SK8! Page Ten!
Too much to do over the next few days, so I'm posting this one early and then returning to it on Sunday. That's the plan anyway.
2008's almost over everyone - hang tight.
I remember doing this page in my little apartment in SoHo (nee the South Village). The apartment was 210 square feet, if you included the square footage of the bathroom, and it was like living in Sodom. There were no household department stores within 40 blocks of where we lived, so there was a distinct lack of curtains in our neighborhood. Every Friday night, like clockwork, the guy who lived diagonally across the alleyway and down a floor, who had hung a southern rebel flag in his window, would plop himself naked on his couch in front of the window and dive into a two hour long onanastic frenzy. My upstairs neighbor was a chef and would get home at 4am. The bed we had was on a loft-like structure in the 9' x 6' bedroom and I could touch the ceiling if I just raised up my hand. It was on that ceiling, and on the chef's futon on the floor that he would pound away at whatever waitress he dragged home. I hear them, as they were two feet from my head, and I could feel them by touching the ceiling. The only good (to my mind) entertainment was a beautiful girl who lived diagonally across from the bathroom alleyway and needed to do it with the lights on.
Matt sez:
"Again that neo-Roman influence is seen in the gladiator inspired police uniforms. I think it looks way cool but I must admit the CCP (Century City Police), an all-too obvious allusion to Soviet Russia is a tad heavy handed, even for me."
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