Black Rebel Motorcycle Club Ask iAN * iAN goes to Warhol’s Factory

Ask iAN

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Ask iAN * iAN goes to Warhol’s Factory


Well Nikki....

  It was back in 1965 and I was flat fuckun' broke.  I looked cool in mah alligator penny loafers and my hair was quite suave...but i had not only been mugged by some bruisers from da Bronx, but i spent my last 10 dollars on a lucky horse shoe diamond ring, a pack of condoms and a bottle of Thunderbird.  I was walkin the streets trying to sell my weenie for some chump change when I bumped into Joe Dallesandro...he was quite the hunk back then and to tell ya the truth i think he felt sorry for me and he took me under his balls, I'd say wings, but lil' Joe was no angel (wink,wink).

We stopped off at some motel and Joe bumped into some porky geezers who wanted to blow our whistles for 25 bucks a toke and it was ON.  The old fellas led us to a room and we walked in and dropped our drawers.  Joe's session was over in less than 4 minutes and he and the other fella went outside, Joe sayin' he'd meet me out front.

2 hours later, i left the room with 25 bucks in mah front pocket and one sore thumbdick...that porky rascal drank me like a coca cola...i can still see his fat sweaty head doing push ups on my tonk...funky bastard.

Joe said he knew some girls that had a flat that we could get cleaned up at and get ready for the night...said he was taking me to Andy Warhol's Silver Factory...i was thrilled...but i told Joe that first we needed to get me some new duds as i was lookin' like a skidrow shitbag...we found me some real swell duds ( lil' Joe didn't dig 'em )  and then picked up some booze and made our way to the flat.

The place was rather small...not much furniture and i never met the girls...they must've been out doing laundry, tryin' to score or buyin' record albums...hell, i dunno.  Joe sat on the bed and began to shoot up a horse load of smack into the vein of his dick.  I fainted and Joe said later that i hit my head on a huge plant that was in the window.  I had a bump on my forehead from hitting my face on the floor and it was about the size of a medium orange.  Like a third fuckun' eye!  Right in the center of my forehead!  How in the hell was i gonna pick up a chick with that unicorn ballsac on my forehead?
Just my luck.
Just my fuckun' Luck.

Joe nodded off for a few hours and I drank the bourbon and tried to keep a cold rag on my third eye...these people were either too lazy or two pinned and zonked on the horse to fill up their cracked ice trays....just my luck..then it got dark.

We headed out at around 10 pm.  Made our way to the fifth floor at 231 East 47th Street in Midtown Manhattan. Once inside i nearly pissed in my new monochrome bellbottoms...nothin' but freaks...everywhere!  There was some band dronin' on and i couldn't make out a damn thing...the walls were silver and psychedelique lights sparkled and zoomed throughout the whole joint...I was a little tipsy but this place made me feel a little nauseated at first...I caught my breath, had another hit off the bourbon and began to feel better...Joe had taken off on me and so i just began to socialize...
Some girl with a giganto afro walked by and gave me a really funky I was the creature from the black lagoon...I didn't know what the hell her problem was so I just walked along..and then a few other freaks walked by and gave me the same strange look...I just kept drinkin'. 

I found the bathroom and went in to put some water on my was quite warm in there..then in the mirror, i realized why everyone was lookin' at me like Jack the Ripper.  The Goddamned Bump!  The fucker had really, really swelled up!  I had a motherfuckun' hunchback growing out of my forehead!  Perfect...fuckun' perfect....

I went back outside and the first thing i did was sucker punch some hippy and knocked him cold.  He was alone in a corner smokin' a joint and i just cold cracked him...I didn't dislike him...I NEEDED his hat.

So there i was...standing nearly six foot five.  I had platform shoes with 8 inch heels, I had monochrome bellbottoms, I had on a black t shirt with glitter simmered into it, a scarf around my neck, a floppy hippy hat and a pair of tube socks rolled up and stuffed down the front of my slacks to give off a really huge fact it stuck out so far that i actually knocked a couple of drinks over with it....i've always been a klutz...

I don't know how it happened but somebody slipped me a pimpload of Acid.  Could have been on a finger sandwich i found on the ground that I scarfed down, could have been dumped in mah drink when i wasn't lookin'...hell, somebody could have poured it down the crack of my Ass and I would have thought it was sweat....

Everything got really zippy....really zippy.
I bumped into Lou Reed and knocked his glasses off...I made a pass at Edie and nearly poked her eye out when i tried to steal a kiss from her and poked her in the eye with my hunchback forehead, then Billy Name wisked me away from her and I walked up to Andy Warhol...poured some cocaine somebody sold me all over the top of his wig and tried to sniff it off.  A small group of people grabbed me and began to hall me away...
I had Andy Warhol's wig stuffed up my nostril (somebody yanked it out after a few minutes and gave it back to weeping Andy) my stolen hat I had lost in the scuffle, my t shirt was torn revealing my chunky nipples and the tubesock had made it's way under my balls and up my backside making me look like a 7 foot baby with a diaper load in monochrome of my heels had torn off from my platform shoes...and they threw me out on the dirty sidewalk...with a 3rd eye hunchback skull full of Acid. 

I limped down the street...High, low..High, low...i looked like a peg legged i broke the other heel off and walked flat footed again.  I found some money still left in my pocket and bought a bottle of Thunderbird...don't remember where I crashed out at that night...all I know is that a day later...there were crabs on my balls.

The was a happenin' place...even though i was 86'd for life...never allowed to go inside again....

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