1. Friday, December 1, 2006

    its 736am 

    i havent been to sleep yet. we have to stop meeting like this.

    but last night i hosted our LAist monthly drink meeting and i talked a lot about you, the busblog readers, and all that youve done for me over the years. a couple of the LAist fellas who i had never met before said that they read the busblog before meeting me and that was nice.

    one guy turned out to be from Toronto and i said i had been to TO twice before and while explaining why i went there the first time (to see Matt Good in kitchner) he was all omg Matt Good is my favorite musician. i was all omg i’ll have to tell him that. and he was all omg you have his email address. and i was all omg.

    we were in the valley.

    the chimney sweep bar which is right next to this chicago hotdog place.

    the chimney sweep has a jukebox thats connected to the interweb and when you make your selection it downloads the music and plays it instantly. therefore its capable of having tons of cds. therefore i played one replacements song after another. the jukebox charges fifty cents a song if it has to download it. therefore we spent a lot of money on the jukebox but we heard the pixies, nurvana, jesus and mary chain, dinosaur jr. you know all the songs from our youth.

    i drove home and went to the grocery store and got some firewood cuz its been buttcold here. 39 degrees at night. i cussed out mother nature in a little aside on Laist yesterday. but for the next few days we should return to more normal winter temps of 70s.

    i wouldnt know, though because im going to Orlando tomorrow to celebrate an early christmas with my mom and sister and brother in law and neice and nephew and hopefully meet Nay and this hooters girl and partake in the major league baseball winter meetings.

    i want to persuade the cubs to invest in Barry Zito as opposed to Jason Schmidt.

    although if somehow we stole Manny Ramirez when noone was looking that might be pretty rad. and if we did that we wouldnt need any pitchers. i could fucking pitch with my overhand knuckler and my quickpitch and my hit barry bonds in the fucking head pitch that ive mastered.

    one of the fine ladies of LAist got a phone call when we were about to drink margueritas at the mexican place that we moved on to. it was her friend, her friends house just burned down. which in a weird way is perfect because i dont like leaving my house without having a housesitter. and now i have one.

    see how things work out when you drink?

    we celebrated the fact that last month LAist tripled the numbers of last year.

    and we celebrated that one of the contributers wrote a novel during NAMO

    and we celebrated the fact that Al Gore totally went crazy all over George Bush yesterday and you should read it, its on your favorite city blog