So, my friend Joel and I paid a visit to the bustling metropolis of Los Angeles, during which we experienced and did the following things:
-Suffered through heat that was hotter than the exact opposite of a witch's teat
-Stayed at a very seedy motel that was so cheap they couldnt even afford a name (it was simply called Motel.) They required all occupants to be 21+ because they had round-the-clock hardcore porn on their TVs.
-Ate at a truck stop in the truckers section, where I felt a bit out of place (i.e. I wasnt fat and wearing a Bush/Cheney shirt or camouflage).
-Went shopping on Melrose, where Joel picked up enough things to clothe a small nation and where I found a rad pair of pink and black striped pants.
-Wore said pants to an indie/EBM nightclub that featured go-go dancers wearing Mexican wrestling masks, hot girls (and a couple guys) mud wrestling in one room and even hotter girls lube wrestling in another room. Oh yeah, and I got in for free!
-Found out that drinks were expensive as fuck. $5.00 for a Budweiser? $10 for a Long Island? Are we ALL supposedly rich?
-Went record shopping at Amoeba, Arons, and Vinyl Fetish and found several 80s synth and goth records Id been searching for.
-Finally ate at Shakeys Pizza.
-Saw a guy beat up his girlfriend on the street, only to be quickly swarmed by bicycle cops who threw him against a wall and gave him a good old-fashioned LAPD ass-whoopin as we casually strolled past.
-Got double-parked while inside a huge comic book store, wasting precious time. Although we got to watch a lot of actors rehearse lines with each other next to the parking lot.
-Heard Indie 103.1 play the world premiere of the new Depeche Mode song Precious, which sounded *almost* like it could have been taken off of Violator.
-Saw WAAAAAAYY too many posters for Deuce Bigalow 2 (ugh).
-Went to the Ripleys Believe it Or Not Museum, which was fully of shrunken heads, two headed babies, a room with spinning walls, and other oddities. It made me nostalgic for the days of growing up with the show when Jack Palance hosted it.
-Went to another HUGE indie nightclub where I was surrounded by and grinded against by four random girls during a Faint song, who then left after the song finished. They were all cute, but they were total bro-hos so I was a bit weary.
Overall, LA is a shitty, hot, ugly, overpriced town that more than lives up to its stereotypes. Actors reciting lines, people peddling recording studio time, Scientologists handing out literature Almost everyone was completely self-obsessed, and those who werent worshipped those who were. It made me happy to come back to laid back, level-headed, foggy San Francisco. However, I have never so thoroughly enjoyed a town that I despised so much.
-Suffered through heat that was hotter than the exact opposite of a witch's teat
-Stayed at a very seedy motel that was so cheap they couldnt even afford a name (it was simply called Motel.) They required all occupants to be 21+ because they had round-the-clock hardcore porn on their TVs.
-Ate at a truck stop in the truckers section, where I felt a bit out of place (i.e. I wasnt fat and wearing a Bush/Cheney shirt or camouflage).
-Went shopping on Melrose, where Joel picked up enough things to clothe a small nation and where I found a rad pair of pink and black striped pants.
-Wore said pants to an indie/EBM nightclub that featured go-go dancers wearing Mexican wrestling masks, hot girls (and a couple guys) mud wrestling in one room and even hotter girls lube wrestling in another room. Oh yeah, and I got in for free!
-Found out that drinks were expensive as fuck. $5.00 for a Budweiser? $10 for a Long Island? Are we ALL supposedly rich?
-Went record shopping at Amoeba, Arons, and Vinyl Fetish and found several 80s synth and goth records Id been searching for.
-Finally ate at Shakeys Pizza.
-Saw a guy beat up his girlfriend on the street, only to be quickly swarmed by bicycle cops who threw him against a wall and gave him a good old-fashioned LAPD ass-whoopin as we casually strolled past.
-Got double-parked while inside a huge comic book store, wasting precious time. Although we got to watch a lot of actors rehearse lines with each other next to the parking lot.
-Heard Indie 103.1 play the world premiere of the new Depeche Mode song Precious, which sounded *almost* like it could have been taken off of Violator.
-Saw WAAAAAAYY too many posters for Deuce Bigalow 2 (ugh).
-Went to the Ripleys Believe it Or Not Museum, which was fully of shrunken heads, two headed babies, a room with spinning walls, and other oddities. It made me nostalgic for the days of growing up with the show when Jack Palance hosted it.
-Went to another HUGE indie nightclub where I was surrounded by and grinded against by four random girls during a Faint song, who then left after the song finished. They were all cute, but they were total bro-hos so I was a bit weary.
Overall, LA is a shitty, hot, ugly, overpriced town that more than lives up to its stereotypes. Actors reciting lines, people peddling recording studio time, Scientologists handing out literature Almost everyone was completely self-obsessed, and those who werent worshipped those who were. It made me happy to come back to laid back, level-headed, foggy San Francisco. However, I have never so thoroughly enjoyed a town that I despised so much.
My friend and I are going to LA this weekend. For absolutely no reason. I know we'll be hitting up record stores by day and bars, clubs or possibly a show by night, though.
SPRING BREAK!!!!!
SPRING BREAK!!!!!
What started out as a simple family dinner in celebration of my half-birthday (my regular birthday is two days after Christmas and therefore rarely celebrated) has been getting out of proportion. It was originally supposed to be my parents, brother, and a friend... Now it's my friend, my parents, my brother and his girlfriend, my aunt and uncle, my grandfather, and one of his friends. Everyone's coming to vist this Saturday, when my roomate will be busy moving out with the help of his friends. Did I mention he and his friends are gay and some of my guests are rather conservative? I'm sure not going to mention it to them! It could provide some humor. Still, at least I'm guaranteed a free dinner.
