I.} OCTOBER.23.07. The fire hasn’t really affected us here on the Westside, those santa ana winds are right on schedule, ringing like an egg timer, and the buffoons in Malibu continue to live there despite the danger they know they’re in. 500k fornians displaced. Victor and I went to Los Angeles’ last honky tonk- Cowboy Country, in Lakewood, a little out of the way, but great Stetson fun and worth the trek down the 110 past compton. On the mainstage a man in black with a six string and this girl Jessica from El Paso who looked like emmylou in 73 with jet black curls, did a good sara evans. We’ll be going back. Following day, looked at the home security units behind the glass cases at Turner’s in Torrance. The gruff dude at the counter gave me a flyer, ½ off at the lax range on Manchester. An interesting place, men in three piece suits, but also lots of normal couples go, bunch of college kids with lmu t-shirts, is this a bowling alley or a firing range? And that ladies and gents, is the news from my corner of lake angeles.

II.} 10.14.07. We sang Up Against the wall Redneck Mother in my foreign car on the way to the homecoming game and laughed uncontrollably at “just kicking hippies’ asses and raising hell.” it was surreal really; but the game stunk, like watching an earnest event of the Special Olympics. Got two hot chocolates. We didn’t see too many familiar faces. Then the rain came down, first hard rain in 4 months. Roads were slick but nobody died. There was a red corvette on the freeway facing the opposite direction in the carpool lane. Maybe he died. The next day it was clear very blue, you could practically see Hawaii from ocean park. She laid down on the couch napping, and her hair smelled like strawberries.

III.} 9.30.07. Still trying to put my trip to Manhattan and Brooklyn into words. I can’t fairly describe it, you’ll just have to go there yourself and tell me what it’s like. To me it was a lot like a busy day in la but with two centuries of history. Cory said there’s a pub George Washington and his revolutionary pals used to frequent that still stands on the same location in Wall Street today. I was a tourist, I can’t tell you what it’s like to be a New Yorker- I didn’t walk a mile in his shoes. I can barely tell you what it’s like to be an Angeleno. It’s the people you’re with that’s l.a. to me, my coworkers and growing list of ex roommates and Veronica and her old Texas songs.

Saturday morning, I made a birthday record for Ryan with a lot of Hank jr, David allan coe, Waylon and some keith whitley and charlie rich. These days it seems I can’t quit listening to country. Every time I try to share my latest unlikely discovery with other non-believers they look at me like I’m a f#cking whitewashed Stockholm syndromed freak. Like, hey slant eyes, stick to what you know- that techno shit or new york rap. But I’ve heard it all in the pop music world, and all roads lead to country music: the heart and soul, the patriotism, the blue collar hero, the strong men, the sexy women, the laughs that keep on coming. What about the bigotry?- the lynching songs? Country’s like anything else- you pick and choose what you like and leave the rest alone. You have your clean country- Alan Jackson, emmy lou, george jones and you have your dirty country- hank jr and coe. Whatever the case may be, I’ve learned there’s no use trying to change a person’s mind. 95% of the time he’s made up his mind and won’t see things your way unless he has it in him to branch out. So like bocephus says, if you hate country you can kiss our behind.

A.) SEPTMBER.24.07. With people there are two kinds of beauty that knock you out- #1 is the beauty of an elegant woman from manhattan, new york- slender soft strong understated, she’ll sit right across from you on the Q train and read the times and emit a natural sex appeal that keeps you begging for more, she can’t help it, she was born that way. Then there’s the beauty of a caring heart, a caring heart that floors you everytime with its generosity and keeps you humble and proud to know a man or woman with such a kind heart. You’re thrown off by the warmth of a good friend, because you’re so used to a hidden agenda. But with your friends there is no secret motive- they like you just the way you are, it’s that simple. It’s the affection you’d expect a husband to give a wife, not one friend to give to another friend. Every man wants to be with a woman. He does not feel complete until he has one but what of the love between friends? In an unfeeling world that chews up the weak and spits em out into the gutter, you’re there for one another - it’s that simple. Starsky and hutch, butch Cassidy and sundance.

