around me. When you’re at the center, it can be uncomfortable. I felt I was inventing myself. My entire life work of having others define me was in peril. I had to take responsibility for my own story and during the process of writing the book, all I could think of was Jim Morrison yelling at the audience, “No one gets out of here alive!”

DHS: What were the best things about writing your memoir?

AB: Working with an exceptionally talented editor who kept me straight. When I tried to bullshit him by re-inserting a petulant and infantile chapter in the document, he cautioned me – “Now you’re being a sanctimonious asshole. Let’s just get back to being an asshole.” Pure quality! Refreshing and direct. That’s the editor you want.

DHS: Did writing your memoir help you make some order out of the chaos we call life?

AB: I don’t see life as chaos. I see it as a straight railway track to the grave. The good parts are being able to go back to the restaurant car for a good meal or sitting in the observation car watching the world go by. And you meet the finest people on trains unlike planes or hot air balloons.

DHS: How did you make a narrative out of the seemingly random events that happened to you?

AB: None of it was random. I’m a Calvinist. Everything is pre-destined. If you work in a supermarket, you get to understand this. Everything has a sell-by date. It arrives ready to expire. I worked at Safeway as a kid and they still owe me for a week’s wages, the fucking bastards! I never shop there. However, I did learn one think working there – chaos is an illusion.

The beauty of baking the bread in the morning in the store’s bakery was as close to heaven as a person can get. For dough always rises. And tomorrow it rises again.

DHS: How was the process of selling your memoir?

AB: My agent was spectacular, the female 007 of publishing. Within a few hours of it being in the hands of an editor, it was sold.

DHS: How did you go about promoting and marketing your memoir?

AB: I tried hard – went on the radio, performed readings from the book, Google bought a box, but real life held me back via time. Having to work as a bartender for a living kept me short of hours to sell myself as “the next big thing.” Yeah right! I was busy throwing drunks into the street, breaking up fights, dodging punches, slopping up geographic vomit spatters in the shape of Long Island and sprinkling Holy Water Jameson droplets on bilious sociopaths while delivering the benediction – “the power of Christ compels you!” I am available for exorcisms at reasonable rates. I have met some evil spirits.

AB: Did you have difficulty speaking in public about the intimate aspects of your memoir?

AB: No.

DHS: How did your family, friends and loved ones react to your memoir?

AB: I don’t think any of them read it. And if they did, they kept it quiet.

DHS: I hate to ask you this, but you have any advice for people who want to write a memoir?

AB: I hate you for asking that question! Yes, write your memoir. It’s your story. What else is there?

 

David Henry Sterry is the author of 16 books, a performer, muckraker, educator, activist, and book doctor.  His new book Chicken Self:-Portrait of a Man for Rent, 10 Year Anniversary Edition http://bit.ly/1ancjuE, has been translated into 10 languages.  He’s also written Hos, Hookers, Call Girls and Rent Boys: Professionals Writing on Life, Love, Money and Sex, which appeared on the front cover of the Sunday New York Times Book Review.  He is a finalist for the Henry Miller Award.  He has appeared on, acted with, written for, been employed as, worked and/or presented at: Will Smith, a marriage counselor, Disney screenwriter, Stanford University, National Public Radio, Milton Berle, Huffington Post, a sodajerk, Michael Caine, the Taco Bell chihuahua, Penthouse, the London Times, Edinburgh Fringe Festival, a human guinea pig and Zippy the Chimp.  He can be found at www.davidhenrysterry.com.  https://davidhenrysterry.com/

chicken 10 year 10-10-13

 

David Henry Sterry Rocks Litquake Sports Night Oct 7 Hemlock 7pm

I am absolutely ecstatic to be reading at Litquake on Sports Night with my boy Alan Black, the Legend-in-his-own-time Jack Boulware, and an all-star cavalcade of San Francisco’s best and brightest.

http://litquake.org/events/sports

This is my Little League team I was eight years old in Hueytown Alabama.  Can you tell which one is me?

Huffington Post World Cup Predictions Group C

http://huff.to/d2NfvO

Huffington Post Gives More Glorious World Cup Love to David Henry Sterry

http://huff.to/b3cY7w

Huffington Post Glorious World Cup Predictions from David Henry Sterry

http://huff.to/dfh9Ul

Huffington Post Glorious World Cup Piece

thanks once again to be Huffington Post for giving us so much welcome love.

http://huff.to/9YWZ8S

David Henry Sterry & Alan Black: The Glorious World Cup on National Public Radio

It was a glorious day on Sunday for the Glorious World Cup when the glorious Liane Hanson interviewed me and my partner in crime on black. She was absolutely the pro’s pro. I’m afraid I have a bit of a radio crush on her at this point.

