-- It's stunning how much time one can waste when one has wheels.
Even if one has little or no money, driving around, especially in LA, is
an amazing way to waste time. To give you an idea, yesterday I was
bored, so I drove down to the noodie bar at like 2 PM, when it's cheap.
Well, it's always "cheap", but you know what I mean. So after 45
minutes I leave, cuz, well, I got bored there, too. I decided I wanted
to drive to Westside Pavilion, normally about a 10 minute drive north on
the 405. Traffic was bad, so I decided to take surface streets.
45 minutes later I'm in Koreatown, with no idea of how I got there, and
about 30 minutes east of Westside. So I killed 75 minutes yesterday
just trying to get to the mall.
Saw lotsa of limos yesterday. Soul Train music awards were jumpin' off, that's why. At one intersection, these motorcycle traffic cops blocked off the intersection to let a limo caravan go by -- it was like the way they did it in Clear and Present Danger, except with limos instead of Suburbans, and no rocket launchers.
Shit, what else is going one with my life? Nothing, really. I keep flaking on Maya to hang out wit da' boys. I went drinking in K-Town the other nite, but I was so full from dinner that I couldn't drink much. I had four beers, tops, that was it. It was the first time I've ever been unable to drink because I was full. I felt totally fine driving home and didn't have even a remnant of a hangover the next morning; too much food. Maya's gotta hate me -- I'm just a stupid flaky guy. I wasn't always this flaky. It must be Ray's fault -- he the bad influence. Maybe I'll buy Maya a movie and dinner. OK, a cheap dinner, but still, I owe her, and she doesn't deserve to have me flaking on her when she did so much for me.
Oh yeah, Scott came back from Florida yesterday and took his truck back. He's actually moving back out there next week, so there's a chance I might be able to snag his wheels, even for a short time. It's a total piece of crap, but hey, it rolls -- good quality Japanese product. I'm going to start calling Scott "Short Bus", like those retarded kids who had to take the little yellow bus to school, instead of the long one. He's an idiot. He called me on Wednesday to tell me his flight was coming in at 7:30 (I get the message at like 5:30). I call my parents for the info, and then they tell me he's coming in at 7:30, but on Friday. Idiot. And he told me flight 681, but he transferred from flight 681 in Nashville, and took 115 out here to LAX. This is a microcosm of who he is -- something as simple as telling me the correct arrival information for his flight practically turns into a plot for a sitcom episode.
Oh yeah, and his flight was 40 minutes early coming into LAX. This wasn't his fault, of course, but it's still fun to blame him. Short Bus.
As much as I hate the new "Puff Daddy" wave of sampling, I love the two new tracks that borrow from 80's TV theme songs -- Busta Rhymes' takes one from Knight Rider, and somebody else takes one from Magnum PI. The latter is so dope, I gotta get it. Maybe I'll find somewhere to steal it from.
Ray knows this girl who says she's be a stripper in a second if she had the body for it. I guess her roommate's one, and she sees how much money they rake in for a few days a week work. I can personally testify as to how much money a stripper can make in a short while. Hell, if I were a chick, and looked good, I'd strip in a second, too. Nuttin' wrong with it. If stupid a man wants to fork over $80 in 20 minutes for watching you dance nude, hell, let em!
OK, I know I've been getting away from writing, but I'm planning to spend a lot more time in the lab to work on my history project (Yeah, RIGHT!), so I'll be updating a little more often. Plus, I wanna bum rush the scanners and get as much work in as possible on em'.