WE JUST NEED A MAN - ww4m - (*******)
Me and my best friend just got home from the bar. IT'S OUR BIRTHDAY!!! We've been besties since we were 3 years old and we both just turned 21! We had a great time but we don't have boyfriends so we spent all day being each others. And now we're all hot n' bothered :p
We've never done anything like this before but we're really horny and just need a guy to help guide us and show us what to do. We have roommates, so we'll have to come to you. This IS FOR REAL. No constant emails back and forth. Send yo digits in the first email!
d/d free of course!
pic4pic
First cum/first served
We're waiting ;)
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Classified Ads You'll Never Read #2
Over and Done With (45) - m4f - (Addison)
"This has never happened to me before."Heard this before?
We'll I've said it before. Everytime actually. Done with lying and the shame. love 2 fuck! just not very good. Usually can last about two minutes, five if she's on top. Do have good recovery and love 2 eat the kitty!
D/D free, you be too.
Don't bother emailing to make fun of me. I've heard it all.
"This has never happened to me before."Heard this before?
We'll I've said it before. Everytime actually. Done with lying and the shame. love 2 fuck! just not very good. Usually can last about two minutes, five if she's on top. Do have good recovery and love 2 eat the kitty!
D/D free, you be too.
Don't bother emailing to make fun of me. I've heard it all.
Classified Ads You'll Never Read
Misery Loves Company - m4f- (Long Beach)
Puny goth seeking partner. I look alright, tall, average build, Was a natural blonde but I dye. But it's not my outsides you should be concerned about. Inside I'm emotionally cold and I'm looking for someone to share that with. Most of my time is spent in self-wallowing pity, mostly because I don't have a girlfriend. I'd like to have a girlfriend but don't want to find anything else to do. I'm really into being sad right now, so if your prone to being jolly or joyful GO SOME PLACE ELSE!!!
But if your looking for a place where you can be in a relationship that will offer no support whatsoever besides the fact that we'll be able to tell people we're seeing someone and the occasional hate fuck then I'm your guy.
d/d prefered.
Pic4Pic.
Posers don't bother..I can spot a faker a mile away.
Puny goth seeking partner. I look alright, tall, average build, Was a natural blonde but I dye. But it's not my outsides you should be concerned about. Inside I'm emotionally cold and I'm looking for someone to share that with. Most of my time is spent in self-wallowing pity, mostly because I don't have a girlfriend. I'd like to have a girlfriend but don't want to find anything else to do. I'm really into being sad right now, so if your prone to being jolly or joyful GO SOME PLACE ELSE!!!
But if your looking for a place where you can be in a relationship that will offer no support whatsoever besides the fact that we'll be able to tell people we're seeing someone and the occasional hate fuck then I'm your guy.
d/d prefered.
Pic4Pic.
Posers don't bother..I can spot a faker a mile away.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
I am An Island Part 2
Day 2
I wake up exactly as I knew I would except in addition I also feel like someone has punched me straight in the gut. A Hot shower, turned cold shower, turned Sauna kind of wakes me up. I tell myself that today I am going to be productive. Then after an hour I ask myself....How?
Before I know it I'm throwing on my running shoes and gym shorts and out the door. A good run will make me feel good. I want to take it easy so I don't set the bar high on this first run, but I already know that I'll be doing more of it. So I run around a LA block, which is the equvilant of a maybe an 800 meter dash. By the time I'm standing outside of my house. I'm exhausted. Too many cigarettes. I rememeber that time that Joe Bill had his hand on my chest as i tried to sing.
"You smoke?"
"No"
"Don't ever start."
I guess I showed him. Once inside I do a little stretch down and start eating. 3 waffles, a banana, and one of those power bars I stole. Feeling good. It takes me an hour to write the post I posted yesterday. Then my internet gives out and I lose everything. So I have to write it again. I don't. Instead I pop in Raising Arizona again and start scraping the bowl for Res. I also get together all of my stems, grind them up into a fine powder. And smoke that. Not my finest hour. But needed to be done. Once I have enough res to consist a good time, i try to smoke it and it goes right through the hole and disappears. I try shaking it out of the mouth hole. Then try tapping it out with a lighter.
tap.
tap. tap.
tap. tap. shake.
tap. tap. shake. TAP.
tap. tap. SHAKE. TAP. TAP. "COME ON DAMNIT". TAP.
CRACK
The bowl explodes open and becomes immediately unuseable. FUCK.
I get up and write the post again. And by that time it's already the afternoon. I make myself a quick lunch and then decide to go on a walk.
I take my ipod with me and 6 dollars in quarters. Before I do my walk I stop off by the 711 and buy a pack of Camel crushes in quarters. It comes to 5.76. I give the arab guy behind the counter my change which turns out to be only five dollars in quarters. Thank god for that emergency dollar in my pocket.
When I leave, I check my pants for a lighter and find the other four quarters. This only upsets me because i could have given him those 3 quarters, and a take a penny. Kept my 1.25 and bought a jug of water as well. But live and learn.