http://n.pr/9D1tDT

World Cup predictions: Group G
http://bit.ly/aow5fs

World Cup predictions: Group F
http://bit.ly/cUCvKz

World Cup predictions: Group E
http://bit.ly/9N03Cx

World Cup predictions: Group D
http://bit.ly/95lCBB

World Cup predictions: Group C
http://bit.ly/9ZidSx

World Cup predictions: Group B
http://bit.ly/9gHm2P

World Cup predictions: Group A
http://bit.ly/b8p1rL

World Cup Group H
http://bit.ly/dkGPUc

The Glorious World Cup presents: American Soccer Fanatic on Reuters

we’re all very excited to be on one of the great new services in the world today. Thank you Reuters.

http://blogs.reuters.com/soccer/

Birthday Boy Gets Severe World Cup Fever, Sex Worker Literati at Bowery Poetry Club & Essential Guide to Getting Published


Today is my birthday. I’m going to have very good pancakes and go see Henri Carter Bresson photographs and then some kind of spectacular meal and see some kind of spectacular theater. As I look back on May and forward to June there’s been so much done yet so much to do that my head spins. We finally got to the top of the mountain of The Essential Guide to Publishing a Book. The book is now in the hands of our incredibly excellent copy editor at Workman. It was a long excruciating climb through massive blizzards temperature dropping way below zero no sleep migraine clusterfuck headaches the closer we got to the less oxygen there was our Sherpas fled, and of course we’re hauling it 2 ½ year-old with us. Sadly, we lost a man. Milo didn’t make it this time. But he gave it his all, 110%, right til the very end. Given the proper burial and if there’s any justice, he’s up in Cat Heaven chasing that wind my, basking in the sun, frolicking in fields of catnip. But luckily, we have an incredible team at Workman, and we are planning a spectacular tour of these great United States, helping writers get well published.

The Glorious World Cup: A Fanatic’s Guide, kicked off, and the team has had a very bright beginning, lots of thrusting offense, some brave defending, and massive amounts of daily grinding. My partner in crime, San Francisco literary legend Alan Black, has been hacking and slashing all over the soccer blogosphere and set up a bunch of kick ass events in the Bay Area. Meanwhile, in my hometown of Montclair New Jersey, at my way awesome local book emporium Watchung Bookstore, we had a rocking soccer event as well. And here’s the beauty of both my new hometown and doing events at your local independent bookstore. I just happened to run into an expatriate Englishman who just happened to be purchasing a book. Turns out he works for Reuters, the international news service. Turns out he was looking for an American perspective on the world cup. I sent him something. He told me I needed to dial it back by approximately 42%. I did. And there it is, alive and kicking. We also had a piece of Arielle-related good fortune. She hooked us up with National Public Radio’s Weekend Edition. They asked us if we would like to be interviewed about the World Cup. We said yes. So on Thursday, through the miracle of modern technology, will be interviewed from Washington DC, with Alan in Berkeley, Ca, and myself in Montclair, NJ. I also put up a series of predictions for the World Cup which are extremely fanatical. The response has been amazing. I’ve been called everything from a fag to a genius, and I’ve made a new friend from Uruguay. And there it is, that’s the beauty of the beautiful game. So were going to San Francisco to do a bunch of soccer events. The big day is June 6. Three events I’m very excited about.

Major changes afoot with the Sex Worker Literati. We decided to move the show uptown. And by uptown, I mean the Bowery. Tres excited about our 1 year anniversary show at the legendary and absolutely fabulous Bowery Poetry Club. I just couldn’t think of a better place. Although I loved Happy Ending, it was just so tiny, and there was no stage. Now, the gloves are off. Throbbing music, wild stories of sex & $ from hard working hos, hustlers, call girls & rent boys, bumping burlesque, ribald questions and answers, I’m slightly dizzy with the possibilities. My most excellent new friend Zoe Hansen will be my cohost with the most. We’ll be taking the summer off, and having our 1 year anniversary extrvanganza in September. Details to follow. Audacia Ray will be continuing at Happy Ending Lounge, with a show entitled The Red Umbrella Project: http://www.redumbrellaproject.com/. This Thursday, totally psyched about my last Sex Worker Literati at Happy Ending: Passing and Coming Out, with amazing guests, Cameron were, Randy Newton, Sarah Jenny, and special guests from RentBoy.com, which has been much in the news recently due to some crazy political sex shenanigans.

