Friday, October 24, 2003


I'm Out Of Town. In Vancouver, actually. So while you may have read that as the Canadian pronounciation of the word "out", I actually meant it as an acronym of sorts.

Vancouver so far is pretty good. I'll try to update here and there but I'm already doing daily (sometimes more often) updates for the local AIGA chapter, so my blogging bandwidth is pretty much already taken.

Monday, October 20, 2003

on (almost) any sunday

almost any sunday i'm hanging out at the farmer's market on main street in santa monica. what's nice about this particular farmer's market is well, it's sunday morning and there's a nice grassy area to hang out at, lots of fresh produce and tchochkes, lots of good hot food prepared right there, ponies for the kiddies to ride, etc. it's just a fun little neighborhoody kind of scene, exactly what i was looking for when i moved to that side of town, with local merchants mixed in among the farmers' stalls.

this sunday i was there with a couple of friends stuffing my face with a savory crepe filled with brie, bacon, green onions, and egg and powering down large organic nicaraguan coffee from the local coffee roaster and watching the regulars do their thing. there is a usual cast of characters, the familiar merchants of course, the shaved-head woman who breast feeds her twins in public, the weird leather faced european woman who sort of walks back and forth screaming, the balloon-twister guy, and more importantly, lots of hot mamas. literally, like when did mommies get so hot? *drool*

Friday, October 17, 2003

when life gets in the way

when life gets in the way of blogging, well... we have problems. probably post this weekend maybe, but i'm pretty damn busy.

Tuesday, October 14, 2003

yes or no

torpor. torpor.

next on martha's kitchen: knitted kozys for your forties.

so i was up late last night watching the late late show with craig kilborn (whatever) because of course paul weller was on, and multitasker that i am, i was concurrently installing panther on my computer(s). anyway, whatever, the show finishes and i'm still working on the computers and whatnot and martha stewart's show comes on afterwards. whatever, i'm not watching at this point--it's just background noise, she's making tortilla casseroles and whatnot, i'm ignoring it, then all of a sudden she's making duct tape wallets. what the fuck? not only is she making duct tape wallets, but camo duct tape wallets. (!) i mean, i think of gutterpunks or crafty art school kids when i think of duct-tape wallets, not martha stewart omnimedia.

i guess when mainstream society co-opted skateboarding and snowboarding and all the other action sports, i should have known that the world was going to hell--times have sure changed. seriously, i can't imagine what it would be like to be in high school these days--when i was in school, you had your jocks and you had your skaters and you had your geeks. these days, there are literally more skateboarders than there are little league players, and it's at least as likely, if not more likely that someone will want to idolize tony hawk or mat hoffman or kelly slater and go home and play their signature videogame as much as they want to be derek jeter or kobe bryant or whoever. this is a good thing, for sure. however, the ridiculous "jock" attitude has crept into these other action sports, and that is a bad thing. kids will be kids i guess, but the bad attitudes, posturing and bullying once reserved for the court or field has started to replace the feeling of camaraderie and acceptance that you used to enjoy at the skatepark or the local street spot.

having said all that and completely off topic since i can come to no conclusion about the co-opting of alternative culture into mainstream culture (and i realize it's fine, it's helping the sports grow, it's allowing people to be professional athletes and to do what they love to do for a living, i'm just bitter), i just had a wonderful beef brisket burrito from the fresh/pre-made section at whole foods. (i've said it before and here, i'll say it again--seriously, half of the people in there at any time look like they just came from yoga--this is not a bad thing necessarily, i'm used to it--i live in venice remember, there are probably 8 yoga studios within a half mile of me.) a sublime experience, this burrito from the border girls (mary sue milliken and susan feniger from border grill, the two hot tamales?), damn i didn't want that burrito to end. speaking of whole foods (who was doing brisk business due to the supermarket strikes going on here in so cal), i know it's a shame that we have to pay for water, but how can they well those 1.5 liter bottles for $.59? amazing! i guess it's to offset all the other ridiculous boatloads of cash that you spend there on food.

can you tell i'm procrastinating right now?

Monday, October 13, 2003

the way to my heart.

i was longing for a drink to chase away the blues yesterday, and to complete my act of self-loathing, i thought maybe i would pump some of my hard-earned cash directly into governor schwarzenegger's wallet (like he needs it). so i walked up the street to schatzi last night to meet some friends for happy hour. that's right, happy hour on a sunday, and a real honest-to-goodness cheap drinks and food happy hour. maybe our new governor does know the way to my heart.