This past week I saw firsthand the generosity and love between friends. Danny taking days off work to show me around midtown Manhattan. Jimmy making me 14 cds of Allman Brothers and Jerry Lee. Aunt Lisa with the hong bao and warm advice and Anna the rides to JFK. Cory buying me a Heineken in Williamsburg. Kimmy giving up her memory foam mattress and sleeping in the living room instead. How is it that they can love someone they don’t even know?

There’s an old cole porter song- “I happen to like new york” circa 1930, where the woman croons, “I like the city air, I like to drink of it, the more I know New york the more I think of it, I like the sight and the sound and even the stink of it.” Keep in my mind I was a new york city virgin and when I got there I kept my feet on the ground. it was like wow I’m really here- in times square. I’m walking down mulberry street munching on sausage and peppers, there’s central park. I’m chugging a cold lonestar at the rodeo club on 28th street. But I never got under the fingernails of the city- I fear it would be too expensive to live in manhattan, Brooklyn even. Danny was a warm host and we did the museum circuit and scarfed down some good Brooklyn Chinese quite regularly. I can happily say I made the trek from the pacific to the atlantic, from sea to shining sea like a regular jetsetter. America is an amazing country- it’s my favorite country and nobody can convince me otherwise.

B.) 9.18.07. New york New york, i'll miss you, i will think about you.

C.) 9.15.07. I was supping with a cohort of mine at the hollywood soup plantation the other night, and brought up that flap about the city councilman in south central. This councilman wants to put an end to fast food expansion in South Central- saying no to McDonalds, Taco bell, Kfc, to make room for more healthy choices- supermarkets, salads and the like. I think it's a great idea, but my friend flew off the handle and started blaming ghetto parents for being lazy shits and not bothering to fix their kids home cooked meals. I bit my tongue and buried my nose in the minestrone. you should never lose a friend over politics. In my mind, i thought- those parents obviously can't do what needs to be done to keeping their kids from getting chunky. they need all the help they can get, give them a trader joes, build another Ralphs and albertsons and elminate all the hohos and twinkies in the snack aisle. That would put those f#cking plastic surgeons in beverly hills out of business.

A.) SEPTMBER.07. Whenever September returns, I try to line up the tragedies in my life with those who perished on 9/11, and my problems don't seem so devestating after all. But i believe most of us think if it's not in my backyard it doesn't matter- those who died don't affect me, they don't change my life one way or another. In some parts of the country, the Heartland, there is still a pride in being American and what America stands for: courage, freedom, individuality. Every life taken by a terrorist means something, like your cousin or brother was murdered and you just want to get back at the sonofabitch who did that. Because you're an American and Americans don't get pushed around without putting up a fight.


B.) To get prepared for my upcoming trip to New York City, I’ve been revisiting those fond new york movies from adolescence- goodfellas, mean streets, raging bull, taxi driver, godfather, odd couple, manhattan, saturday night fever, ghostbusters. Then there’s the rereading of old Dorothy parker stories and the Algonquin table and catcher in the rye. Looking up the places bob Dylan and john lennon got stoned at, where did Emmylou eat when she visited? And 42nd street tin pan alley- gershwin, porter, irving berlin. Harlem and the Duke and the Count and Malcolm. There’s conan and howard and the neighborhoods that produced carlin and savage, seinfeld, cagney and Edward robinson. I’ve been waiting all my life for this trip. As a lifelong Californian, there are two places in the lower 48 I got to visit before I croak, and that is dallas and new york city. From the big orange to the big apple in 6 hours, what strange times we live in.

