Holly Woodlawn is dead. We were friends. I represented and helped edit/develop her autobiography, A LOW LIFE IN HIGH HEELS, written with Jeff Copeland, who also was estranged from her at the time of her death. Holly was a valuable commodity in terms of her personage, and I am worried that toward the end of her life, she was surrounded by psychophants and users. She was kind, generous to a fault, and surprisingly fair. I am so grateful I knew her as well as I did; and am truly sorry we lost touch. R.I.P.
Arguing for my independence with my trust lords has gotten really old, really fast. See, I’m like a poor man’s Brittany Spears: all my money is in a special needs trust, dispensed as need be by my Trustees: Gil Roth and Peter Johnson. Gil, I’ve been friends with since St. John’s. Peter does this for a living, & cuts me a world of always legal and ethical slack. More tomorrow. Nighty-night.
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