The Pink House was like an underground United Nations. Chapel Hill's aspiring artists, musicians, poets, DJ's, activists, actors, writers, nudists, flutists, knuckleheads, and couch-surfers, all living together in (relative) harmony, united by their common bohemianism. Life inside the Pink House often consisted of weird shit happening at all hours, every day, it rarely stopped. And there's something about that place that won't allow the vibe to ever fully dissipate. / PinkHouseForever.org
Wednesday, September 11, 1996
Could you tape Clint's Stabbing Westward video?
Hey Erik,
How are you? Everything here in New York is just great.
Give Jenny, Jay, and N'gai my love.
Please write soon.
P.S. If you get a chance to could you tape Clint's video for me.
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