July 2, 2011

I was going to meet MAD commenter Jason Hwang tonight, but he bailed on me at the last minute because he’s super busy this weekend. The reason he’s so frantic is that he’s moving to France this Sunday to be with his wife, the infamous, Zioum Zioum. I know how it goes to uproot yourself and how at the last minute there’s a billion things  to do. It was that way when I moved here and I can’t imagine what it’s like getting ready to move to a new country. Anyway, I just want to take a second and wish them both the best of luck and please keep in touch!

Alright, since I have no plans and it’s the start of a holiday weekend, I thought I’d just shoot some pictures on my way home and maybe stop and have a drink somewhere. No plans, just my camera, my feets and a somewhat powerful thirst! Let's go wandering.

And we're off, we'll travel down 7th Avenue in search of something to do and more importantly, something to drink.

Look at this, a few blocks into the journey and I've stumbled upon a brand new deli on the block called the Green Tomato. Let's check it out.

It's nice and streamlined in here and I can guarantee you there's beer in those coolers.

There's lots of wooden tables in here and the gentlemen behind the counter told me it's open 24 hours. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? Fortress of Solitude number three! I think I'll sit at the table up front with a nice view out the door of the people on parade at the sidewalk.

Gumby's all settled in...

And I've got a giganzo 24 ounce can of Budweiser, so all is well in my world.

It's relaxing in here just drinking beer and watching the world go by outside on the sidewalk.

There goes a hipster couple...

There's a woman talking on a phone and gesturing wildly. At least 75 percent of the people walking by are talking on phones or doing the Zombie text walk. I always wonder what the fuck everybody's talking about.

Fuck, I didn't get a shot of this, but a one-armed man just walked by and made eye contact with me. Whenever I make eye contact with crippled or disfigured people I feel like I've been hexed. I hope I make it home now. One time I was in midtown about five years ago and at the corner of 55th and Broadway a nun in an electric wheelchair whizzed past me and not only made eye contact with me, she scowled at me. I was so freaked out, first of all you rarely see a nun in the oldtime penguin habit, but she was decked out in one from head to toe. And to make matters worse, you know who she looked like? Burt Young, the actor! It took me a couple minutes to figure it out after she had rolled past me, but then it hit me, she was a dead ringer for Burt Young. I remember leaning against a building with chills running down my spine and feeling like I had been hexed for life and I still wonder if I am. I mean, Burt Young as a crippled nun in an electric wheelchair? In midtown? Sheesh!

Okay, enough of creepy memories. The beer is empty and Gumby's getting antsy, so it's off we go.

Further on up the road we go.

This block is always lit up like it's Christmas time, it's a cheery little block in Chelsea.

And smack dab in the middle of the block is Salsa y Salsa. I came here on the bar crawl last year. And now I'm craving a Michelada. Let's go inside.

It's crowded inside, but the bar is wide open, let's go snag a seat.

Hey, there's a familiar face behind the bar...

It's Rubens the bartender who was on duty last year when I was there. He remembered me and after a brief reunion, he set to work making me a Michelada beer cocktail.

The beer is added to the spicy mix, ice is added and...

Rubens serves it up with a smile.

The drink is served with a salted rim and a lime and it's delicious, a great summer cocktail!

And an ebony and ivory hot sauce shot completes the night. Goodnight everybody and see you tomorrow after dark.

Further reading: New York Magazine, Time Out New York and Menu Pages.

You also might like: Ben & Jerry, Stiller & Meara and Ben Stiller.

Four Happy Wanderers Videos and One For JAZ!
New Wave Shmenge
Christmas in Leutonia
The Last Polka (Part 1)
The Shmenge’s on David Letterman

For JAZ!

 

Don't mean nothing, if they're dumping,
Things that sting on you!
Don't take that, honey.

ARCHIVES

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Bonus Photo/Art from Jaws!

Jaws sent in this frightening art! Aaaaahhhhh!

Late Post Alert

It's a holiday weekend and I slept in. Today's post will be up around 4pm. Happy holiday weekend! Enjoy the video and song in the meantime.

July 1, 2011

There’s been rumors floating around that tonight is the last night of the Mars Bar. I was there last week and was assured this wasn’t the truth, but just to be safe, I think that’s going to be tonight’s destination. To be honest, it’ll almost be a relief when the place is finally closed. The end is near and it’s kind of like watching a sick relative die. I’m a little tired of thinking about it and this may just be my last night in Mars Bar whether it stays open or not. Okay, I’m officially depressed now, let’s go to Mars Bar, I need a drink or twelve.