C.) 9.2.07. It was one of those days that you thanked the Lord that you live on the Westside, 10 degrees saner than the rest of la- the carbon monoxide and overcrowding where nobody wants to do anything but sit in front of their tv sets and get piss drunk. This is penance for an unusually cool august. Even at night it’s still 85 in the valley, nonetheless, Jim took Sara to Joey’s Snack Shack in Burbank on Magnolia Boulevard. Live geetar music and plain folks dancing like geriatric patients with stetsons and genuine cowhide leather boots. The electric guitars were cranked up way too loud drowning out the lyrics, still the pair enjoyed themselves and tried to cut a rug before the night was through. Just prior to pulling into the lot, sara mentioned she was hungry and they went to maggianos and split some side dishes. He enjoyed looking at her while she ate, it was restful and vaguely reminded him of happiness.

Currently Playing: Keep on Pushing (2004) by The Black Seeds

A.] AUGUST 2007. God has a funny way of f#cking with your life, he must really enjoy himself up there amongst the clouds. One moment you’re happy as a clam- glad to be alive, the next moment you want to kill someone. And the next moment you’re relieved but the moment after that you want to club a baby seal. I don’t know what to think any more, just taking life day by day and not overthinking the situation. Overthinking aka aggravation leads to second guessing, doubt, suspicion- it just gets really f#cking ugly. Take it day by day. And if it doesn’t work out f#ck it. cut your losses, pick up the pieces and go back to square one.

B.] Ma is in a bad mood, dont know why- and nothing i say will change her mind. She'll get over it by next saturday. She's in one of them obstinate funks where you dont even want to try to talk to her. I remember when i lived in suncup and she'd be in the middle of one of those real pms days from hell, the only thing you can do is get up and walk out the door. In many ways men have it so much better than the fairer sex- can you imagine 5 days out of every month, snapping, where you just want to beat the f#ck out of anyone standing in your way? Guess that's the trade off for getting sex whenever you want it.

C.] AUGUST 05.07. I invited veronica to the dodgers diamondback game or the museum and she said the latter so we got ready for the getty but then something happened. she fell victim to food poisoning from the night before, subsequently, we stayed in- ordered egg drop soup from delivery and watched tv on the couch with our legs propped on the coffee table. Incidentally, the game was on tv and it was hd quality who can ask for anything more right? however, i completely missed the home run record on espn but i heard on the radio, bonds was cheered and jeered as he rounded the bases. i've only seen him play once and that was when matt brought me to giants stadium several years back. no homers. some artsy fartsies can't stand team athletics, what they dont get is the strategy the analogies manifold between what happens on the field and your day to day existence. plus if you're with company there's no better conversation-friendly show than a game. this comes from my heart, sports aside, i absolutely hate loathe and despise watching tv shows with another person- it defeats the whole purpose of being with people.

AUGUST 01.07. A man works from 6am to 5pm at his job and he feels like he’s doing something worthwhile as there is no greater satisfaction than being paid for doing a good job that you believe in. But when he comes home that’s when he gives his time to his family. 5:30pm, the suit walked through the front door of his 3 bedroom condo and kissed his wife in the kitchen. “Honey it smells wonderful,” says he. “Don’t you dare touch those potatoes Jim Tree or I’ll tan your hide,’ says Sara. “Where’s my little Johnny?” “ Our little angel has been playing rough with the kids at school today. Look, tore a hole in his brand new blue jeans.” “Tsk tsk tsk son you ought to know better than that.” “they started it,’ said little Johnny. ‘you be the bigger man and walk away you hear? You only fight if you have no other choice… Honey do I have time for a shower? I can’t wait to get out of this monkey suit. “ “Make it a quick one sweetie, the pot roast is just about done.”

The Trees ate happily at the dining table, dinner time was their time. No television, no distractions, just conversating- how was your day- what’d you do? You didn’t discuss business, you didn’t discuss politics or religion- it wasn’t a gd talkshow, it was a family dinner and that’s how it always was. Most nights they ate in, but every Tuesday night they would go out for pizza or Chinese food on main street. Friday nights perhaps a movie together. Saturday nights hand the child to a sitter or drop him off with his school friends so husband and wife could go stepping.