Also, there’s a very cool event on Saturday, June 6, Sex Worker Cabaret. I had to drop out of the lineup, because of the events in San Francisco. But it’s a great great lineup, and I’m sad I won’t be part of it. http://www.sexworkercabaret.com/

Sex Worker Literati:
Thursday, June 3, 7:30 PM, 302 Broome St., New York City
Hos, Hooker, Call Girls and Rent Boys: http://bit.ly/afCbkh
Sex Worker Literati Facebook: http://bit.ly/a9HBw1

The Glorious World Cup:
Thursday, June 3, 7 PM, Green Apples Books, 506 Clement St., San Francisco (I will not be at this event, I will be doing a Sex Worker Literati that Happy Ending in New York City)
Saturday, June 5, 10 AM, NPR’s West Coast Live, Ferry Building, Embarcadero, SF
Saturday, June 5, 3 PM, Borders Books, 400 Post St., SF: http://bit.ly/bkTDrl
Saturday, June 5, 8 PM, Edinburgh Castle Pub, 950 Geary St., SF: http://bit.ly/9nF45r

(A goal will be built, and the public is welcome to take your best shot and try to beat yours truly, who will be manning the goal and talking a lot of smack)

The Glorious World Cup: http://bit.ly/ahXLPi
The Glorious World Cup Facebook in Korea: http://bit.ly/9WnpwC

Huffington Post piece: American Manhood from Mickey Mantle to Landon Manchild Donovan, and Why America Can When the World Cup: http://huff.to/c4OEri

Digital Sports Daily piece: http://bit.ly/cd9IE8

Largeheartedboy: http://bit.ly/cvnlLe

Glorious World Cup Predictions
Group A: http://bit.ly/b9DGs
Group B: http://bit.ly/ba99lC

Group C: http://bit.ly/bcqBFJ
Group D: http://bit.ly/bHMxnO

Group E: http://bit.ly/9Oy2sT
Group F: http://bit.ly/cn4xsW

Group H: http://bit.ly/bHKcPQ
Group G: http://bit.ly/b3wXnE

Final: http://bit.ly/949YrC

BEA pictures: http://bit.ly/ansbev
Olive: http://bit.ly/cyy4oH, http://bit.ly/9x0VCE, http://bit.ly/bLfwb4

The Glorious World Cup Presents: An America Soccer Fanatic’s Predictions for South Africa 2010 : Group H

GROUP H: YES: Spain & Chile NO: Honduras, Switzerland

Spain is in theory the #1 team in the world. They are the odds-on favorite to win the World Cup. They have an absolutely gorgeous goalscoring machine in Fernando Torres. His cheeks are so rosy and his eyelashes are so long, he looks like a cheesecake pinup model. And he can flat out play. They have a bad boy defender was perhaps the worst haircut at this edition of the World Cup, Carlos Puyol. “Tarzan” from Barcelona sports a ‘do that equal parts Conan the Barbarian, Prince Valiant, and trailer trash mullet. Many are predicting Spain are the will go all the way. I am not. While they have the capability of playing better than anyone, they have deep insecurities regarding their own national identity. They see themselves as the inferior cousins of Europe, and in the end they will fold like a house of cards, while falling apart like a cheap suit. Chile will make it through to the next round if for no other reason than their coach’s nickname is “The Madman”. Switzerland is much like a clock when it comes to soccer. They’re not fast, they’re not slow, they just keep on ticking. The good news is, they don’t allow very many goals. The bad news is, they almost score even less. Honduras? They have two chances of making it through to the next round. Slim and none.

The Glorious World Cup: A Fanatics Guide is, pound for pound, the funniest book about World Cup 2010 on the market today.

http://www.amazon.com/Glorious-World-Cup-Fanatics-Guide/dp/0451230205

The Glorious World Cup Presents: An America Soccer Fanatic’s Predictions for South Africa 2010 : Group G

GROUP G: YES: Brazil & Ivory Coast NO: Portugal, North Korea
Every World Cup has a group that makes its players and fans quiver in fright and shiver in terror: The Group of Death. And if you had to face Brazil, North Korea, Ivory Coast and Portugal, you’d be quivering and shivering too. Brazil is, and always will be, Brazil. Yes, they no longer play some football, but they’re so good they didn’t have room for one of the highest paid soccer players in the world, Ronaldinho. Robinho, Luisao, Kaka, with all their one name superstars, they are certainly the Madonna of world soccer. And this time around, they also have some bad ass defenders, and a hotshot goalie. Good luck everybody. That being said, last year in South Africa at about this time, Team USA laid some hard wood on Brazil, and should’ve beaten them handily in the Confederations Cup. Portugal has the player with the greatest ratio of pretty boy to talent of any athlete in the world. Cristiano Ronaldo is ridiculously, sickly talented, and so easy on the eyes it almost hurts to look at him. The downside: he’s a delicate genius, fragile as a hothouse flower. And while he is surrounded by lots of world-class one-name superstars like Deco and Nani, the only reason they got to South Africa was the Ingmar Bergman like death swoon that Sweden performed at the end of World Cup qualifying. The Ivory Coast should go a long way in this tournament. Didier Drogba is possibly the best striker in the world, a man with Michael Jordan like strength, skill and breathholding athleticism. He builds hospitals, he scores goals. Kolo Toure is not only a fun name to say out loud, he is also a wise and savvy hardman who has a nose for goal and a very talented younger brother named Yaya. “Yaya, Kolo, time for supper.” Then there’s Salomon Kalou. If Kolo Toure married Salomon Kalou, he’d be Kolo Kalou. Didn’t think I’d find a way to work gay marriage into the World Cup did you? The point is, Ivory Coast is packed with take-no-prisoner tough guys who are also highly skilled practitioners of their craft. I’ll say it again, the Ivory Coast should go a long way in this tournament. And then there’s North Korea. Yes, they will terrify people with their nuclear capability, and surprise people with their bright attacking style, but sadly, I believe the group of death will kill them.