And here we are, I'm only going to take a couple pictures tonight, I've documented this place well and will share some of the photos at the bottom of this post. Tonight I just want to enjoy the Mars Bar one last night and have some drinks. So there's just going to be two more new photos here.

So make it one more for my baby...

And one more for the road.

Mars Bar Memories

Goodbye Mars Bar, thanks for the laughs and for all the nice people I've met in there. To Mars Bar and to all those who lost some brain cells inside the place. I salute you and I will miss you. Cheers, beers and love.

Further reading: EV Grieve, The Gog Log, 365 Bars, Jeremiah’s Vanishing New York and Slum Goddess .

You also might like: Pizza Jesus, Cheeseburger Jesus and Jesus Beer.

Four Drinks You Should Never Order At Mars Bar (Or Any Bar For That Matter)
Fancy Nancy
Rainbow Brite Blowing Sunshine Up Your Butt
Wild Squirrel Sex
Daddy’s Milk

Well, that's how it goes,
And Joe, I know you're getting anxious to close,
So thanks for the cheer,
I hope you didn't mind,
My bending your ear,
So make it one for my baby,
And one more for the road.

ARCHIVES

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Bonus Photo

Here's Danny, who I met last night and agreed to take my photo in the bathroom at Mars Bar. Most bars would frown on you for taking a picture with your pants down while seated on their toilet in front of all the patrons, but at Mars Bar no one even batted an eye as we did this. Only at Mars Bar...only in New York...only for now. Here comes the condominium and the wrecking ball. Look out, here comes tomorrow.

June 30, 2011

I thought I’d write a short story about a friend of mine tonight. First a few photos on the walk home and then the story.

And here we go down 6th Avenue, the familiar walk home.

Holy shitballs...look at the address and then look at the image below! I think I've found the headquarters for Cardboard Box Man! Aaaaaah!

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Julie

Life is is a little kooky, you never know how someone you meet will impact your life. I have a friend named Julie and if the two of us never would have meant our lives would be so different today that it’s kind of weird for me to think about.

Back in the summer of 1992 I got a phone call from a woman who told me she had seen my magazine POP and wanted to know if I was looking for contributing writers. She told me her name was Julie and that she had just moved back to Peoria from California where she had lived for years. She had moved back due to some family issues and was looking for local writing gigs. She was pleasant on the phone and we had a nice conversation. During the course of the phone call we made a date to have lunch.

A few days later we were having lunch at a casual restaurant nearby my aparment complex. Julie’s a pretty, petite blonde, energetic, super smart and had a load of good article ideas for POP. I told her I’d love to have her contribute to the magazine. I then had to confess that I didn’t pay writers anything because I was losing money hand over fist on POP due to a severe lack of advertising. But I told her that there would be very little editing to her writing and no creative restraints as far as articles and ideas went. She agreed to write for free so I picked up the bill for lunch and a friendship had begun.

During the lunch I had asked Julie where else she was writing and she told me she had done a couple articles for the Pekin Daily Times. Pekin is a neighboring town to Peoria and they have their own daily paper. She told me the editors there knew who I was and liked my magazine. She said they were nice guys and I should meet them. I got their names from Julie and called and made an appointment to see Kevin Kaufman who was the managing editor.

Kevin was a lean guy who had a nice disposition. He took me to the editor-in-chief, Kent Davy and introduced me. We had a nice meeting and I started pitching them ideas and soon I was writing freelance articles for their newspaper. While I had been editing and publishing my own magazine for two years, I had never been published by anyone else and having articles in the Pekin Daily Times and getting paid for writing really increased my confidence about my writing skills and ability. I felt like I was really a professional writer.

One afternoon before going in to my night job I stopped by the Pekin Daily Times to turn in an article I had written. I also had some issues of POP hot off the presses and gave some to some of the people in the newsroom, including Kent. Kent was flipping through the issue and asked me the following life-changing question: “Have you ever sent one of these to Dick Stolley out in New York?”

I looked at him quizzically and said, “Who the fuck is Dick Stolley?”

“You want to come over here and sit down for a second?” He asked while pointing to a chair next to his desk.