After supper Jim did the dishes while Johnny dried them. Sara rested her feet on the couch and turned on the baseball game, Jim puts his arm around the love of his life and cracks open a cold beer. They talk some more about this and that. Grandma Parker’s ailing health, the Jackson’s new puppies, the new exhibit at the Getty, the upcoming Sunday barbeque with the Waltons down the street. 6-11pm. 5 hours with your family is not bad, not bad at all- that’s America for you.

1.) JULY 2007. Steve Lopez: Don't become a pawn, I told my nephew, for a president who misled us from the beginning and who will keep sacrificing lives in a vain and futile attempt to save face. The war in Iraq had been a reckless idea, I argued, and that was becoming clear even to many who once supported it... "What I want for my life is to stand above the majority," he wrote. "I believe in honor, discipline and courage…. I wish to be bigger than myself, to be a part of something more — something important and significant…. I hope that you will understand my reasons for this decision and will continue to support me." My sister came to support her son's courage and patriotism despite her fears. But as his departure approached, both she and my mother sank into states of serious depression that required treatment...

...And as for soldiers as young as my nephew, I don't see enlistment as a well-informed choice but as a product of manipulation. I'm thinking about the seductive recruiting posters I saw in the office at Hemet High School when I visited for a column about three grads who'd been killed in the war. It's not something the president has to worry about. I don't know what his daughters are up to, but neither has signed up for the sacrifice he has asked so many others to make. To date, only one congressman has lost a child to the war, and only about 10 have a relative in combat.

The libs will never understand what needs to be done to ensure freedom. They will focus on the defeats and never the victories in our battle against evil.

2.) The more I hear about Texas the more I want to move out there where people don’t secretly want something from you; they’ll strike up a conversation just because they’re friendly, here in l.a. nobody talks to one another. Neighbors don’t want to have nothing to do with one another. And nobody goes to church. God that f#cking plane overhead is one noisy ccksucker.

JULY 20.07. Veronica and i did lunch at Du-pars on third. A quaint place, been there since before World War 2. She had a short stack with eggs and hash browns and i ordered the californian with a potato salad and a pickle. Then we went to the flea market on Fairfax and looked at some old paintings. Got some groceries for tomorrow at Trader Joes and went back to her place- a good sunday. Now that i'm a westside dweller i find myself admiring constantly the greener grass in West Hollywood. Venice Samo has the ocean but what else? less traffic and 5 degrees of relief but there are other things that bug me. Trouble has a way of finding me and i'm more than happy to accomodate her.... In life you rarely meet genuine people, real people you want to spend time with. When you do find them you don’t want to be with anyone else, just them, you don’t want to share them with lesser morons- idiots who waste your time and hog up air space. When you've found the one you want to be with, you don’t care about anyone else until he or she breaks your heart and you're forced to move on to the next one.

Currently Reading: The Deathly Hallows (2007) by JK Rowling

i.} JULY 07. There's a distinct smell of rot and death in a dungeon stripped of windows, where young adults go to obtain a ged or diploma because they dropped out when the going got tough. You can get a job as nightwatchman if you dont mind the three hours, and sitting around doing jack shit. Sure the money's good but what about your soul? For me it's never been about the money, it's about the love if you dont love what you're doing you're wasting your time. there has to be another way to make a buck than to sell your soul to the devil for 20 pieces of silver. i need the supplemental income, guess i'll have to be more serious about this writing thing. treat it like a job, sit down and try to punch something out from the heart. haha. that's a good one. sometimes i crack myself up.

A.) JULY 07. During the chilliest summer on record, the internet on 1066 green dolphin street collapsed for several days- what was alex to do? actual real writing, stuff he can package and stick a yellow price tag on? writing that will go down in history alongside faulkner chandler ellroy and dickens? nah. Instead, he had a few real nice days in July in los angeles at the favorite haunts- lalas on melrose, noodle planet in westwood, the urth cafes, hotel cafe on cahuenga, beauty bar, dresden on vermont, the sands of ocean park, nice places- islands of sanity in an otherwise bastion of cosmopolitan filth and 21st century overcrowding.