The Glorious World Cup: A Fanatics Guide is, pound for pound, the funniest book about World Cup 2010 on the market today.

http://www.amazon.com/Glorious-World-Cup-Fanatics-Guide/dp/0451230205

The Glorious World Cup Presents: An America Soccer Fanatic’s Predictions for South Africa 2010 : Group F

GROUP F: YES: Italy & Paraguay NO: New Zealand, Slovakia
The last time we saw Italy at the World Cup Final, they were saying rude things about people’s sisters, getting head butted, and dancing gleefully with the trophy. They are back with much of the same crew intact. They still have that mad handsome dashing cat between the posts, Gianluigi Buffon. If he's not the best goalkeeper in the world, he's certainly on the short list. But they're old and they're slow and Gatusso, the barking dog, is getting long in tooth, his bark becoming increasingly worse than his bite. Yes, they will get through this round, if for no other reason than Buffon is no buffoon. But will they be the first repeat winners since Brazil almost half a century ago? I don't think so. No, make that, absolutely not. New Zealand? I just don't see it team named after a fruit, even a fruit as adorable as a kiwi, making it through. Slovakia? They got to South Africa courtesy of a Polish own goal, so I believe they are doomed. Paraguay’s best player has a world-class name, Roque Santa Cruz. The fact that they hacked their way out of the jungles of South America, (good preparation for success in almost any field) I believe they will make it through to the next round.

The Glorious World Cup: A Fanatics Guide is, pound for pound, the funniest book about World Cup 2010 on the market today.

http://www.amazon.com/Glorious-World-Cup-Fanatics-Guide/dp/0451230205

The Glorious World Cup Presents: An America Soccer Fanatic’s Predictions for South Africa 2010 : Group E

GROUP E: YES: Netherlands & Cameroon NO: Japan & Denmark
I can’t help it, I am so on love with this Holland team I want to marry it. .Robin van Persie is like a cross between Dutch Master Johann Cruyff and the little boy who put his finger in the dyke. Arjen Robbin, in addition to being an absolutely fabulous artiste with the ball at his feet, is also a diva of divers, ready to crumble in agony when struck by a stiff breeze. But can they win the whole thing? Absolutely not. They are, after all, Dutch. They will eventually, inevitably disintegrate like a bunch of spoiled high strung schoolgirls. The Danes have some seasoned veterans, but their dark brooding nature is an insurmountable obstacle. Cameroon, the Indomitable Lions (greatest team name ever!), do in fact have an indomitable lion spearheading their enterprise, the resplendent Samuel Eto’o. And they are buttressed by a splendid hardman who is part of World Cup history. Rigobert Song is not only the youngest player ever to be ejected from a World Cup, when he was given the heave ho at the tender age of 17. He is also one of two players to be sent off at two different World Cups. You may have heard of the other: Zinadane Zidane. I’m rooting for Rigobert to break the record. The Japanese have perhaps my favorite uniform in the tournament. But they can’t score goals. Which makes it very difficult to win games. So I believe Japan will fall on their own sword in South Africa.

The Glorious World Cup: A Fanatics Guide is, pound for pound, the funniest book about World Cup 2010 on the market today.

http://www.amazon.com/Glorious-World-Cup-Fanatics-Guide/dp/0451230205

The Glorious World Cup Presents: An America Soccer Fanatic’s Predictions for South Africa 2010 : Group D

GROUP D: YES: Serbia & Ghana NO: Australia & Germany
If Group G is the Group of Death, Group D is the Group of Do Not Resuscitate. A crazy melting pot of bizarre juxtapositions, these surreal pairings are just one of the reasons I love the World Cup above all other sporting events. Germany is, well, Germany. It doesn't really matter how much they suck leading up to the World Cup. They still have Thomas "Der Hammer” Hitzlberger, and all that maniacal Mercedes-Benz precision. But without Michael Ballack, their cultured, stylish, stiletto-sharp midfield maestro, they can't make it to the Finals. The Socceroos? How do you not love a country who calls their team that? And Australia has some playaz: Lucas Neill, a very handsome fellow you'd never want to meet in a dark alley in. Ghana is a fierce beast. Led by one of my favorite players on the planet, Michael "The Bison" Essien, the Black Stars are a dark horse capable of laying a righteous beat down on anyone. Serbia has been through so many brutal wars they can take anything you have to dish out and just stare back without blinking or batting an eye or a lash. They have a great hardman was a great hardman name: Vidic. Vidic the Impaler. Vidic the Slayer. Vidic the Vicious. They have a deep squad full of hard-working technicians of the highest caliber. I would not want to face them. Very tough group, I'm going way out on a limb here and picking Serbia and Ghana, but I don't feel good about it.