I went over and sat down and looked at Kent. Kent has a shaggy moustache and kind of looks like the actor Bob Balaban. He had a half-cocked smile on his face and was shaking his head at me.

“You know if I had a dunce cap I’d make you wear it and sit in the corner for an hour, for asking, ‘Who’s Dick Stolley?’” He sarcastically told me.

I slumped in my chair and said, “Are you going to tell me who this Stolley guy is or do I have to stay after school and write 100 times, ‘I don’t know who Dick Stolley is.’”

“You do remember Life magazine, right?” Kent asked me.

“Yeah, I remember Life magazine, who doesn’t?” I shot back.

“Well, Dick Stolley was an editor for Life in the ‘60’s and ‘70’s,” Kent told me.

“Okay,” I fired back still puzzled as to why he would be interested in my magazine.

 He continued to question me interrogation style. “And you’ve created POP magazine, which is kind of a local, wacky version of People magazine, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right. Uh, is there an end to this anywhere down the road?” I asked impatiently. “I gotta get to work, I certainly can’t pay rent with what you pay me.”

Then Kent dropped the bomb.

“Dick Stolley was born and raised in Pekin, Illinois,” Kent told me with a smile. “His first writing job was here at the Pekin Daily Times and he’s now the Editorial Director for all of Time, Inc. He’s one of the biggest and powerful media guys in New York City. I know if you sent him a package with some of your magazines and clippings from this newspaper he’d be impressed and interested. I can almost guarantee you’d hear from him.”

“Holy shitballs, I gotta send this guy a package,” I barked out.

Kent laughed and said, “Get out of here and let me know what happens.”

So I dutifully wrote a letter and sent Dick Stolley a package. A week later I get a letter from him saying he was impressed but was curious as to why I hadn’t been tarred and feathered and ridden out on a rail from Peoria for some of the stuff I had written in POP. It was a nice letter and I was thrilled. He said if I was ever in New York, he’d like to have lunch with me. I’ve written about this before, so to make a long story short, I flew out, had lunch with him and showed him more clippings. I told him I was losing money on my magazine and probably wouldn’t be able to publish another issue. I confessed to him that I was a little confused about what to do next. Then he asked me a magic question.

“Have you ever thought about moving out here to New York? This is the city for a guy like you,” Stolley asked while gears started turning in my gray matter.

I never had thought about moving to New York. I had loved New York since a kid and had visited the city about three times, but when you grow up in Peoria, moving to New York seems about as likely as building a rocketship and flying to Mars. But after I had heard that question I was obsessed about moving to New York.

Again, I’ve written about this before so I’ll explain what happened next in broad strokes. I found out I could cash in my pension plan from my night job and get a decent chunk of dough, I sold my car, my furniture, my TV, my stereo, my records, most of my clothes and put in notice at work. I flew to New York for a week and found a little apartment on the Upper West Side. I bought a one-way plane ticket and was all set to become a New Yorker. I was flying out on July 7th, 1993. I was 35-years-old and It was probably the most exciting time of my life.

At the beginning of July I had a going away party at my apartment. Most of the people who had worked on POP magazine with me for the last three years were there and a lot of my friends showed up. Julie was there and I noticed her talking for quite a while with my friend, Bob Gordon.

Most people know Bob by his nickname of “Boots,” but I call him “Homer.” It’s a long story, so don’t ask. I’ve known Homer since I was in high school. I was curious as to what Homer and Julie would be talking about because, while they’re both great people, they seemed like opposites to me. Homer is kind of a beer drinking, down to earth, sports kind of guy and Julie’s more of a pop arts and cultural person. After about ten beers I didn’t think much more about it. The party went on until the wee small hours of the morning and the memories of it are fuzzy at best.

The next day I was hungover and it felt like there was a hatchet in my head. I was picking up beer cans all over my soon to be vacant apartment. The phone rang and it was my friend Bob Gordon a.k.a. Homer.

We shot the shit for a few minutes and then he told me he thought Julie was real nice and wondered if I’d give him her phone number so he could ask her out.

“Jesus Christ, she’s a good friend of mine, do you think I want her going out with an animal like you?” I jokingly asked him.

“Fuck you asshole, just give me the number. You’re moving to New York, you’ll probably be dead in a week, so what do you care?” He joked back.

I told him I felt weird just giving him the number, I told him I’d call Julie and see if it was okay. I think Homer called me a pussy and I told him I’d call him back.

