-- Holy Shinto, I'm poor. Time to reach into the ole' Bank
of Ray/Dave/Roomates to get a little dough. But you know, if I didn't
have any friends, I'd have a lot more money. A lot more miserable,
but more money. Keep in mind that my friends are generally super
dope on paying for those who don't have money, but still, the little expenditures
add up when you ain't got jack. I'm also soaking from the damn rain.
No, I still don't have an umbrella.
Last nite I actually went to a driving range with Paul and Das. I'd never swung a golf club in my life. According to Paul and Dave, I did well for a first timer. I personally felt a lot more confident about it than I did about my bowling expedition. But yeah, towards the end I could hit a golf ball with an 8-iron at least 80 yards about 50% of the time. Not with much accuracy, mind you, but hey, I'm a neophyte. Golf swings are so unnatural -- a lot more unnatural than a bowling swing, that's for sure. How these guys get the power to launch it 300 yards is amazing -- control is SO difficult. There was this one guy there who was just launching em -- I never saw them start to come down, they just climbed and climbed.
James came by, and then Ray came by later, so we went to this dive that Ray knew of in Culver City. It was really something of redneck bar -- some people there in cowboy hats singin' country songs, but actually it was just more of a white trash crowd. When we walked in, there was this old guy stumbling towards us, it almost seemed like he was crippled. He wasn't -- just really hammered. He walked outside and just fell down on the sidewalk. We took that as a sign that this was a good place to drink. So we drank a lot. James, oh my gosh, Jimbo Kimbo is a man. I said it last nite and I'll say it again -- I respect James. A lot. He is the ajuhshi to end all ajuhshis. He danced, he drank, he's a madman. A triple Jack n' Coke, in two gulps, is amazing to me. If you paid me $1000 I probably couldn't do that. I'm a wussy, James is a man. Photos will be a comin'.
So yeah, we drank, we had fun, we all left. Dave dropped me off, and I smoked up and went out onto the balcony. There was this party going on one floor down and one apartment over, so I was looking down at it, and these two girls were like, "Hey guy, come on down!" So I went on down, and it was this Latino party. Probably about 85% Latino. I've honestly probably never been so surrounded by Latinos in my life -- even in TJ. Anyhow, the two girls weren't all that, but there was this one girl there who I saw who was pretty damn cute. In any case, all the girlies were dancing, and I wanted to drink more, so I drank some half-full Corona I found lying around, and I had a vodka shot on the balcony with a buncha other people. I was hanging out, mesmerized by the strobe light they had goin' and lookin' for a cutie to talk to (actually, anyone to talk to), until Stephan showed up. He walked in, I saw him and started calling his name. Musta been a weird experience for him -- he walks into a strange party and someone starts calling his name from the darkness. So Stephan and I hung out a bit and we left, I went back up to my apartment and smoked out more. I still don't know whose party it was. Anyhow, I passed out and this morning I did not feel good. But I didn't get sick, and considering how droned (drunk and stoned) I was, I'm feeling fine now. Usually I avoid getting droned cuz I'm guaranteed to feel ill.
Shit, I'm supposed to hang out with Maya, like really really soon, and I'm broke. I gotta borrow money. I've been promising to take her to a movie (i owe her one), and yesterday I said I would. Actually, Michelle wants to hang out, too. She ain't doing anything, and yesterday wuz her B-Day, so I definetly need to at least take her to a movie. They both wanna do the movie thang, and it's pouring, so it's not like I can avoid it and we can just walk around in the beautiful LA weather. Damn El Nino! But man, now I got all these women wanting to see me on V-Day, and I got no money!! Ah, the life of Haole.
Man, I must hang out with some of the biggest Asian rednecks in LA. They bowl, drink and enjoy Coors Lite, like country music, and go to redneck bars. Hmm, I wonder if my redneck roots somehow make me gravitate towards rednecks? Hopefully I won't catch or hear of anyone watching the Daytona 500 this weekend. If I do, oh damn, then it's time for an intervention.
Sorry this isn't as interesting as it should be -- last nite was a lotta fun -- but I'm worrying about money and how I'll pay for today. I gotta rush outta here. Maybe I'll comment on last nite more fully when I got the time. If you got the time, you got the beer...