The Glorious World Cup: A Fanatics Guide is, pound for pound, the funniest book about World Cup 2010 on the market today.

http://www.amazon.com/Glorious-World-Cup-Fanatics-Guide/dp/0451230205

The Glorious World Cup Presents: An America Soccer Fanatic’s Predictions for South Africa 2010 : Group C

GROUP C: YES: USA & England NO: Algeria & Slovenia
June 12, 2010. USA versus England, the imperialist colonizers who taxed us with no representation. 60 years to the day after the greatest American sports upset you never heard of. 1950, World Cup, Brazil, long before information could fly around the world at the speed of light, a ragtag group of plucky, scruffy unknowns went up against England, the self-proclaimed "greatest soccer team in the world". No one gave uber-underdog Americans a ghost of a chance against the pampered, privileged, pedigreed professionals. How little the world has changed. England boasts a cavalcade of superstar millionaires with beautiful wives and girlfriends, some of whom their own teammates have sex with on the sly (giving the phrase, "I got your back," a whole new meaning). US is a 66-1 longshot. But mark my words and mark them well, if the holy triumvirate of T-Ho, the fiercely mighty Tim Howard, Clint Eastwood Dempsey, and Landon Manchild Donovan are all healthy, they will smack England down, just as they did 60 years ago. Algeria? Slovenia? Thank you for coming to the dance, better luck next time. And don't think this draw is an accident. The powers that be, and all their money, desperately want America and England to: a) play each other in their debuts with galatic ratings off the charts; 2) make it through to the next round against some weak-ass opponents. All due respect to Alvenia and Slogeria. In fact, there's A LOT riding on the US hosting the World Cup in the near future. Don't be surprised to see self-confessed soccer fanatic President Barack Obama give some serious face time to South Africa this summer.

The Glorious World Cup: A Fanatics Guide is, pound for pound, the funniest book about World Cup 2010 on the market today.

http://www.amazon.com/Glorious-World-Cup-Fanatics-Guide/dp/0451230205

The Glorious World Cup Presents: An America Soccer Fanatic’s Predictions for South Africa 2010 : Group B

GROUP B: YES: Argentina & Nigeria NO: South Korea & Greece

Argentina has, pound-for-pound, the greatest player in the world, The Flea with the genius feet, Lionel Messi. Yes, he does weigh 104 lbs. soaking wet, but still, the man is a maestro, a modern artist/dancer/madman. Problem is, Argentina also has the craziest coach, not just in soccer, but in any sport (and that’s a bold statement given the well-documented craziness of coaches), scorer of probably the greatest individual goal in World Cup history, Diego Maradona. They will make it through by sheer dint of the miniscule magician. With midfield marvel John Obi Wan Kanobi Mikel waving his wand doling out punishment, they will be a scary scary foe. Even though Greece recently won the European championship, and have a most excellent team, their entire economy’s in the toilet, so naturally they’re going to tank. South Korea has the hardest working soccer player in show business, Manchester United’s Energizer Bunny, Park-Ji-Sung, but after that they are woefully thin and wickedly undermanned.

http://www.amazon.com/Glorious-World-Cup-Fanatics-Guide/dp/0451230205

Glorious World Cup Prediction Group A: Mexico, Uruguay, France, South Africa

Hundreds of millions of humans will soon gather in bars, barns, parks, taverns, caverns, caravans, caves and bunkers, some crossing vast deserts just to find a radio so they can listen to a sporting extravaganza that’ll be bigger than the Super Bowl, Stanley Cup, NBA Finals and will at the Ohio 200 of them “World” Series all rolled into one. It’s humanity’s biggest pilgrimage: the World Cup. The pot’s been simmering for four years, and it’s finally coming to a boil. 204 teams played 848 matches and scored 2,337 goals, battling hammer and tong, tooth and nail for the right to become one of the chosen 32 nations who gets a chance to bring home both the bacon and the gory. June 11, 2010, strap it on and strap him yourself in, as the mother of all sporting events crashlands for the first time in history on the mother of all continents. Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for, live from a Jo’berg, it’s, World Cup 2010 South Africaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
The World Cup is a month long marathon disguised as a series of furious sprints. Lemme break it down fa ya. Group Stage: 8 groups of 4 teams. Everybody plays 3 games. Top 2 go teams through. Elimination Stage: win and live to fight another day; lose & it’s instant extermination.