So I called Julie and it kind of took her by surprise. She said she wasn’t sure because she didn’t really know him. I vouched for Homer and told Julie I’ve been friends with him since I was a kid and the worst thing I ever saw him do was throw a pickle halfway across McDonalds and have it land smack-dab in the middle of some asshole’s forehead and stick there. And yes, that asshole was me! So she agreed, I called Homer and gave him the number and then continued cleaning while nursing my hangover.

A week later I was on a plane bound for New York City, my new home.

About a year later, Homer and Julie got married. They’ve got three kids now.

I always wonder what our lives would be like if we never met each other. It kind of scares the shit out of me. One thing is for sure, I probably never would’ve moved to New York, so this blog never would’ve happened and most of us never would’ve known each other. Pretty fucking weird when you think about it.

Further reading: Free Dictionary, Amazon, IMDb and Smoking Hot Waitress.

You also might like: Mony Mony, Sugar Sugar and Jimmy Jimmy.

Four Other Julie’s
Julie Newmar
Julie Driscoll
Julie of the Jungle
Julie Kavner

 

It's lucy in the sky and all kinds of apple pie,
She giggles at the screen 'cos it looks so green.

ARCHIVES

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June 29, 2011

Alright, last Tuesday I went out in search of a swizzle stick and for Uncle Waltie, a commenter here and at various other blogs and the man behind the curtain of the International Bar Blog. Sadly, he wasn’t there. I’ve dropped some subtle as a mallot hints on this blog all through the week, that I'd be coming back this Tuesday so let’s if we can find the elusive Uncle Waltie tonight. And besides, this is just too good of an excuse to go to the International Bar two weeks in a row, I didn’t have that luxury last year!

Okay, we'll be taking the F train to the East Village tonight, so it's down we go into the bowels of the Manhattan subway system.

Shit, a train just pulled out of the stop, looks like we'll be waiting awhile. Oh well.

Here comes a train...

But it's the M train...are you seeing this Gene? Where were you when we needed you! (You had to be there folks!)

And after a half an hour, the F train arrives. I think the F stands for Fucking Finally it's here.

And through the magic of the internet, here we are on 1st Avenue. Just a few blocks to go and we're at the International Bar.

Hello.

And here we are at the International Bar. I love the gold leaf logo in the window here.

If you were with us last week, you'll remember Jason on the right who's here with his friend Damian. In addition to working at the International Bar, Jason is a guitarist and a member of CABB. Check them out here: CABB on facebook.

Hooray, here's the lovely and friendly Molly behind the bar...but where's Uncle Waltie?

Well he's right here! Uncle Waltie and I with Sip Ahoy sign balloons. (Please note that "Sip Ahoy" is a patented Uncle Waltie catchphrase, use only with permission!)

Molly joins in on the Sip Ahoy action!

And here's Michael, who I met at P.J. Clarke's last year on the bar crawl! It is indeed a small world, but as Stephen Wright once said, I'd hate to have to paint it.

Sebastian has some great Uncle Waltie stories, but you have to come to the International Bar to here them, I'll never tell!

John made his own sign declaring himself, "Out Of Order." I can identify with that. Shortly after this picture John burst into a one man show of the Mulberry Monologues. It was entertaining and frightening all at the same time. Well worth the price of admission!

Here's the pretty Fatou posing with the Sip Ahoy sign at the bar.

And here's Lydia, looking lovely while waiting for a drink. Sip Ahoy!

And a final shot of the lovely Lydia, the elusive Uncle Waltie and half of Gumby.

Sip Ahoy and see you all tomorrow after dark.

International Bar
120 1/2 First Avenue (Near 7th St.)
212-777-1643

Further reading: Jeremiah’s Vanishing New York, EV Grieve, Shecky’s and Time Out New York.

You also might like: Neon, Freon and Leon.

Four International Men
Austin Powers
International Man of Leather
Linley Edwards
Uncle Waltie

I've been a long lost soul,
For a long, long time.

ARCHIVES

(Surprise link...click on it...I dare you!)

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Bonus Link Sent In From Tim “Clacky” Clack!

Aaaaahhh! (Wait until about 2:02 into the video.)

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Bonus Sip Ahoy Word Balloons from Jaws!

Jaws made these custom-made word balloons for my next meeting with Uncle Waltie! Thanks Jaws and Sip Ahoy!