B.) 4th of july on the beach on the velvet vanilla sand with peals of laughter and the clinking of amber bottles and exploding fireworks in the cool black sky is why you love America… I find the art of positive thinking so fascinating- rush has it, leykis has it, they have this unexplainable pep in their step- come what may there is no stopping them. They’re like an undeniable force hurtling through the cosmos and anything in their way is shattered into a million pieces. What does it take to be so gd positive when so many things are going wrong. There is this guy at work he always has a dumb grin on his face even when he doesn’t think anyone is looking. Is he psychotic or just really cheerful. How will I ever know? You take a reall shitty situation like someone just keyed the side of your car and chucked a 20 pound cinderblock through your front windshield and you go from there. Instantly, in your head, the gears turn a mile a minute: get a paintjob, replace the glass, report the crime, park somewhere else. act and not react. Is a man considered wise if he learns to take lemons and make fruit salad?

C.) The Summer of Love refers to the summer of 1967, particularly in the Haight-Ashbury district of San Francisco, where thousands of young people loosely and freely united for a new social experience. As a result, the hippie counterculture movement came into public awareness. The beginning of the Summer of Love has popularly been attributed to the Human Be-In at Golden Gate Park on January 14, 1967. The size of that event awakened mass media to the hippie counterculture that was blossoming in the Haight-Ashbury. College and high school students began streaming into the Haight on their spring break of 1967. The Mamas and the Papas took 20 minutes to write " If you're going to San Francisco, be sure to wear some flowers in your hair... If you're going to San Francisco, Summertime will be a love-in there." The song was designed to promote the June 1967 Monterey Pop Festival, the world's first major rock festival, which was attended by over 200,000 people.

1.] JUNE 30.07. On an evening in June among what’s left of the Sunset Strip, one can still find beauty and elegance amidst the middle class if he goes through the doors of the Spanish kitchen. The waitresses and bartenders, a few fresh off the bus from dallas and Miami, exhibit a stunning beauty- understated even, you wouldn’t expect from the land where women cake themselves in garish face paint in an effort to appeal to spiky haired girly men and their own prima donna slut peers. There’s nothing more pathetic than an aging beauty who tries to hide her years, deceive the world with face paints and cheap perfumes, it’s a sign of cowardice. Can’t you age with grace and accept the wrinkles and crows feet and saggy turkey neck, and deal with it. Tom, Dick, and Harry met at skitch for margaritas and a few laughs. The waitress offered a tray of chips and served them a plate of cold ones. Espn in the background something to stare at. It was a place to “pick up girls” but the girls never received the memo. Next stop, house of blues, saddle ranch, cabo’s, and pancakes at the belly up standard. A walk past the “body shop” a cheap strip club in an otherwise classy part of town and finally settling in the lobby of the old argyle hotel for a midnight martini.

2.] 6.28.07.Career Inc has a higher turnover rate than flap jacks at IHOP. During today’s bon voyage extravaganza, the females failed in their struggle to hold back the tears while the men were impartial even happy at a long-awaited retirement- 25 years at a place, it really grows on you, like a fungus. I had a piece of carrot cake with my colleague Veronica and we hobnobbed at the tables of the staff center. Attending graduation was a hard sell. I can understand why people would rather get a root canal- and the calling of the names is murder, especially if you dont know anybody involved. Some colleagues got smashed royally at the tailgate party for the event. It was supposed to have history but it was like any other happening with 5,000 people and a brass section. We said the pledge and listened to the national anthem performed ceremoniously. Parents with balloons and flowers blocked the aisles and i've even heard stories of kids who don't have any family here in los angeles whatsoever. They're living with a friend or on their own. No mother or father to cheer them on as they walk across the stage and take their diploma. Can you believe that, not having anyone there to shake your hand and pat you on the back?