Besides from seeing a pretty asian girl with a bag that read "I heart me". The walk was just a walk. I spent it listening to CSNY which is GREAT walking music.
No the walk didn't get interesting until I hit sunset and was given a free admission to the psychiatry an industry in death musuem. Now, usually i wouldn't have gone in there. But I had just finished listening to This American Life podcast the other day. One of the stories was about a man who had been in Bedlhem Asylum for 12 years. Bedlhem is where London sends all of it's serial killers and multiple rapists and pedies. This guy who they called "tony' had been in the asylum for 12 years, his offense was simple assault. But he wanted to avoid prison time, so he faked being crazy. And now he can't get out. Fucking terrifying stuff.
Anyway, needless to say the idea that shrinks were actually pure evil had been rolling around in my head and so I saw this as nothing more than a furthering of my research.
It should also be noted that this musuem and the organization that funds the museum are all branches of the Church of Scientology. So everything I've learned needed to be viewed through a skeptical lens.
Needless to say, The Church of Scientology believes that psychiatrists are nothing more than an evil group of people dedicated to enslaving the world to believe they are defective soley so they can make millions off of our pain. Unfortunately, they may be right.
A few undesputable facts that I learned at the Musuem.
- Benjermin Rush the "father" of modern psychiatry based his entire practice of "medicine" on the belief that mental illness was caused by too much blood in the brain. The cure: remove the blood by any means.
- Pavlov, famous for making dogs drool with the sound of a bell. Was from the widely accepted school that humans were no better than animals who could be trained. To prove this his 6 month old daughter lived in an enlarged climate controlled cage. While he performed non harmful experiments to test that she could be trained like the rats and dogs he had used in his other experiments.
- Eugenics the scientific belief of genetic breeding only the best the poplus has to offer is born of psychiatry. The practice of Eugenics is best seen during WW2..ie. The Holocaust.
- psychiatrists also labeled being black a form of lepercy, and segregation was the only way to keep the population safe. Also created a mental illness for slaves. Symptoms of this illness were a desire to run away from slavery, mouthing off, not wanting to work. The cure: Whipping.
- A Famous shrink in america, drove around in his van the lobotomobile. And offered lobotomies to cure your mental illness. Sometimes performing them right in the van. His style of lobotmy was to stick an ice pick under your eye, move it around a bit scraping the brain until he felt he'd done enough. By the time he was eventually stopped he had done this to over 17,000 people.
Anway the musuem pretty much claims that shrinks are to blame for, the holocaust, slavery, south african apartied, columbine, 911 and alot of other really evil shit.
It's a pretty one sided argument. But they make some very interesting points. And it's hard to argue with the fact that the entire "science" is based on trying to make everyone act "normal". Whatever the fuck that means.
Alot of it is probably shit. But if you got to blame someone.
On the way out I'm trying to let this information sink in. And the cute girl behind the desk who looks like my best friend Janice from when I was 3 wants me to fill out a questionare and give money. I sign one of their many petitions but don't give them my real name because..well they are scientologists. Before I can get duped into giving them any cash. Kevin gives me a call and offers to take me to UCB. Oddly he's only a block away from where I am.
When we get to UCB I'm overwhelmed for a few reasons. One, there is a pretty long line waiting for this comedy show. And I think in my head. What does pH have to do to get that in Chicago.
Then I look right in front of me and sitting outside of the resturant right next to UCB was....
I actually don't know his name. But the fat kid from "the big green and Sandlot. I just looked him up his name is Patrick Renna. It's funny how excited i get by seeing him. He's the first celeb I spot outside of a stuido in LA. Kevin and I shoot the shit in line. Unknown to me there is a very tiny lady standing in line behind me who is using two of those hand crutches to stand. I move around alot when i talk and when Kevin hits me with the punchline of his story (which i cant share here because it is way too personal) I back up and pretty much knock this little lady over. I apologize. She accepts (I'm sure she's used to it) but I make up my mind that I am going to not move and reposition myself like I felt the desire to do. I only wanted to move cause she was hanicapped and i was afraid of getting in her way again. But I wouldn't have moved for anyone else. So i didn't move. Thinking:
"Just treat her like everyone else."
After almost knocking this lady over not once, not twice, but three more times. Kevin grabs me by the shoulders and forcibly moves me. Turns out I was being a dick. Ah well live and learn.
The shows were on a whole pretty awful. Save for the last group who was so good they actually got me to ask about classed at UBC. It reminded me i hadn't seen good improv in a long time. Besides pH i was pretty sure most people had forgotten how ot do it. For the most part I still l think I'm right.
When i get home I make myself two hotdogs and put on the first season of the simpsons. I've found myself checking the personals of craigslist cause i find comfort in knowing other people are also lonely. One girl named Diana, in all caps talks about how her life is falling apart and her family is dying. I send her an email saying she could vent if she wanted too. I feel its the least I could do. She never responds maybe she found someone to talk too. Maybe she killed herself.