June 28, 2011

Okay, I had a big day/night yesterday at the Chillmaster Dance Party II, so tonight I thought I’d take it somewhat easy and just wander around the West Village and snap photos of neon, signs and maybe a person or two. A totally unplanned night, let’s go see what happens.

Usually I go somewhere and just shoot tons of photos and hope I can make a little movie of the night in static photos here, quality be damned, it's the story that counts. Tonight I thought I'd take ten photos and really try to make them decent and pay attention to composition and all that jazz. And I'm just doing one take for each photo, so here goes what will probably be nothing, but I have to go to work early tomorrow, so it's off we go. I call this one, Deja View from the liquor store on 12th street and 6th Avenue.

Cocktails from Charlie Mom restaurant on 12th and 6th.

Creepy baby alert in a baby store on 10th between 6th and Greenwich Avenue.

The Layfayette French Pastry store on Greenwich Avenue near 10th Street. They sell ice cream cakes and logs. Logs?

The Waverly Diner on the corner of Waverly and 6th. I've had 7,934 grilled cheese sandwiches in here and uncountable beers. It's a good diner.

Here's Wolfson who was enjoying some French Fries on a stoop on W. 4th Street.

Vogue magazines on 7th Avenue South near Bleecker Street.

Marilyn Monroe behind bars on 7th Avenue South.

Joe's Pizza on Carmine between Bleecker and 6th. Okay one more shot to go, let's see if we can find a friendly face to end it all up.

Aaaaahhh!

Further reading and watching: New York Magazine, Grub Street, Joe’s Pizza and The Happy Wanderers.

You also might like: Chocolate Chips, CHiPs and Chip.

Five People With West For A Last Name
Adam West
Leslie West
Billy West
Mae West
Kanye West

 

Cuz love comes in spurts,
In dangerous flirts,
And it murders your heart,
They didn't tell you that part.

ARCHIVES

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Bonus Links to Photos From The Chillmaster Dance Party II!
Here’s some photos from Sunday’s Chillmaster Dance Party II at some other fine blogs from fellow friends and Chillers:
One More Folded Sunset
Neither More Nor Less
The Gog Log
Slum Goddess

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(Update) Bonus Photos From the Home of Jaws!

A couple months ago when I put up a post from my Fortress of Solitude, Papaya Dog, I wrote that the first person to comment would get one of the pieces of art that was featured. Jaws won, but I'm so shitty at mailing stuff out and I've been so busy it took me months to get them to him. Well I'm happy to say I finally mailed them and included a Joan Jett drawing as well as a copy of Natalie Word as bonus gifts for being so slow to get them. I'm honored that Jaws framed them and the artwork is hanging on his walls. Below are the pictures Jaws sent in and the last one is Jaws and Natalie Word, together at last! If you'd like to hang some artwork from Jaws, check out his storefront here: Jaws the Cabbie Online Store.

June 27, 2011

(Above photo by Goggla.)

Today is Sunday and a special day. The day can be summed up in four words: Chillmaster Dance Party Two! (If you missed the first one, check it out: Chillmaster Dance Party One.)

We're all going to meet at the Mars Bar as we did last time. I wonder if we'll be able to meet here for the third one? Sadly, that's doubtful, but time will tell. There's the owner Hank seated out front as usual, I've got a present for him...

It's a poster of the collage I did for the art show at Mars Bar the other week.

And here we are inside Mars. Where is everybody?

There's Lindsay and Shawn, right behind me.

And pretty soon the whole group is assembled. From left, Shawn, Yours Fooly, Lindsay, Ray, Goggla and Eric. Time to head to the Chillmaster's and get this party going!

And here we are at the famous Chillmaster window...but wait a second, that's not the Chillmaster...

It's Chillmaster's son, Chillmaster, Jr. He explained that Chillmaster had to run out for a minute, but we were welcome to go in and wait till he got back. So that's exactly what we did.

An empty Chillmaster chair. Now that's one sad sight!

A couple late additions to the party were Bob...

And Eden A.K.A. Slum Goddess who's taking a picture of Bob. Eden sings and plays in Eden & John's East River String Band. Check them out here and buy a CD or two.

And here he is, the Chillmaster himself! The Hennessy is poured...(Above photo by Goggla.)

And the chilling begins.

I brought the Chillmaster a baby Jesus candle, he lights it up...

