Occasionally we find that celebrities are people too, and sometimes they'll surprise us by actually being way less awful than we'd suspect but not Andy Warhol, he was as awful as everyone thinks.
The white haired oddball once declared that in the future, everybody would be famous for 15 minutes and mine did bring me lasting fame but not for the right reasons.
My $80,000 trust fund was spent promoting Warhol’s art projects, Warhol hadn’t really been paying attention to who’d been picking up the bill, but my association with him and people like Bob Dylan bought me fame but Bob did warn me what would become of me if i didn't get away from Warhol but by then i had got myself a nice, shiny drug habit and a dose of kleptomania to pay for it. I became known for stealing from stores, family, and friends alike.
In my younger days i had spent time in various institutions due to mental health issues and after a night of cocaine, speed and heroin, i ended up back in one after running naked around New York.
I met my husband in there, Michael Brett Post, a postal worker with mental issues himself and a mental institution may not be the healthiest place to meet your future husband but it was only for a short time and the magnolia's in my wedding bouquet were also used to adorn my funeral casket just a few short months later after a party at fashion designer Michael Novarese's house.
At the party, i had my palm read, only for the palm reader to tell me i had an incredibly short life line but not as short as i expected because the next morning the coroner was scribbling 'accident/suicide from alcohol and barbiturates' on my death certificate.
In life, i got short-changed during my allotted time of fame but my light shone bright for that 15 minutes but i'm not bitter, now who's going to help me lift this TV and DVD Player from Lucy's place.
No comments:
Post a Comment