I finish the night with a quick read, a shot of jameson and a cig. That makes my total for the day 5 or 6. Still more than I would like. But i did finally learn how to blow SMOKE RINGS.
something ive wanted to know since I was like 5. The combo of book, drink and cig, plus the fact that I was listening to Clare De Lune on repeat made sleep come very easy. Tomorrow will be interesting.
I wake up exactly as I knew I would except in addition I also feel like someone has punched me straight in the gut. A Hot shower, turned cold shower, turned Sauna kind of wakes me up. I tell myself that today I am going to be productive. Then after an hour I ask myself....How?
Before I know it I'm throwing on my running shoes and gym shorts and out the door. A good run will make me feel good. I want to take it easy so I don't set the bar high on this first run, but I already know that I'll be doing more of it. So I run around a LA block, which is the equvilant of a maybe an 800 meter dash. By the time I'm standing outside of my house. I'm exhausted. Too many cigarettes. I rememeber that time that Joe Bill had his hand on my chest as i tried to sing.
"You smoke?"
"No"
"Don't ever start."
I guess I showed him. Once inside I do a little stretch down and start eating. 3 waffles, a banana, and one of those power bars I stole. Feeling good. It takes me an hour to write the post I posted yesterday. Then my internet gives out and I lose everything. So I have to write it again. I don't. Instead I pop in Raising Arizona again and start scraping the bowl for Res. I also get together all of my stems, grind them up into a fine powder. And smoke that. Not my finest hour. But needed to be done. Once I have enough res to consist a good time, i try to smoke it and it goes right through the hole and disappears. I try shaking it out of the mouth hole. Then try tapping it out with a lighter.
tap.
tap. tap.
tap. tap. shake.
tap. tap. shake. TAP.
tap. tap. SHAKE. TAP. TAP. "COME ON DAMNIT". TAP.
CRACK
The bowl explodes open and becomes immediately unuseable. FUCK.
I get up and write the post again. And by that time it's already the afternoon. I make myself a quick lunch and then decide to go on a walk.
I take my ipod with me and 6 dollars in quarters. Before I do my walk I stop off by the 711 and buy a pack of Camel crushes in quarters. It comes to 5.76. I give the arab guy behind the counter my change which turns out to be only five dollars in quarters. Thank god for that emergency dollar in my pocket.
When I leave, I check my pants for a lighter and find the other four quarters. This only upsets me because i could have given him those 3 quarters, and a take a penny. Kept my 1.25 and bought a jug of water as well. But live and learn.
Besides from seeing a pretty asian girl with a bag that read "I heart me". The walk was just a walk. I spent it listening to CSNY which is GREAT walking music.
No the walk didn't get interesting until I hit sunset and was given a free admission to the psychiatry an industry in death musuem. Now, usually i wouldn't have gone in there. But I had just finished listening to This American Life podcast the other day. One of the stories was about a man who had been in Bedlhem Asylum for 12 years. Bedlhem is where London sends all of it's serial killers and multiple rapists and pedies. This guy who they called "tony' had been in the asylum for 12 years, his offense was simple assault. But he wanted to avoid prison time, so he faked being crazy. And now he can't get out. Fucking terrifying stuff.
Anyway, needless to say the idea that shrinks were actually pure evil had been rolling around in my head and so I saw this as nothing more than a furthering of my research.
It should also be noted that this musuem and the organization that funds the museum are all branches of the Church of Scientology. So everything I've learned needed to be viewed through a skeptical lens.
Needless to say, The Church of Scientology believes that psychiatrists are nothing more than an evil group of people dedicated to enslaving the world to believe they are defective soley so they can make millions off of our pain. Unfortunately, they may be right.
A few undesputable facts that I learned at the Musuem.
- Benjermin Rush the "father" of modern psychiatry based his entire practice of "medicine" on the belief that mental illness was caused by too much blood in the brain. The cure: remove the blood by any means.
- Pavlov, famous for making dogs drool with the sound of a bell. Was from the widely accepted school that humans were no better than animals who could be trained. To prove this his 6 month old daughter lived in an enlarged climate controlled cage. While he performed non harmful experiments to test that she could be trained like the rats and dogs he had used in his other experiments.
- Eugenics the scientific belief of genetic breeding only the best the poplus has to offer is born of psychiatry. The practice of Eugenics is best seen during WW2..ie. The Holocaust.
- psychiatrists also labeled being black a form of lepercy, and segregation was the only way to keep the population safe. Also created a mental illness for slaves. Symptoms of this illness were a desire to run away from slavery, mouthing off, not wanting to work. The cure: Whipping.
- A Famous shrink in america, drove around in his van the lobotomobile. And offered lobotomies to cure your mental illness. Sometimes performing them right in the van. His style of lobotmy was to stick an ice pick under your eye, move it around a bit scraping the brain until he felt he'd done enough. By the time he was eventually stopped he had done this to over 17,000 people.