Yeesh, it's been a while! Wait, is "yeesh" a word? Well it is now! I'm happy to say that I now have a radio show in San Francisco. It's at a small pirate radio station, West Add Radio, which is pretty rad because I can pretend I'm in Pump Up the Volume.
I even created a Myspace page for it, so that I may whore myself out to everyone. Feel free to add it as a friend.
Other than that, I've been working more hours which is pretty nice. More money and less free time to spend it, so maybe I can save some cash up (not likely)!
Oh, and I'll be getting a new roomate soon... someone from SG! No, not an actual SG though. Although maybe if he were to shave and I tried squinting real hard... no. Not an SG. Sorry billyboy.
I even created a Myspace page for it, so that I may whore myself out to everyone. Feel free to add it as a friend.
Other than that, I've been working more hours which is pretty nice. More money and less free time to spend it, so maybe I can save some cash up (not likely)!
Oh, and I'll be getting a new roomate soon... someone from SG! No, not an actual SG though. Although maybe if he were to shave and I tried squinting real hard... no. Not an SG. Sorry billyboy.
Wow. Apparently there was a quake in the Pacific Ocean and they just issued a tsunami warning for SF. I live just a few blocks from the ocean, so the next time I visit this site, I might be considerably wetter!
I now know what I shall do with my life. I will hang out outside the Antiques Roadshow. And every time someone comes out with an ear-to-ear grin, I'll smack them upside the head and take their valuable wares, and hel-looooo eBay! Failsafe!
Yesterday I went over to the house of the girl I had been dating up until a couple months ago. I was afraid it would be awkward, since it would be our first time really talking to each other since we broke up. And it was awkward, but not for the reasons I expected. I quickly found that there was no animosity between us, which was a relief. The awkwardness came from the fact that she had been in a major bike accident last week, which had left her chin and jaw completely smashed. Her jaw was wired shut (something I hear about but had never seen), and she had lots of bandages covering her lower face. It was truly a shock to see someone I cared about (and still care about, if in a lesser way) in such pain. All the things I had planned on saying were rendered utterly trite and meaningless. I found myself stammering a lot, split between acting sympathetic and of and pretending that the headress didn't even exist. I don't even really know where I'm going with this; it's just something that's been weighing on my mind. I guess it's one of those things that puts everything into perspective, and when someone tells me "at least you've got your health" I can say "Oh shit, you're right".
I just got back from a bar where some friends' bands played. When I got to my car, I was quite annoyed to find my back window (the small vent window) broken. Nothing was stolen. Not the radio, not my cds that were lying on the seat, not the clothes in the trunk, not the jacket in the back seat. Nothing was missing, and the windows were still locked. Sure, I was pissed about the glass... but for fuck's sake, if you're gonna break my glass, at least have a fucking reason for it!
RIP Cat Club.
Over the years, I laughed, I drank, I danced, I ogled, I drunkenly stumbled, I awkwardly sang, I did it all within your cold, dimly lit brick walls. I became friends with some great and dated some wonderful girls I met within your homey interior. You were my dance-friendly home away from home, loudly blaring new wave, punk, indie, electro, and goth with equal fervor. I nearly cried when I found out you were being sold. That one last glorious night on Sunday, with pints upon pints upon pints of free beer, made for, as Elliott Smith said, a fond farewell to a friend.
I can only hope the new owners keep some of your biker-bar/hipster dive spirit.
Over the years, I laughed, I drank, I danced, I ogled, I drunkenly stumbled, I awkwardly sang, I did it all within your cold, dimly lit brick walls. I became friends with some great and dated some wonderful girls I met within your homey interior. You were my dance-friendly home away from home, loudly blaring new wave, punk, indie, electro, and goth with equal fervor. I nearly cried when I found out you were being sold. That one last glorious night on Sunday, with pints upon pints upon pints of free beer, made for, as Elliott Smith said, a fond farewell to a friend.
I can only hope the new owners keep some of your biker-bar/hipster dive spirit.
Oh, how I love the commercials on late night TV. Has anyone ever seen that Red Hot Dateline commercial in which a group of girls is working out, and then they decide to call up the Red Hot Dateline to get some hot guys over? Then, all of a sudden it cuts to a somewhat attractive spokesmodel with a downright unsettling smile who gives the phone number, and the next scene shows two happy guys knocking on the door to the initial group of girls saying "I told you red hot works!"
Are we really to believe that groups of really hot girls, who apparently have standards as low as the Mariana Trench, are calling up some dating service late at night to get a couple total strangers, who are basically walking manifestations of horniness being led by their divining rod erections, to come over to their house and enchant them with their inherent blubbering male charm before inviting them into their bedroom for a depraved three-on-two orgy?
Because man, if that's true, I've been seriously wasting my time by actually talking to girls.
Are we really to believe that groups of really hot girls, who apparently have standards as low as the Mariana Trench, are calling up some dating service late at night to get a couple total strangers, who are basically walking manifestations of horniness being led by their divining rod erections, to come over to their house and enchant them with their inherent blubbering male charm before inviting them into their bedroom for a depraved three-on-two orgy?
Because man, if that's true, I've been seriously wasting my time by actually talking to girls.
