I am an insatiable reader, overly caffeinated, and incorrigible smoker.
1) Native Son
2) Moby Dick
3) Of Mice and Men
4) Autobiography of Malcolm X
5) Fires on the Plain
Movies: Half Nelson, Five Easy Pieces, Ghostdog, Blade Runner, Yojimbo, The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly; Romeo is Bleeding, Leon, Predator, The Crying Game, Die Hard, The Killer, Hard Boiled, Alien, Aliens, Seven Samurai, Hamlet, Sweet and Lowdown, Barry Lyndon, One False Move, Devil in a Blue Dress, Apacalypto, The Player, LA Story, Dark City
Music: Kool Keith, Del the funky homosapien, The RZA, Black Moth Super Rainbow, Stereolab, Ultramagnetic MCs, Eric B. and Rakim.
I'm a big fan of rappers with lisps. If I were ever to become a rapper (don't worry), I would definitely seek the council of a speech therapist in an attempt to somehow gain a lisp. There is nothing better than hearing The Rza rap about "Gween Cheawees" (Green Cherries) or the Death Rapper and precocious retard, Necro, gloat in his east New York lisp about the number of "sthluts on his peniths". Follow my advice and keep room in your ipod for at least one rapper with a lisp, be it Ice-T, The Rza, Kool G Rap or Necro.
Food: Spinach, Salad, Tofu, Blueberries, Soy Crisps, lolli pops.
2) Coffee. When I'm not working, I typically find myself at coffee houses. It isn't unreasonable for me to drink 6-7 cups a day.
3) Cigarettes. I've been smoking cigarettes for just over seven years. Though, in all fairness, I don't think I quite deserved the moniker of "smoker" until I reached the age of nineteen. The first cigarette I ever smoked was a filtered lucky strike which I had stolen from my brother's secret pack hidden in the upstairs bathroom medicine cabinet. I was still living in Pennsylvania at the time; I was twelve or thirteen. I opened the window by my bed and sat myself on the ledge and lit up. I don't think I ever inhaled the thing...Just a lot of puffing and masquerading. Anyway, growing bored, I tossed the half-smoked cigarette out the window onto the backyard grass. While closing the window I panicked. I recalled that my brother always flushed his butts. Did I just unknowingly spark a fire that would eventually lead to a smoldering wreck of a house charred and ruined? I quickly opened the window and stared out into darkness. Nothing. Still I wasn't convinced. I must have stared out at that god damned backyard for hours, waiting for the first blade of grass to go up. I didn't touch a cigarette for years after that, until I moved to Rochester and made the acquaintance of one of my neighbors who I remember called me a bitch the first time I ever coughed from inhaling a cigarette, a Marb Light. I smoke one pack (twenty cigarettes) a day, which I'm told is about average -- personally I find that hard to believe. I could write about my relationship to cigarettes all day -- even in my fiction writing a cigarette always makes a cameo -- but I'll just stop here.
5) The beautiful interplay between rain-soaked streets and neon lights.
Also, I never learned how to ride a bike.