3.] Monday through Fridays, I can deal with- I’m actually enjoying the salt mines quite a bit but these last six months were arguably the worst ever. Kids are lazy, they’re impertinent, it’s hard to really get anything done but the good news is- on top of the worksheets and quizzes and textbooks, fundamentally, my pedagogy rallies around relationships between the kids. My kids get to know one another. When they’re done with formal education they’ll have their jobs but they need those life long contacts, friendships they made over the years.... The drawing room, the largest of rooms at Career Inc was unusually well attended today by union members due to the fact that it was an election for chapter chair. Old timers are retiring hanging up their spurs and they need new blood behind the reins. They talk a good talk these would be leaders, and I’m usually lost when I listen to them. All I know is how to put together a "stimulating" lesson, this politics among the captains fails to invigorate me.

A.] JUNE 2007. Shaking like a leaf on a tree, the walls of Wiley were about to collapse. It was Margie’s birthday on a Saturday night and she had a club of people over- stereo cranked up to a fever pitch bumping and grinding was pandemic. There was sucking of jello vodkas, hitting a bong, whatever that means and those 18 19year olds were fundamentally assfaced, as college kids are known to be. On a Saturday night, education practically becomes secondary to the mayhem only reserved for girls gone wild videos. The side door opened up and a parade of penis walked by. the girls took notice, one, Shana was tripping over herself, walking into walls, knocking over lamps and Allen, in no fine shape himself, thought he’d deliver her to her bed before she really made a douchebag of herself. The problem was, she slept on the top bunk of an 8 foot tall bunk bed. Her leg went up on the first step and she fumbled the second, the third was worse and allen was right behind her swaying dizzily himself in carefree inebriation. Wobbling at the top, she tried to collapse onto the mattress but slipped, nosediving onto the hard ground with no hands outstretched to break her fall.

Sobered in a second, Allen ran to Shana’s side- he could see with a pop the blood break from her nostrils like a crimson tide. She looked like she was going to die with a broken neck. The girls were alerted and they put a gauze over her nose and they jumped into two cars and made there way to the Pasadena ER. Dean Meyers showed up pissed that the kids were underage drinking and giving him more paperwork to fillout. All night, the kids stayed in that hospital emergency room. Shana emerged from the incident with a broken nose and a lesson learned. Allen considered the merits of shitfaceitis.

B.] My dad used to rent movies for free at the sunnydale library when I was just a kid. My fair lady with Audrey hepburn and rex Harrison- it was a terrible movie, even back then but it made pop laugh. He would sing along tooty fruity alarooty. To be honest with you, he wasn’t a big tv watcher- his thing is gardening, he likes to tend flowers and read newspapers in the old language. he always had trouble maintaining friends. I remember this one friend of his, Johann, bald dude with a wife and child- old friends, they went to berkeley together in the late sixties. We would go over to uncle johann’s apartment in sunnydale under the fruitcup downtown and just have a bowl of tofu soup, chat, watch tv and then one day we stopped going because pop had a beef with the guy and he cut him off. That’s how my father went through life in his forties and fifties. To this day he doesn’t have any close friends- he has his wife and they often quarrel and that’s how it is.

Lord this was one shit of a day- these “little angels” I handle in the morning- they want nothing to do with me and the feelings are mutual. I’m counting the days until their departure. In the recent weeks, I’ve been working on positive visualization, only focusing on what I can control- not blaming anyone but myself and what I can do about f#cked up situations. I can’t blame these kids for screwing me over, it’s my fault- what can I do to curb their savage behavior? I’ve been at Career Inc for two years now and this group of “little angels” are the biggest challenge yet. We’ll see if they cost me my job, that'll be the day.

I.] JUNE 2007. I see these dolled up billboards for Nancy Drew all over the southland and they remind me of the old hardy boys stories I tried to read when reading was cool, before the internet and cable tv. I could never and still cannot finish a book from cover to cover. The mind drifts, becomes distracted by a snackfood or the promise of the orange yellow sunbath outside. If it’s sunny out, why do you want to be indoors with a book in your hand. You want to be out at a barbecue with the dodgers or a volleyball game at oakwood park. You want to snort up the clean air like John Belushi over a coffeetable of blow in 1983. Where was I, hardy boys, schmardy boys, alfie hitchcock presents the three investigators, now there is a series i recall. Jupiter Jones and his rolls royce rides- what a guy. and the Great Brain- Pat Radovich used to read that book about mormon kids to us at montessori west from her trailer home/classroom.