Anway the musuem pretty much claims that shrinks are to blame for, the holocaust, slavery, south african apartied, columbine, 911 and alot of other really evil shit.
It's a pretty one sided argument. But they make some very interesting points. And it's hard to argue with the fact that the entire "science" is based on trying to make everyone act "normal". Whatever the fuck that means.
Alot of it is probably shit. But if you got to blame someone.
On the way out I'm trying to let this information sink in. And the cute girl behind the desk who looks like my best friend Janice from when I was 3 wants me to fill out a questionare and give money. I sign one of their many petitions but don't give them my real name because..well they are scientologists. Before I can get duped into giving them any cash. Kevin gives me a call and offers to take me to UCB. Oddly he's only a block away from where I am.
When we get to UCB I'm overwhelmed for a few reasons. One, there is a pretty long line waiting for this comedy show. And I think in my head. What does pH have to do to get that in Chicago.
Then I look right in front of me and sitting outside of the resturant right next to UCB was....
I actually don't know his name. But the fat kid from "the big green and Sandlot. I just looked him up his name is Patrick Renna. It's funny how excited i get by seeing him. He's the first celeb I spot outside of a stuido in LA. Kevin and I shoot the shit in line. Unknown to me there is a very tiny lady standing in line behind me who is using two of those hand crutches to stand. I move around alot when i talk and when Kevin hits me with the punchline of his story (which i cant share here because it is way too personal) I back up and pretty much knock this little lady over. I apologize. She accepts (I'm sure she's used to it) but I make up my mind that I am going to not move and reposition myself like I felt the desire to do. I only wanted to move cause she was hanicapped and i was afraid of getting in her way again. But I wouldn't have moved for anyone else. So i didn't move. Thinking:
"Just treat her like everyone else."
After almost knocking this lady over not once, not twice, but three more times. Kevin grabs me by the shoulders and forcibly moves me. Turns out I was being a dick. Ah well live and learn.
The shows were on a whole pretty awful. Save for the last group who was so good they actually got me to ask about classed at UBC. It reminded me i hadn't seen good improv in a long time. Besides pH i was pretty sure most people had forgotten how ot do it. For the most part I still l think I'm right.
When i get home I make myself two hotdogs and put on the first season of the simpsons. I've found myself checking the personals of craigslist cause i find comfort in knowing other people are also lonely. One girl named Diana, in all caps talks about how her life is falling apart and her family is dying. I send her an email saying she could vent if she wanted too. I feel its the least I could do. She never responds maybe she found someone to talk too. Maybe she killed herself.
I finish the night with a quick read, a shot of jameson and a cig. That makes my total for the day 5 or 6. Still more than I would like. But i did finally learn how to blow SMOKE RINGS.
something ive wanted to know since I was like 5. The combo of book, drink and cig, plus the fact that I was listening to Clare De Lune on repeat made sleep come very easy. Tomorrow will be interesting.
Friday, July 17, 2009
I Am an Island
Yesterday it turns out was a very important day for me in my journey into manhood. Yesterday was the day that my best friend/roommate/writing partnet Jake left California to go to a wedding in VT. This is not the imporant part. What is important is that now that he is gone, begins the first week in my life that I have spent completely alone. Away from family, or any serious connections I finally will have to come to grips with the kind of person I am when no one is around.
So of course I thought I would record it here on my blog which I believe may be safer to write in than my journal. For sure no one is reading this thing. But yes, for the next week I will be completely alone, everyday, until the 23rd when my girlfriend suz flies in for a for days. I will record everything, or at least everything I can remember. Wouldn't it be cool if I went nuts?
DAY 1
The day Jake leaves. My alarm on my phone goes off and I'm awake. Jake is still sleeping but the floor and a sleeping bag make it hard to roll over and fall back to sleep. So I get up. It's only a few minutes of reading "Pygmy" and smoking my morning cigarette when Jake is up. We're both in our pajamas and no shirt and our morning ritual of smoking a bowl happens with little to no words exchanged. Jake showers and packs and I call off work, deciding that today I'd rather relax than work for free. The funny thing is that LAX is literally down the street from my job. So dropping off Jake and going to work is no hassle whatsoever. But those pricks made me work till 8 on tuesday, so fuck em. The drive to LAX is slow, morning traffic is a practical joke. Top speed I reach while going on the 10W is 20 mph. To look at the highway from the sky you'd think LA was being evacuated or that everyone was headed for the beach. The traffic is actually a good thing for a few reasons. I'm still pretty stoned and driving so going slow is always a good thing and it gives me a chance to look into peoples windows. On this drive I see 4 different ladies applying make up to their face with the rapid speed of a EMT bandaging a laceration. We listen to the radio because my ipod player is broken and we listen to the news because there's no guarentee that my internet will work when I get home. Jake and I talk alittle while we approach the airport. And when we finally do our goodbye is brief. A good hug, some "be safes and give my love to the family" and then he's gone and I drive home. In the course of this drive I smoke 3 cigarettes, a first for me. Must be nervous.
