if you ever catch me bitching again, tell me to knock it off.

if you ever see me mopey or whiney or bashful or sleepy, remind me who i am and what time it is and what my role is in this divine comedy, its not that of which ive been playing.

i live one of the most blessed lives of anyone. ive waltzed through this slam dance with the greatest of ease. the good lord even found me a way to get a college degree without grades or finals or tests. i have been in the public eye in one manner or another with tremendus approval. i started and ran my own business for years, employed friends, and quit cuz it was too easy and cuz money isnt everything.

this town is warm. its gorgeous. its full of life. and its mine.

every band comes through here, and the best band, the house band, are my friends. how often does that happen. if youre me, always. and the rest of my friends, pretty much all here, all cool, all rocking.

im depressed because the golden snoop deville of love hasnt rolled up next to the subway stop as the virgins dance and the midgets throw confetti and the elephants stand on their hind legs.


have i lost my fool mind?

meanwhile, in real life, i actually do have a cool job, and i am important to the process, and i am respected, and liked, and the chicks are hot, man. fuck! and being hollywood theres celebs everywhere, and thats sorta a thrill when you least expect it, which i like. and i can wear sneakers and shorts if i wanna.

and then theres all of you. whoever you are. and this, whatever this is. the biggest bonus for me off the internet since napster. like the dude said in american pie, God bless the Internet. ive gotten to work for two awesome startups thanks to the http, and the biggest company in the world. ive gotten to travel, and write and talk and teach people about the coolest newest thing on the journey of mankind.

how can i bitch when a third of this planet has to walk somewhere to get to their water supply and ive got tivo.

yes im old. as fuck. but i look good for my age. and all of my parts work fine.

not everybody has all their parts workin fine. so be thankful if you do, ingrates.

my buddy chris called me yesterday to tell me he had an extra white stripes ticket for me in section a, and still i had the nerve to wake up this morning and decide that i was going to be a grumpy little bitch all day because the playmate the mansion was sending over was running a little late as she was painting her toenails extra special for my black ass. and there i was looking at my tag like a yuppie and tapping my feet.

i shoulda been in that crazy train in disneyland.

so anyways, im sorry for listening to the demons too closely

their song i guess sucked me in

sunday theres football, i know, im a dope

and on encore is lord of the rings

bing + true + katie

how can i be in such a crappy mood today?

the cubs are on a hot streak, its friday, my boss isnt here today, its nice out, football season has begun (pictured), i get to see my truest on sunday, clipper girl’s cousin wants to come over tonight. everything should be awesome right now. i should be feeling like a million. instead i feel about a quarter million.

was late for the subway, hated the people getting out of the elevator. got to the bench, hated the woman with the loud heels clicking her way all the way down to me. hated that she sat next to me. released a little gas. hated that she didnt notice.

got on the subway, hated that it was my happy good morning good morning subway guy who is always peppy and awesome. actually didnt hate him for very long. loved him pretty immediately. transfered trains. didnt hate anyone till i got to the escalator, hated this guy in a pinstripe suit and flip flops. hated him for a good 100 feet then saw this guy run to the elevator. this elevator is like gold to most of the commuters who dont want to take the second escalator. you save maybe 3 seconds if you can get on the elevator and it rises just as you get on. but thats not what ever happens. some ass always comes running just as the doors are closing to squeeeeeeze in and then you have to wait for the doors to decide to close and then you and your twenty newest cramped friends ride the 20 feet up and you dont have to use the terribly frightening escalator.

whatever. i hated everyone. especially those who didnt walk up the escalator but stayed planted on the left and right sides, blocking me, who enjoyed the daily exercise of walking up the escalator. im not really a hater. im a lover. i normally love everyone and everything. but lately ive been in the foulest of moods. i feel like im in purgatory. i dont know if im up or down. black is white. white is black, we’re through the lookingglass people.

i wrote something this week that i thought completely kicked ass and only d-lo said anything nice about it and for that i am in lust with her. good old kristin split from her man and it made me sad. i dont like for nice people to have to end things. still. still. still i hated as i waited for the bus in the heat of the morning of the last days of disco. i have the biggest frowny frown on, i have friends all around me, people are talking nice nice about chopper one and you know one thing that i have a right to be pissed about are the tours. ok, hot chicks in business suits from all over the world come to hollywood to see chopper one. i dont know where these people are from and yet they come. they come here with their bosses, always men, always nodding, always sure that they know what theyre looking at, but they dont know shit. and what bothers me the most is that the guys who give the tours know less and they point at me like im the monkey boy and i am the monkey boy but they dont ever say, hey agent, would you like to say a few words about your vehicle?


especially when theres a hot babe in a business suit and skirt and a clipboard and visitors pass. what would i tell them?

i would say, what youre seeing here is a miracle. its poetry in motion. its a dream and a fantasy. if youre the wrong person its a nightmare. its the most deadly and illegal weapon that you’ll ever see and when its at its most dangerous you cant even see it. this is chopper one, the penthouse of the tower of babble. able to leap tall mountains with a single thought. able to become invisible with a click. able to make one person or thousands vomitous with two clicks. what youre seeing my friends is the begining and the end, the here and the now, the future and the past, what youre seeing is the baddest ass piece of magic that you probably shouldnt even know about and it can only be flown by one man using esp and that man is me and i want to quit.

maybe thats why they dont let me talk during the damn tour.

tif + coyote + annika + sahalie

by winning yesterday the cubs passed the cardinals

and are now a half game out of first place.

blogger just ate my post about la and you know what, thats fine. you should write at least once in the night and what i was writing was so dumb and my favorite town is isla vista anyway.

this is the place though where dreams come true.

tonight let me direct your attention to makeout city who appears to be taking the instapundit head on except instead of focusing on politics and the law, focuses on personal blogs like this one.

where j_e comes up with the time to read all of those blogs and then comment is beyond me.

what i do know is he’s on top of the action and thats why im always very happy when he says something nice about the busblog.

it’ll be interesting to see if makeout city can approach the ridiculously high numbers that instapundit.com gets, but if it worked for one type of reading, i dont see why it wouldnt work for another.

one ten am and my boss isnt coming into work tomorrow.

one twenty five and i just watched the sex pistols on jimmy kimmel.

in a perfect world thered be a sleepy girl whod at this hour would rub her eyes and ask me to go to bed with her.

and id have to type fast

as saturday night live reruns played softly on the giant tv built by hand in japan and right now my true love is with another.

makeout city says that he likes my advice to the kids so heres another one.

when its light, study, when its dark, party.

this answers the questions of “should i wake n bake?”

all depends on what time youre waking up.

if its light, study, when its dark, party.

all your classes are over by 11:30am on tuesdays and thursdays?

study. study hard. the more you want to have lunch with that hot chick or play pinball or anything, read something. and read it right because when it turns night youre going to drink everything in sight.

most of college is spent procrastinating. its spent falling asleep in the library, or going to get frozen yogurt, or talking on the phone, doing everything except studying. and then when people get it together they spend like two hours doing their work super tired and passing out at one thirty.

if you get out of class at 11:30am, take your sandwich to a grassy noll and read till 130pm and youve already beaten everyone in your class. then take a piss. then read till 2:30 and youre the smartest person in the world. then read some more for a different class until 4:30pm and remind yourself that happy hour is coming. then write for a few hours. if you turn on the tv youre an idiot. listen to zepelin floyd and janes addiction.

and after dinner you go show people how its done.

and if youre in islavista heres a bonus tip, bring your own cup and before you leave the house, finish your beer, and turn your cup upside down as you walk down the road.

open container tickets are for frat dudes from uc san diego, not locals.

nate + miss tang + sk smith