The reviews for this nancy drew movie are frighteningly bland- a modern day lady Sherlock holmes at Hollywood high investigating the unsolved murder of a Hollywood screen siren in a haunted mansion. What’s this about a fifties button down mentality in 2007- I can dig the fifties, clean cut, excuse me and thank yous, lemonbars in tin boxes. You could do much worse in this day and age of doped out sluts puking on themselves on Sunset Boulevard.

II.] Policemen are subject to more temptations than workers in any other type of occupation... bar owners are happy to give an officer a bottle of liquor, hoping that this will sometime influence his official actions. For the same reason, women offer themselves readily at times to a policeman. There is always ready money for the policeman who will forget he is a cop. Policemen are put to great stress living on their 'just get by' salaries. They have trying work schedules, bad hours that make it tough on home life. They are subject to a rigid promotional setup which, mathematically, makes it impossible for everbody to advance. When a man takes the Badge, he must learn to control these things inside him. If he doesnt want to control them, he wont stay on this police force. (Webb 176)

III.] Why can’t this stupid dog get it through her thick head not to lunge at other dogs- do I really have the choke the living f#ck out of her every time we go on a walk? What a workout you get when dealing with an obstinate, impetuous beast who practically weighs as much as you do. And tonight we saw this young buck adult American bulldog twice the size of Katarina- could have snapped her neck in two with one bite, and being led by this 7 foot tall mtherf#cker who grabbed onto the choker with both hands to save me from an early grave. Whoever had the brilliant idea of buying a big dog and never walking it explains a lot about this individual’s sense of responsibility. Why southern cal? Is it so much better than norcal? There are celebrities so-called down here- people in the news on tmz and entertainment tonight with that sick perve pat o’brien. But if you can’t make it in Hollywood and you don’t have family here what’s the point of staying, you’d have to be an egomaniac to want to stick around.

1.) JUNE 2007. The Bill Graham civic center was packed with asian families, especially Chinese- you'd never seen so many Chinese kids in one auditorium, prompting one to think that sfusd is really code for Cusd- Chinese Unified School District. And the mayor, Gavin Newsom made an unexpected appearance, giving a motivational speech on success and successful people. "Sucessful people," said he, " know failure and passion. The most succesful people in history were screw ups but they really loved their jobs." We did pictures with Benson outside the city capitol building and then went to Uncle Nelson's for refreshments, some sushi, some prime rib and potato salad. Grandma looked happy but i didnt talk to her this time around- how could i forget? i may go to hell for that.

2.) Worn with thick brown stains and unpleasant odors, the moth eaten green couch sat idiotically in the corner of the coffee lounge. A newcomer might have been taken aback by the debris on the floor- junk mail, discarded newspapers but everybody here was ancient. Time stood still. Several slightly retarded secretaries on break busied themselves at the dusty computers, showing their fat behinds to Terri. Terri, who brought her "I Don't do Mondays" mug to her lips and frowned. She sluggishly made her way to the counter and emptied a creamer into the beverage. "Terri, long week?" inquired Alex.
"Long life. I dont know how much longer i can take it here Alex."
"You should put in some time for vacation."
"Where can i go with 40 bucks?"
"El Polo Loco and Ross maybe?"
"Go ahead, kick me when i'm down."

3.) To quote the sage from Menlo Atherton, Fast John S, the straw that broke the camel's hymen was the inability to fix typos and errors in yerspace blog- so who needs it? Grow a pair for crying out loud! Lately the only music i can write to is old jazz records from the forties and fifties. Got some buddy hacket lounge tunes on the p3 player, the brasshorn permeating through the windows of the foggy Westside. What a night it's been. what a night.