When I get home I immediately realize that this will be the state of my apartment for the next few days. And I smoke my last cigarette.
The floor is littered with food from the night before and trash from whenever. DVD's are in a odd semi circle around the TV as if they were worshipping the screen. I DO NOT clean up this mess. Instead I sit down and decide maybe I should get some writing done. Then my phone rings.
Kevin, a red haired, rehabilitated drug addict and alchohaulic who is surely to be the next Hunter S. Thompson, wants to know if I want to go to a Farmers Market with him.
"Yeah dude, I'll go"
"YEAHHHHH!!!"
"Wow, got really excited there"
"Yeah, sorry about that"
I shower and shave. Shave off all my facial hair, realize i've been rocking the goatee for a long time now. When all the hair is gone off my face I don't initially reckognize myself.
"Holy shit...I'm grown." Boy I'll say, I look like a skinnier, happier version of my dad. Shiver.
Kevin is waiting for me in his friends Green Mustang and we head to the famers market. Which isn't a Farmers Market at all, but a Mall called the farmers Market.
It should also be noted that on this ride Kevin and I come up with a skit for a black pimp who dresses in Regal Clothing including a white wig and fencing sword and calls himself "Fancy".
What Kevin has actually done is ask me to accompany him to this mall to get his ipod fixed. Kevin is one of those guys who wants you to come with him getting errands done cause he doesn't want to do it alone. I think this is a Chicago thing. However, he never calls me to join him on the one errand I would like to help him on. Walking his dog, who i think is named Baxter.
The Farmers Market is one of the nicest outdoor malls i've ever been too. And is filled with jailbait. Everywhere I look 16 year olds who look like 18 year olds dressed like 25 year olds walk in herds. Sundresses, Check. Headbands, Check. Purse big enough to fit a small dog into, check. Tan boots, its the fucking chech republic in this bitch. I shake my head but my eyes, well, you can't train your eyes.
At ipod "genius bar", which was going to get me started on a rant but i got distracted by this breathtakingly beautiful black girl at the end of the bar. Instead I quip with Kevin while they tell him his ipod shows signs of water damage thus no warrenty. Here's the inside scoop. Apple and almost every other digitial device company in the world has put tiny watermark indicators in their toys to show if they have gotten wet. If they have then the indicator changes colors and the company makes you pay for a new one. The reason they do this is because they know that eventually. Somehow, somewhere, that shit is going to get wet. They count on it. They are designed to go with you everywhere, water is pretty much everywhere. Eventually the two are going to meet. And even if it's just that your little ipod got caught in the rain, or you dropped it in the snow. That's it. Water indicator changed and your out 99 bucks.
When i finish this rant at the "genius bar" I await to the told that I'm wrong, but the employees are too busy talking about Transformers 2 and how bad it sucked. I look over the employees for real this time, not just checking for the matching apple t-shirts.
Dark hair, check. Skinny jeans, check. Piercings, check. Film/popculture dedicated tattoos...checkmate motherfucker.
This is when I immediately realize everyone working in this store, wants to be making movies. And then I realize everyone in this mall probably wants to be making movies. Everyone in this area, this block, this town. Everyone in everystore and resturant prolly has some script they think is great or some short that is going to blow the worlds mind. I am one of them. This comes and goes so quickly I barely have time to scratch the surface of it. Then poof, it's gone.
But in that time Kevin has his new ipod and we're off to eat.
This mall has a hidden cafeteria filled with all kinds of mom and pop owned small shops. No McDonalds, no Wendy's or any other kind of fast food establishment. Not even a Sabarro. But there was a Barbershop Quartet who would sing to your girlfriend if you paid them. They weren't very good but no matter where we were in the food court I could always see them. Was probably the pinstrips.
After a porksandwich we went to best buy where i purchased Raising Arizona and School Daze. Both of them the second film of the Coen Brothers and Spike Lee respectively.
By the time I get home I've smoked 4 cigs. Hmmmm.
I smoke the rest of the resin in the bowl and pop in Raising Arizona. While I watch the movie I talk with my friend Sean who again tries to talk me into breaking up with my girlfriend. Again I tell him I'd rather not.
Raising Arizona=Awesome.
When the movie is over I need to go somewhere but I'm too broke to do anything. So i make the very grown up decision ( at least in my mind) to go and buy food at Ralphs to last me the week. I also steal many power and candy bars. On the way to the car i think about that time almost a year ago i told pH i was stealing from Jewel. People looked at me all wierd. Now stealing is just a part of my life. Keeps the belly and the wallet full. And in these economic times I'll do whatever I can to keep my head above water.
When I get home I get a call from suz saying she's on the field watching Billy Joel and Elton John. She's close enough so that when she takes a video of it on her cell, I can see their faces. It turns out that Billy Joel and ELton John are two of my favorite artists. Turns out Suz is my girlfriend. Lonliness sets in bad. I make some pasta and pop in School Daze.
