It’s not about the money. It’s about spending the time. A friend once gave me the three-volume set of John Simon’s criticism. That’s hard to top. Another friend gave me a Poor Pitiful Pearl doll. She has a flowered dress and a peasant scarf and looks like Nikita Khrushchev’s wife. She’s a Communist. One Christmas, Dennis Dermody, the movie critic of Paper, gave me “Rock Hudson: A Gathering of Friends,” the master invitation list from Rock Hudson’s memorial service. It’s so great. Everyone’s in it, with personal addresses all bound into a book. Someone else once gave me Ike Turner’s will. I get great stuff.
Are there gifts that got away?
I would love to get Visconti’s ascot, and I’ve been trying for years to get Brigid Berlin to give me a prescription bottle of Obetrol, Andy Warhol’s diet pills.
Is there a John Waters version of a lump of coal?
The rudest possible gift is a gift card. It means you think the person is stupid and has no interests. The only good gift card is Bitcoin. You practically have to be a hacker to know about it. I want a Bitcoin gift certificate. That’s a glamorous gift card. You can use it to buy hit men or drugs.
What kind of gifts do you give?
I always give books. And I always ask for books. I think you should reward people sexually for getting you books. Don’t send a thank-you note, repay them with sexual activity. If the book is rare or by your favorite author or one you didn’t know about, reward them with the most perverted sex act you can think of. Otherwise, you can just make out...
Season's Greetings, With A Wink. New York Times.
Via Chase Madar - whose book, The Passion Of Bradley Manning, would make a great Xmas gift. x
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