"so what's next?" is the most inane party question. it seems that once a reputation for leading thrilling and unconventional life has been established, it must be kept up, like the plucking of unwanted eyebrow hair. sure, you can wear neon green leg warmers or drive a motorcycle into a pool just once and your feats will be immortalized.

people will not forget how the neighbors' pool had to be drained and the crane brought in, how the water-logged bmw sat in the yard, rusting for several weeks before the french exchange student bought it for parts for a tenth of the price you paid. you don't have to run another goddamn thing into a pool again.
but invent, book, produce, star in, coddle, merchandise, tour, feed, and generally run a circus for a year, and everybody–friend, fan or critic–needs to know, "what's next?" well, i took a few months off, and when i want you to know what's next, believe me: you'll know…