School Daze= What the fuck?! A Spike Lee Musical? Unforgettable
Tonight I sleep on a mattress for my first time ever in LA. All in all its only okay.
but I know in the morning I will be missing all of the following.
Cigs, Check. Pot, Check. Money,Check. Plans, Check. Jake....well you know.
So of course I thought I would record it here on my blog which I believe may be safer to write in than my journal. For sure no one is reading this thing. But yes, for the next week I will be completely alone, everyday, until the 23rd when my girlfriend suz flies in for a for days. I will record everything, or at least everything I can remember. Wouldn't it be cool if I went nuts?
DAY 1
The day Jake leaves. My alarm on my phone goes off and I'm awake. Jake is still sleeping but the floor and a sleeping bag make it hard to roll over and fall back to sleep. So I get up. It's only a few minutes of reading "Pygmy" and smoking my morning cigarette when Jake is up. We're both in our pajamas and no shirt and our morning ritual of smoking a bowl happens with little to no words exchanged. Jake showers and packs and I call off work, deciding that today I'd rather relax than work for free. The funny thing is that LAX is literally down the street from my job. So dropping off Jake and going to work is no hassle whatsoever. But those pricks made me work till 8 on tuesday, so fuck em. The drive to LAX is slow, morning traffic is a practical joke. Top speed I reach while going on the 10W is 20 mph. To look at the highway from the sky you'd think LA was being evacuated or that everyone was headed for the beach. The traffic is actually a good thing for a few reasons. I'm still pretty stoned and driving so going slow is always a good thing and it gives me a chance to look into peoples windows. On this drive I see 4 different ladies applying make up to their face with the rapid speed of a EMT bandaging a laceration. We listen to the radio because my ipod player is broken and we listen to the news because there's no guarentee that my internet will work when I get home. Jake and I talk alittle while we approach the airport. And when we finally do our goodbye is brief. A good hug, some "be safes and give my love to the family" and then he's gone and I drive home. In the course of this drive I smoke 3 cigarettes, a first for me. Must be nervous.
When I get home I immediately realize that this will be the state of my apartment for the next few days. And I smoke my last cigarette.
The floor is littered with food from the night before and trash from whenever. DVD's are in a odd semi circle around the TV as if they were worshipping the screen. I DO NOT clean up this mess. Instead I sit down and decide maybe I should get some writing done. Then my phone rings.
Kevin, a red haired, rehabilitated drug addict and alchohaulic who is surely to be the next Hunter S. Thompson, wants to know if I want to go to a Farmers Market with him.
"Yeah dude, I'll go"
"YEAHHHHH!!!"
"Wow, got really excited there"
"Yeah, sorry about that"
I shower and shave. Shave off all my facial hair, realize i've been rocking the goatee for a long time now. When all the hair is gone off my face I don't initially reckognize myself.
"Holy shit...I'm grown." Boy I'll say, I look like a skinnier, happier version of my dad. Shiver.
Kevin is waiting for me in his friends Green Mustang and we head to the famers market. Which isn't a Farmers Market at all, but a Mall called the farmers Market.
It should also be noted that on this ride Kevin and I come up with a skit for a black pimp who dresses in Regal Clothing including a white wig and fencing sword and calls himself "Fancy".
What Kevin has actually done is ask me to accompany him to this mall to get his ipod fixed. Kevin is one of those guys who wants you to come with him getting errands done cause he doesn't want to do it alone. I think this is a Chicago thing. However, he never calls me to join him on the one errand I would like to help him on. Walking his dog, who i think is named Baxter.
The Farmers Market is one of the nicest outdoor malls i've ever been too. And is filled with jailbait. Everywhere I look 16 year olds who look like 18 year olds dressed like 25 year olds walk in herds. Sundresses, Check. Headbands, Check. Purse big enough to fit a small dog into, check. Tan boots, its the fucking chech republic in this bitch. I shake my head but my eyes, well, you can't train your eyes.
At ipod "genius bar", which was going to get me started on a rant but i got distracted by this breathtakingly beautiful black girl at the end of the bar. Instead I quip with Kevin while they tell him his ipod shows signs of water damage thus no warrenty. Here's the inside scoop. Apple and almost every other digitial device company in the world has put tiny watermark indicators in their toys to show if they have gotten wet. If they have then the indicator changes colors and the company makes you pay for a new one. The reason they do this is because they know that eventually. Somehow, somewhere, that shit is going to get wet. They count on it. They are designed to go with you everywhere, water is pretty much everywhere. Eventually the two are going to meet. And even if it's just that your little ipod got caught in the rain, or you dropped it in the snow. That's it. Water indicator changed and your out 99 bucks.
When i finish this rant at the "genius bar" I await to the told that I'm wrong, but the employees are too busy talking about Transformers 2 and how bad it sucked. I look over the employees for real this time, not just checking for the matching apple t-shirts.
Dark hair, check. Skinny jeans, check. Piercings, check. Film/popculture dedicated tattoos...checkmate motherfucker.