Currently Playing: To Make you Misty (1959) by Jackie Gleason

B.) MARCH 2006. Last night big Greg and I caught the potty mouthed girl next door foxy Sarah Silverman at the hollywood improv; as the orchestra cued "sweet home alabama," the audience erupted in resounding applause. An adorable brunette in t-shirt and jeans takes the mic and says, " I really love that song. That's what they played when I was being raped." and boom we're off to the races being killed softly by jimmy kimmel's gf. Sure, most of the monologue was old hat- heard it on yuo tube before but to see it live was a treat in and of itself. Second billing at the world famous improv went to surprise guest, Carlos Mencia, a man despised for joke stealing with the complete opposite approach to stand up. This motherf#cker must have been doped up prior to ascending the stage, because he was riding the furniture and deepthroating the big black microphone like nobody's business. When the gloves come off it's every man for himself and toes were stepped on, especially the three heavyset girls in the front row.

C.) On Oscar night bustling hollywood boulevard was cordened off, crawling with bomb squad and LAPD holding back rabid fans flashing their digital cameras. In the mix with limousines and burly body guards were right wing nutjobs touting "gays burn in hell" signs, protesting Brokeback Mountain. There are ways to do things and there are ways to f#ck things up for your cause and these western talibanis ought to have just kept their mouths shut. They would never getaway with that in west hollywood- samo and robertson, aka little stonewall. One of the first times i visited the southland outside of college i wanted to see what all the fuss was about and ended up so out of place on santamonica blvd. It's an unusual mix this west hollywood, where bordering beverly hills is Boy's Town and a little east of that- fairfax brea beverly is Little Israel, a place with a synagogue on every corner. On Friday and saturday nights entire families walk down beverly in dark black attire, chicago windy city hats, beards, curly side burns, yamikas, and worship tassels dangling to their sides. Funny that conservatives complain of Mexicans, Salvis, and Arabs not "assimilating" to american culture and yet say next to nothing about the traditional Jews in weho.

1.) MARCH 2006. Spent a four hour holiday in suncup with Ma Pa and Matt, highlighted by a visit to death by sashimi at the generically named "california buffet." All you can eat sushi, korean barbeque, chow mein, wontons, fried chicken, collard greens, egg rolls, and potstickers. but food took a backseat to more pressing matters- Ma survived a traumatic car wreck on the foothill expressway offramp and continues to have recurring nightmares of being t-boned by a sixteen wheeler. Mr. Karoke, our longtime neighbour, suggested a careful examination for latent spinal trauma which has an incubation period of two years. Ma and I spent some quiet moments glancing at old photo albums of better times. a stroll down memory lane- those really were the good old days? The jarring transition from 3rd to 4th grade was a cruel splash of cold frizzy water. new school, no friends it was like starting over from scratch. More obnoxious fights at home over finances. What's past is passed- you tackle the problems you have today and try to see what you can do about fixing them for tomorrow.

2.) February 2006. After Charlie's rock concert at the dingy Gig on murky Melrose he subsequently had some pretty people over upstairs in room 314. Stunned by her elegance, I stupidly shook paws with a dazzling glamour girl from missouri who came out west with nothing but her hopes and her dreams. Ashley's a soulful singer, I heard her belt out a faith hill song on karaoke night at the Hollywood Barney's where she waitresses to pay rent and buy food until her big break comes. I swear, 10 jessica simpsons step off the bus everyday here in the valley of the sun to taste a piece of the pie and show their family back home that they made it to the bigtime.

3.) Waking up groggily ten minutes short of noon, i joined nate on the beer stained couch as the Steelers pounded the living hell out of denver on his 80 inch plasma screen. fascinating shit. Later on had my manhood questioned by Alfredo for having the audacity to watch women's figure skating on Espn. And then there was the Seahawks Redskins game up at Seth's place in the Hollywood hills. the deep fried turkey they fixed up was deelicious and i tossed the black lab a piece of the drumstick. Pop was right- you gotta live before you can write. By the way, downtown l.a., broadway street is little central america- the poor parts, garbage on every street, puddles of urine in every doorway, the foul stench of wherever you turn, but construction is on the way- is it beyond repair?