GROUP A: YES: France & South Africa NO: Mexico & Uruguay
Call me a cockeyed optimist, but I’m picking South Africa make it through to the round of 16. Bafana Bafana, Zulu for “the Boys”, has a world-class forward in double-somersaulting Stephen Pienaar, and a hulking, humongous, yet surpisingly skillful shaved-bald defender in Matthew Booth, who looks shockingly like a huge Q-tip. Plus they will have the maniacal sound of 1 billion vuvuzelas, their ear-bleedingly loud local noisemakers, trumpeting their every triumph. Plus this is a nation that overcame hatred and pain in part through the beautiful game. Call me a bitter cynic, but I’m also picking France to advance. After the galling display of Gallic dishonor in the infamous Hand of Henry cheating scandal, they’ve come to represent the way the world is now. Turns out cheating is, after all, the best way to win. If you don’t believe me, go ask Goldman Sachs. Mexico? Having watched the fiery Mexicans go cold in the hot spotlight so many times over the decades, I believe our neighbors to the south are a taco short of a Combo Platter. Uruguay? Too much bad karma. Their legacy of World Cup brutality is well documented, most famously in the person of José Batista, ejected 53 seconds into a 1986 game for chopping a Scotsman in half.

Huffington Post: American Manhood, from Mantle to Manchild Donovan & Why America Can Win World Cup 2010

Thanks once again to the Huffington Post for giving me some love. Nice to see World Cup fever is spreading.

http://huff.to/c4OEri

The Glorious World Cup presents: Photos from an American Soccer Fanatic

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Musical Playlist & Interview for Glorious World Cup from Largeheartedboy

I love this website, and the guy who runs it is way cool, David Gutowski. i had a blast putting this 2gether.

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http://www.largeheartedboy.com/blog/archive/2010/05/book_notes_davi_13.html

 

 

The Glorious World Cup

To buy the book click here.

glorious world cup_If a guide book was a riot, then this is it. The Glorious World Cup is a smash and grab read with propellant laughs, and wicked satire. Expect some crunching tackles on the establishment with profiles on hooligans, World Cup villains and serious national grudges. Stuffed with country and player profiles, bags of footie history, and all you need to know about South Africa. Shooting on target are contributors Irvine Welsh, author of Trainspotting, best-selling author Po Bronson, and the world’s best soccer writer, Simon Kuper. This is the rebel guide for the soccer masses and the fanatic. Score one.

Now you know…

*1 million condoms have recently been shipped to South Africa.

*USA v England on June 12, the second day of the tournament, around the 60th anniversary of one of the World Cup’s most famous matches – USA’s shock 1-0  victory over England in the 1950 tournament in Brazil.

*The first recorded soccer game in America took place at Plymouth Rock on what is now known as Thanksgiving.  They used a pumpkin for a ball.

*Henry Kissinger is soccer mad. Kobe Bryant too.

Welcome to the club.

The Glorious World Cup getting a very nice shout out from Washington Post: Original article.

From Library Journal:

A fun yet informative guide to the World Cup, this inexpensive volume provides group match ups, player and country profiles, trivia, and brief histories to cups of the past. Generously illustrated, the book is ideal for reading on your flight to observe the World Cup firsthand-or for browsing between television viewings….a useful guide to casual or serious soccer fan.

 

Eulogy for Milo

 

May brought the first summer day in 2010, when it’s so hot you sweat just breathing, and the streets shimmer in protest. As we were broiling in the car struggling in the parking lot that was Rt. 3E just outside the Lincoln Tunnel, I was overcome with the hubris of we humans, chanting like ravenous jackals, “Drill, baby, drill!” And I imagined Mother Nature shaking her head in disgust as the latest national unnatural disaster is unleashed. I’m just so angry when I see the pictures and contemplate the massive clusterfuck gushing into the Gulf Coast waters. But then Olive started singing, “American Pie” from the back seat, and I had hope again. Olive is 2 ½. Not 2. 2 ½. May be a most excellent mother. The new book drops on May 4. Doing event at my favorite local bookstore, Watchung Bookstore. And of course another month brings another Sex Worker Literati.

Drugs, Litquake & the Edinburgh Castle

I just got home from the Litquake Writers on Drugs show, the place was packed, jacked and wacked, 200 litquakin’ loons crammed into the Edinburgh Castle, where the ghost of Irvine Welch pukes in the bathroom, and oh man the joint jumped, rumbled, rattled and rolled, 9.8 on the Richter Scale.  Alan Black the masterful master of ceremonies, was the very model of Scottish hospitality, all nettles and good cheer and the blackest of humor, invoking the dead who’d perished in the Castle from overindulgence and intemperence.  What a wag that Alan is, if you’ve never met him, do yourself a favor, introduce yourself at the Caslte and have a blather, he is a true Olde School wit.  BTW, Litquke was actually conceived at the Castle, in the front room, i’m not sure what bodily fluids were exchanged but the fetus was made and life began there.  From such humble beginnings, Litquake has become such a huge amazing phenomenon.   I was very happy to be at the Castle for Drug Night.
 