This is when I immediately realize everyone working in this store, wants to be making movies. And then I realize everyone in this mall probably wants to be making movies. Everyone in this area, this block, this town. Everyone in everystore and resturant prolly has some script they think is great or some short that is going to blow the worlds mind. I am one of them. This comes and goes so quickly I barely have time to scratch the surface of it. Then poof, it's gone.
But in that time Kevin has his new ipod and we're off to eat.
This mall has a hidden cafeteria filled with all kinds of mom and pop owned small shops. No McDonalds, no Wendy's or any other kind of fast food establishment. Not even a Sabarro. But there was a Barbershop Quartet who would sing to your girlfriend if you paid them. They weren't very good but no matter where we were in the food court I could always see them. Was probably the pinstrips.
After a porksandwich we went to best buy where i purchased Raising Arizona and School Daze. Both of them the second film of the Coen Brothers and Spike Lee respectively.
By the time I get home I've smoked 4 cigs. Hmmmm.
I smoke the rest of the resin in the bowl and pop in Raising Arizona. While I watch the movie I talk with my friend Sean who again tries to talk me into breaking up with my girlfriend. Again I tell him I'd rather not.
Raising Arizona=Awesome.
When the movie is over I need to go somewhere but I'm too broke to do anything. So i make the very grown up decision ( at least in my mind) to go and buy food at Ralphs to last me the week. I also steal many power and candy bars. On the way to the car i think about that time almost a year ago i told pH i was stealing from Jewel. People looked at me all wierd. Now stealing is just a part of my life. Keeps the belly and the wallet full. And in these economic times I'll do whatever I can to keep my head above water.
When I get home I get a call from suz saying she's on the field watching Billy Joel and Elton John. She's close enough so that when she takes a video of it on her cell, I can see their faces. It turns out that Billy Joel and ELton John are two of my favorite artists. Turns out Suz is my girlfriend. Lonliness sets in bad. I make some pasta and pop in School Daze.
School Daze= What the fuck?! A Spike Lee Musical? Unforgettable
Tonight I sleep on a mattress for my first time ever in LA. All in all its only okay.
but I know in the morning I will be missing all of the following.
Cigs, Check. Pot, Check. Money,Check. Plans, Check. Jake....well you know.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Life I'm Living....
-Job Hunt continues. Front page of the LA TIMES read 496,000 jobs lost in June. Just graduated college and got an employee of the year award under by belt still couldn't get hired at a movie theater. It's summer so scripts won't be selling till september.
-Still got no bed...but 3 couches. We found two of them just sitting outside our apartment, the other one is on the balcony. The palm trees that blocked us in and kept us invisible from the street got cut down the other day, so I can sit and relax on while looking at the sky or "downtown" LA. If I'm feeling special I'll go up to the roof where I can see LA stretch on for miles in every direction. Tiny little orange and tan boxes filled with mostly orange and tan people(is that racist?). If I look north I see the Hollywood sign, it's right there everyday, haven't been here long enough for that to stop being cool. At night to the East someone puts on a fireworks show. They echo like gunshots which have also become a familiar sound.
-Working on scripts now. Building a bulk of work and preparing for the release. As much as I need a job. I want to finish these guys. Which brings me to my next point.
-Most (American) Movies Suck Now- I was going to rant about this here. But I think I'll rant about it in another post.
- Which brings me too- I'm proud of the work I'm doing right now.
- Friend who let us crash on his couch our first weeks in town has had a string of bad luck. All of a sudden he's crashing on our couch. *Note to Self* Nothing is permanent:be careful with your money* . Friend was good to us, now we good to him. We sat on the couches and split cash for food. When we could we'd 420 around some chinese food. Watching his movies and Rocky and Bullwinkle. Not going to lie, really good times. Had that bittersweet goodbye when he left. Sad because he's my friend and because we all know what his leaving signifies. That this place is unpredictable, and lawless, and that even living here a year doesn't mean that your set. If chance can decide that he needs to go home. Chance may decide that I have to go home. But I'm also happy that I have my place back to myself. That i can walk around in my pajama pants without shame.
-Graduating in 2009 will one day be a badge of honor or an excuse. It'll be "I graduated in 2009 and still I made something of myself" or "I graduated in 2009, I never had a chance". I don't think I'd be prone to say either of those things. But I do think it's something people will say.
- I'm maturing. At least I think I am.
-And I look fantastic.
-Still got no bed...but 3 couches. We found two of them just sitting outside our apartment, the other one is on the balcony. The palm trees that blocked us in and kept us invisible from the street got cut down the other day, so I can sit and relax on while looking at the sky or "downtown" LA. If I'm feeling special I'll go up to the roof where I can see LA stretch on for miles in every direction. Tiny little orange and tan boxes filled with mostly orange and tan people(is that racist?). If I look north I see the Hollywood sign, it's right there everyday, haven't been here long enough for that to stop being cool. At night to the East someone puts on a fireworks show. They echo like gunshots which have also become a familiar sound.
