1. Wednesday, February 12, 2003

    last month in los angeles there wasnt a drop of rain. 

    thats not normal for the wintertime in southern california no matter what you might hear on you oldies radio stations.

    ive run across two sorts of attitudes about rain here in hollywood.

    “wow, we really need this rain.”

    and then there’s mine, “if i wanted rain i would move to seattle.”

    LA is an arid desert. we get our drinking water from northern cal. when i was in santa barbara they built a desalinization plant to turn the sea water into drinking water. it cost a bunch of money but so what? what good is being the richest country in the world if all youre going to do is build billion dollar stealth bombers?

    i wouldnt mind the rain so much if it didnt fuck up how the subway runs. we’ve gone over this. still somehow despite the fact that the subway is a mile beneath the ground, the shit always gets fucked up when it rains.

    people typically look glum in the morning on the subway, but get them all wet and have a bus speed by soaking them with a good splash from a cold puddle and you have a gloomy few cars of wet drippy souls.

    normally half the train is asleep as they rollick beneath this fair city, but this morning nobody could sleep because everyone was wet and cold and cranky and pissed off that they were poor and doomed to the depths.

    things werent any better above ground. somehow drivers in la think that rain provides a liquid safety buffer and on mornings like these people speed and splash and spiral and smash into each other.

    all of them.

    im pretty sure i heard on the radio this morning that every car on the 405 freeway got into an accident at 7:30am, and the 10 was even worse.

    the 720 dropped me off at la brea and i had to run two blocks in the rain with one shoelace untied to catch the 21 santa monica. it could be considered pathetic to some, but not to me because i caught that motherfucker.

    what was pathetic was the bum that i ended up sitting across from me.

    at least he wasnt foolish enough to pass up the dude at wilshire and western who was selling umbrellas for $5 a pop.

    last night an eighteen year old girl sent me an email inviting me over to her house in the good part of town to watch porn with her.

    shit like that will bring an extra skip to your sprint in the early morn.

    the photobloggies