Andy kaufman never once did a Bowie impersonation.

-i had been drinking to much and everything was falling and i couldnt catch anything so i ended up falling too. or at least thats what i think he said, but his lips were puffy and swollen with blood and i think most of his teeth were loose too, so it came out gargled and wet and indecipherable. still, thats what it sounded like he said and it didnt make any sense, because thats not what happened at all.

what happened was he had been kicked in the head by a Mime, and it was an impressive, American Ninja style roundhouse kick too, with a full leg extension and solid face to foot connection. the reason he had gotten kicked was partly my fault, i should at least admit that. well ok, actually it was all my fault.

see, i always picked on this particular mime. he always stood in front of the same statue in Washington Square park and the frustration his face showed when trapped in a glass box or the elation he emoted when pulling himself along an imaginary rope just annoyed the shit out of me. so i would just stand in front of him and ask what it was he was trying to say. -what? i dont understand! what are you saying? i cant hear you! i see youre making faces but i dont understand what your saying! what are you doing? are you supposed to be going down an escalator or something? whats going on? why wont you just talk to me?!?

and so on and so forth. but the thing is, its not as if anyone is particularly fond of mimes so i didnt think i was doing anything out of order. i dont even think mimes like mimes. they even annoy themselves. and they're commonly regarded as losers. the absolute last person you want to interact with. mimes are at the lowest rungs of pedestrian society. im sure this has been documented by sociologis at some point. its fairly obvious that everyone loathes mimes. take this scene for instance:

Scene: High School dance being held in a gymnasium filled with hindreds of teenagers. the only two girls not dancing are one blond and one brunette. the only guys not dancing are one hobo that snuck in from the rain and a mime.

Blond: I get the Hobo!
Brunette: shit!

see, by that brief teleplay you can clearly grasp how despised the mime is by all walks of society. and by all walks of society i mean myself and teenage girls. mimes are an urban nuisance. they are like pigeons accept when you kick at them they dont fly away they just stand there and stare at you with that stupid silent mime look on their face and fake like they are crying or some shit, which makes you want to kick them even more.

so as me and my friend were walking through Washington Square park on the way to the east village to pick up some smack for a sick russian hooker locked in my basement i see the mime standing there and decide to fuck with him a little. the mime though, apparently, had had enough of my shenanigans.

his turned around to me angrily. he didnt say anything per se, but you could tell from the way his face contorted in mock fury and by his sharp, violent gestures that he was pretty fucking pissed off. he ran towards me and jumped up, twisting in the air as his leg spread out into attack mode. surprisingly enough my reactions were pretty good and i ducked. my friend, unfortunately, didnt, and got caught by a stiff mime ankle in the cheek. i guess the mime got pretty excited that he actually connected and gave my friend a few more swift kicks to the face while he was on the ground, not realizing that he was beating down the wrong person. when he realized what he had done, he looked around nervously then fled swift and silently into the park like a doe into the wood. i was left with my friend who was stunned with pain and mumbling how he was drunk how everything was falling and how he was falling too.

not knowing what to do i picked him up and told him what really happened. -nah dude, you arent drunk. your not drunk at all. you just got kicked in the head by a fucking mime! a mime dude!

and then i laughed and laughed. fucking mimes, what a bunch of assholes. i wonder whatever happened to that russian hooker?

Andy Kaufman is alive and has a blog that is dead. Fresh has had enough with the g-unit, and when you arent trying to control your obsession with ms. bees knees, kill your time with some funk 45s.