Before the show I was hanging out all alone, rehearsing, in the upstairs back room where they normally have readings, when I met another of the evening”s performers, Ed Rosenthal, one of America’s most famous marijuana advocates and a writer and publsiher.  He asked me if this was the place to smoke weed.  I said I thought this was as good a place as any.  He kindly asked me if I would like to join him.  I thanked him, and explained that I can’t perform as well when I’m stoned, it throws me off my game.  Funny to be performing a drug story in a night full of drug stories, and not be able to be on drugs because it would make my performance suffer.  At one time in my life I would have said yes, got stoned, and agonized about it, got all FREAKED OUT, and been all tight and weird and destroy my own self, then fall deep into a funk and go engage in some Behavior, as my AA friends call it, that stuff you do to destroy yourself.  I was happy to have evolved enough to recognize what was in my own best instance, and to act accordingly. That made me happy. But when Ed pulled out his pipe and happily lit up, getting quite lit up in the process, I was suddenyl sad.  Imagine how great Ed Rosenthal’s weed must be.  Later when he went out to perform he confessed in a tiedied stoner voice that he didn’t really remember anything of his life up to about a week ago.  He got a big laugh.  I was struck by how he had evolved enough to make comedy out of his life. And I thought, ahhhh, yes, that’s why I moved to San Francisco.  Ed did a mad rant about how insane it is that the government is sinking all this time and money into  fighting the war on drugs when so much else is mucked up in the world, and thanked San Franciscans for helping him make legal history in fighting the evil bastards of the Dark Side. Jayson Galloway, Professor of English author of Viagra Fiend, deconstructed his six favorite drugs, from acid (worst) to ecstacy (favorite), elborating on the pluses and minuses of each.  Favorite line: Cocaine is a dillatante drug.  Quite right.  Fascinating that meth (#4 on his list I believe) got booed.  Meth apparently is no longer sexy.  Unless you’re on it.  Before you crash and just want MORE METH.  R.U. Serius, looking deliciously Hobbitty and puckish, read a hysterical story about growing up and doing drugs.  Favorite scene: He’s listening to some local dude talk about eating some girl out, and he has no idea what that means, so he assumes it’s about cannibalism and wonders why there were no arrests afterwards. Favorite line: Something he learned that has stayed with him the entire rest of his life: When you’re in a group experimenting with drugs, NEVER GO FIRST.

Then came the break, and I was disturbingly nervous as I did my warm-ups and stretches.  They’re going to hate me.  I could see it so clearly.  Kept flashing on this time I was performing in a nightclub in Edinburgh and they turned on me, I was so bad, I sucked so hard, I bombed, I died, I crashed and burned.  It kept recurring, that flashback of the sick cold failure clamming all over me, wrapping its icy fingers around my neck with an ever-tightening chokehold.  I fought the image as best I could, using Jedi mind control techniques: I countered the failure flashbacks with memories of when I had fun, when I flowed sweet and easy.  At the Assembly Room at the Fringe Festival.  Last year at Litquake when Furlinghetti opened (yeah right!)for me.  Doing a sketch for HBO where I was a leach lover. Emceeing at Chippendales one Saturday night when I was whipping the Ladies into a frenzied froth.  Every time I did, the failure flashback faded.  Still, it was exhausting.

So after the break, the music finally gets turned off, and Alan makes the crowd shut up.  He’s like a great dominatrix, he just demands respect.  So naturally he gets it.  They shut up.  He’s giving me a great intro, and I take a moment to look out at the crowd, all baited with anticipation, so much human energy waiting to have fun, and I have a profound sense of well being, like where in the world would I rather be? 200 humans just waiting be to entertainment, desperatley wanting to be entertained, and I didn’t have to lift a finger to get them there. I had a deep feeling of gratitude to the universe, so lucky to be there in the now of that moment, and I felt a sense of accomplishment, like I worked so hard to get there, the years of stand-up and the years of writing and writing of writing, and the hours and hours I spent working on this story I was about to read,the revising, the re-writing, the tinkering, the buffing the polishing, it all lead me there.  As I looked at the crowd, all those faces, eyes shining, souls hungy for something to wrap themselves around, to transport them, make them laugh and feel and be alive with all these other humans, I felt like part of a long line of history, of people gathering to share their stories, to rejoice in the beauty and terror of being alive on the planet with all the other humans.