-Working on scripts now. Building a bulk of work and preparing for the release. As much as I need a job. I want to finish these guys. Which brings me to my next point.
-Most (American) Movies Suck Now- I was going to rant about this here. But I think I'll rant about it in another post.
- Which brings me too- I'm proud of the work I'm doing right now.
- Friend who let us crash on his couch our first weeks in town has had a string of bad luck. All of a sudden he's crashing on our couch. *Note to Self* Nothing is permanent:be careful with your money* . Friend was good to us, now we good to him. We sat on the couches and split cash for food. When we could we'd 420 around some chinese food. Watching his movies and Rocky and Bullwinkle. Not going to lie, really good times. Had that bittersweet goodbye when he left. Sad because he's my friend and because we all know what his leaving signifies. That this place is unpredictable, and lawless, and that even living here a year doesn't mean that your set. If chance can decide that he needs to go home. Chance may decide that I have to go home. But I'm also happy that I have my place back to myself. That i can walk around in my pajama pants without shame.
-Graduating in 2009 will one day be a badge of honor or an excuse. It'll be "I graduated in 2009 and still I made something of myself" or "I graduated in 2009, I never had a chance". I don't think I'd be prone to say either of those things. But I do think it's something people will say.
- I'm maturing. At least I think I am.
-And I look fantastic.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Long Live The King
In case you haven't heard Michael Jackson is dead. I like the rest of the nation have been in mourning over his death. And it would seem as if everyone has had the same response, no one ever really thought he was going to go anywhere. 50 is still a really young age to be dropping off and I think no one was prepared for how connected we all really were to him and his music.
I also think its interesting that I can't think of another celebrity who will cause this much pain when he dies. Possibly Elton John or Stevie Wonder but I don't know. Jackson was up there with Elvis and Lennon in terms of musicians who defined their era. Jackson's era was the 80's and I don't know if the 90's or the zero's really have someone like that, Cobain's already dead. Which I guess is maybe the whole point of the 90's anyway: dying off before reaching your full potential.
Anyway I'm not going to talk about how much Michael Jackson meant to me. It's true I did spend alot of my time practicing the moonwalk and headbob. I know the words to ALL of his songs. I've watched that VHS movie of him with those two kids where he turns into Mecha-Michael like 100,000,000 times. I remember gathering around the TV to see the debute of "Do You Remember the Time" at my grandma's house. Memories that I'm sure everyone shares.
But I DO want to talk about the memorial service which happened today. I'm in LA now and am in the hub of where all of this has went down but I feel like everyone knows or knew so much more than I do about this situation because I don't own a TV. So i missed the constant Jackson mentions on every channel, didn't see the constant run of music videos. I found out he died, held back my tears, listened to all his songs on the way home, had a shot in his honor and that was about it. So imagine my surprise when i found out that a memorial was going to be held at the Staples Center in his honor. It went something like this:
Earlier this morning on the drive to work:
Radio: Today thousands are gathered at the Staples Center in memoriam of the late King of Pop. Tickets were auctioned off to fans who will gather while celebrities and friends pay their respects.
Me: Aww that's nice.
Radio: The funeral service has just ended and the motorcade is making it's way to the Staples Center where they will place Jackson's coffin on a pedestal for all to see.
Me: Wait...What?!
Radio: That's right. You heard me. Thousands of people gathered so we can place Michael Jackson's casket on a pedestal.
Me:Holy shit.
Radio: And if that hasn't sent the message home...did I mention it's a gold plated casket.
Me: No Shit.
Radio: You're telling me.
I went to work trying to explain why I thought this was wrong. But everyone gave me the same response. "It's Michael, what did you think was going to happen." Which I guess is a solid point. And I'll be the first to admit I have a problem with idolitry. But there seemed to be a missing of the point going on. We as American's have literally watched Jackson live and die before our eyes. From a child to a man child he struggled through life, and NONE of us gave him a break ever. His celebrity and talent as an entertainer were both his gift and his ultimate curse. And no one can argue the strain of his life eventually put him in a postion that lead to his inevitable demise. What I don't like is that even after this lifetime lesson, we as a people or even more so the Jackson Family could not allow this man to finally have some rest. Even after death we still made him put on one more show. It feels wrong to me. It feels wrong that his father who beat the crazy into him is promoting his fucking record label. It feels wrong to me that Magic Johnson is talking about how watching him perform made him a better basketball player. It seems wrong to me to hold his child at a microphone while she's sobbing so we can thrust her into the limelight as we thrusted her father.
I really feel like we missed the point. I feel like he deserved, more by giving him less. I feel like making tax payers pay 3.5 million dollars so he can have a golden casket in the midst of a great depression is wrong. I'm not saying not to do it. I'm just saying there is no tact. I'm saying respect is out the window.
I'm saying I should stop expecting so much.
Rest easy Michael. You were the King, but you were also just a man.
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