And into the window it goes.

Part of the fun of hanging out at the Chillmaster's is watching the world go by his window.

People look in...

And they almost always smile!

Another late addition is Kate, who's chilling with the Chillmaster.

Even Gumby is chilling the fuck out.

This is a Chillmaster DANCE party, so the Chillmaster points the remote control...

And sweet soul music is blaring out of the massive Chillmaster sound system. Everybody dance now!

Here's Lily, the Chillmaster's pretty neighbor, she immediately got into the groove.

Lily, Lindsay and Goggla chill out on the couch.

Night's fallen and the party is winding down.

This man gives his regards to the Chillmaster from out in the street.

Empty bottles and glasses are the sign of the end of another successful Chillmaster Dance Party. See you tomorrow after dark.

When you enter the Chillmaster Lair all cares and worries are checked at the door as you enter a world of soul music blasted at deafening levels while watching the world parade by outside on the sidewalk throught the Chillmaster window. It’s a glorious time where inhibitions are dropped and life becomes one big why the fuck not?

Thanks to the Chillmaster for throwing another great Dance party and for all the fellow Chillers for showing up.

And thanks to EV Grieve for a wonderful blog and the post that started this whole thing!

Further reading: EV Grieve, The Gog Log, One More Folded Sunset, Neither More Nor Less and Single Linds Reflex.

You might also like: Ice Cubes, Iced Coffee and Ice T.

Four Other Chill Things
Alaska
Meat Lockers
Chili con carne
Chile

I’m a soul man!

ARCHIVES

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Bonus Photos from Shawn!

Shawn sent in three excellent shots he took yesterday and here they are. Thanks, Shawn!

June 26, 2011

Live from New York, it’s Cheeseburger Saturday Night! Starring Whitmans and special guest stars, two thirds of the BBC, Gene and Smoopy! And featuring the ready for prime beef player, Marty Wombacher. Ladies and gentlemen please welcome Whitman’s, Gene and Smoopy!

Okay, off to meet Gene and Smoopy at Whitmans, the home of my favorite New York City cheeseburger. It's closing in on 9PM and it's still light out, one of the few things I hate about summer. It's too bright!

I'm running a little late so I flagged a cab to get there quicker.

Okay, it's just around the corner from here.

Told you so, here it is!

And look who's outside, the cute and lovely Claire who you should remember from last time I was here.

And through the magic of the internet, here she is behind the counter.

And she happily serves up an ice-cold Genesee, time to find Gene and Smoopy.

And here they are at a table up front, Gene and Smoopy, two thirds of the BBC! I'm starting to wonder whatever happened to the third BBC member, Terry. Terry if you're out there and still alive, let us know! Some of us are worried about you!

And here we are, together again performing the time-honored tradition of the wearin' of the Genesee while Smoopy tells us to quit acting like idiots.

Okay time to order. Gene and I got the infamous Juicy Lucy burger and Smoopy got a swiss cheeseburger. I took shots of them, but they didn't turn out so use your imagination.

But here's a shot of my Juicy Lucy burger! I swear this is the best cheeseburger in New York City! Delicious!

For the sides we got the homemade potato chips and sweet potato fries.

Burp.

Okay, out the door for a nightcap.

We decided to continue the Lucy theme and have a drink at Lucy's. One of the best bars in the East Village.

Inside I see a familiar face.

Lucy! She remembered me from when I was in here for the 365 bar crawl and posed for this photo with me. One of the sweetest ladies ever!

Smoopy and Gene's tongues are wagging.

And after a couple drinks it's time to call it a night. Thanks to Gene and Smoopy for stopping by and we'll see you all tomorrow after dark.

My Meal
I had the same meal I had when I came here the first time, The Juicy Lucy and the homemade potato chips. It was just as good as that one and you can read about here: Original review of Whitmans.

Cheeseburger Rating:
4 Wimpys, the best there is!

Whitmans
406 E. 9th St. (Near 1st Ave.)
212-228-8011

Further reading: Always Hungry, DMANBURGER, facecrack and Twitter.

You also might like: Paper Towels, Paper Roses and Paper Lion.

Four Other Whitmans
Slim Whitman
Walt Whitman
Walt Whitman High School (Room 222)
Whitman’s Chocolates

My girl had told us that she was,
A niece of Walt Whitman.

ARCHIVES

(Surprise link...click on it...I dare you!)