I was gonna do some sort of introductory remarks, some witty chitchatty small talk, but feeling the crowd, I sensed that I should just dive right into the telling of the story.  It felt like they wanted to be told a story, so I gave it to them.  Right from the very beginning I could feel the room come with me.  It’s hard to describe how you know that, you can’t quantify or measure it, but my God you can feel it.  When a crowd is bored or resistant, or turned off, it’s like when a date goes bad.  You can just feel it, and if you’re not careful you panic and work harder to make it better, only that just makes it worse.  But when you feel them with you, that crowd, it’s electric, and you feel you can do no wrong.  So, at the beginning I was getting laughs from lines that I never got laughs on before in that story, which is always a great sign, but not abnormal, when you have a large jacked up crowd crammed into a small intimate space.  But then when I came to the part in the story where a character makes an impassioned plea for everyone to all take acid together before the big hockey game against the hoity toits at Andover, I really let loose, and shouted out the lines with all my mojo flowing, amd the crowd roared eruptingly, man what a krazee rush that was.  The best drug of all, I thought, this is the best drug of all, being up here and getting all that laugh love and riotous crowd happiness, riding through my veins finer than the finest China White.  I’m getting goose bumpies just stting here typing this, it was so overwhelmingly purely joyful.  Addictive? Perhaps.  Hangover? Never.

So then I got to the part where we’re on the bus going to the game, as everybody waits for the acid to kick in, and in the story it gets quiet. Scary quiet.  I hadn’t planned to, but I lowered my voice to a whisper, and then just stopped talking to let it sink in. Pindrop eery silence fell night over the room.  In a club so crowded that kind of silence is stunning, and for me, pure gold, mana from heaven, mother’s milk, possibly better than an orgasm. No, better than an orgasm for sure, cuz you can have an orgasm in your room all alone.  It takes 200 other humans to create this spooky silence, where no one is breathing, and even the machines seem to be holding their breath.  Again I hadn’t planned this, but I just stopped talking.  Let it sit there and sink in.  Early in my career I could never have done that.  You have to have absolute trust and faith to stop talking like that.  To give the moment its full due takes a kind of blind faith.  But I felt it.  And I just let it be.  Trusted myself and my instincts.  Trusted the crowd.  Trusted the story.  It was like a comedy time bomb.  After a few stunned seconds of stunning silence, the reality of the moment in the story, where everyone is waiting to feel the acid come on, sinks in to the audience there in that room.  And they get it.  They are one with me and I with them, and that is when I feel God in that moment of union and communion transcendent and holy in the very best sense of the word. I scanned the room with wide eyes, feeling that feeling from the story fully and truly, of waiting to feel the acid and watching the faces of my teamamtes to see if they were feeling it too.  And the more I looked, the more they laughed.  It’s just the coolest thing to get that huge a laugh from NOT saying anything.  This is when Einstein is revealed to be a genius.  Time for me becomes palpably relative.  This moment just keeps going on and on and on, the laughter washing over my shores all warm and wet and tall and tan and young and lovely.  When I die and my life flashes before my eyes, I hope this is one of the moments I relive.  As the laughter faded, I dove right back, and I felt myself riding that crowd like a dragon I trained and made my own, flying through the air, with the greatest of ease, swooping and diving, spitting fire at will.  It was just so easy.  Effortless ecstacy. The crescendo happened right where it should, we all climaxed together just like it’s supposed to be. To the golden sounds of the crowd giving it up, I floated off the stage and up the stairs, the high on all the love I’m getting.

The rest of the show was a blur to me, but Kate Braverman, transplendent and noirish in black, and Michelle Tea were amazing.  Michelle read from Rent Girl. I was reminded again what a great reader and writer she is, which is rarer than hen’s teeth, (as my poor dead mom used to say) and she’s so styly to boot.

As we were leaving the club Arielle turned to me and said, “Boy you coulda gotta lotta pussy tonight.”  I smiled at her and said, “Honey, I’ve got all the pussy I want right here with me. ” And I gave her a big wet sexy kiss.  I guess we’re just a coupla knuckleheaded romantics.  The one sad note of the evening was that I invited a writer who I’m working with to come and talk and network.  She’s got, irony rearing its fat head, a terrible drug problem.  She showed up wacked out of her skull.  Didn’t even stay to watch my part of the show, never mind let me introduce her around afterwards.  She called my cel phone while I was actually on stage.  In her message she said she had a headache.  Headache, my eye.  The fact that she had to self-medicate herself to the point of stupification made my heart sink like a sad loadstone.  She couldn’t do what was in her own best interest.  And she’s such a talented writer.  I want so much to help her, but then I wonder why should I bother if she can’t show up.  It’s not enough to be talented and to to want it.  You gotta show up.  It’s nearly 4am now and I should be sleepy but I’m still so high and wired from my performance.  I guess I’ll go read Crime and Punishment.  I started it about a week ago, and man, that bastard can really write.  Thanks San Francisco, you made my night.

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