Friday, October 10, 2003

am i crazy?

i see these billboards and all i can think is "he really looks like a little noel gallagher"

i need to get out more. oh wait, that's all i've been doing lately. this is why i'm too brain dead to blog. i got booted from house of blues last night for drunkenly taking flash photos. oops. today, i am very tired. back to the regularly scheduled posts next week.

Wednesday, October 08, 2003

sore loser

so i voted and i lost. i blame the rest of the state. at least los angeles county voted against the recall, as did most of nor cal, it ws the pesky rest of the state, the santa barbarians, the people behind the orange curtain (of fucking course), etc. etc.

can we just go ahead and fall into the ocean now?

Tuesday, October 07, 2003

the civic duty.

i'm going to set aside my narcissism for a second and mention that i voted this morning. after half an hour of picking out a voting outfit (too patriotic? not patriotic enough? just kidding), i traipsed down to the local art gallery, (my appointed polling place) waited in line dutifully and cast my vote on the recall (no), possible replacement, and the two initiatives.

i swear to you i gave arnold a chance, but i had to vote against him. i went to his bar/restaurant a couple of times to see if maybe had some further-reduced happy hour specials to try to buy the local venice community's vote, but no dice. sexual predatory nature aside, the man clearly does not know what is important to me.

anyway, i wear my "i voted" sticker with pride.

Sunday, October 05, 2003

Saturday, 4 October 2003 in EXCRUCIATING DETAIL

Yesterday, I woke up at 7am, installed a bunch of software onto a laptop I'm selling, drove across town (with a stop at a coffee shop ) to west hollywood by 8:45am for my every 2 or 3 weeks haircut and a sit down with my favorite magazine, finished up around 10:15, went to the mall to go to a store where i picked up some clothes for a party later that evening. After that, I went to a store on sawtelle in west l.a. to pick up a birthday present for my friend lauren. I went home for an hour or so to take care of some business, then headed out to the promenade, where i ate at a pan-asian restaurant, visited my sister at the store she works at, shopped for some books at an art and architecture bookstore , drank more coffee, had some margaritas, perused some hardware and software at a computer store,, then finally went back to west l.a. for the jordan crane reception for a couple of hours, then to another gallery space where i saw some people i hadn't talked to in a long time, including ray motherfucking barbee (google that one). After that, it was off to chinatown for some birthday drinks at one of my favorite new-ish bars, then thai town in hollywood for some 2am eats.

and today, i'm staying in.

Friday, October 03, 2003

the rumors are true. hell yeah, the rumors are true.

a really good friend of mine was out here last week from new york for a job interview and mentioned that there was a steady stream of hot airline stewardesses staying at the hotel he was at, which incidentally was 2 blocks from my office. i found this extremely difficult to believe as my office is in the middle of, well, Torrance, but due to the dearth of decent places to go (redondo/hermosa/manhattan beaches do not count, don't EVEN try to front), i'm willing to try anything, so i dragged one of my buddies on a reconnaissance mission after work.

paydirt, paydirt, paydirt.

ingrid at the foot doctor

i�m writing this from the waiting room of discount tire center instead of watching �the best damn sports show period� and reading 3 year old issues of field and stream, us magazine, and time magazine. why is it that no normal people get flat tires? everyody that hs been in here has been sort of the fringes of society:
crazy eastern european family--does it really take two adults and a 9 year old to choose a tire for their honda accord?

�chuck�--chuck wears white pumas, chinos, black webbed belt, and a yellow long sleeve shirt (tucked in, natch). chuck is inhis late 40s and drives a late-model charcoal gray bmw 3-series convertible (nice). chuck freaks out when they tell him that tires for his car are very expensive. chuck is probably leasing his car and his tires are probably more than his payment. chuck walks out special ordering some korean tires for his nice car.
crazy old man--i will not get close to this donald sutherland-looking motherfucker for fear he will talk to me--i walked outside to use the phone and saw him giving him an earful to one of the poor tire salesman who made the mistake of going for a smoke break.
squat korean girl--hello young lady. inexplicably she was carrying a boxed version of adobe phtotoshop in her bag, which would not close. nice jeans which were too long and being ruined by her barely visible pumas.
pimp--this guy is so pimp. straw hat, woven leather shoes that match in style and weave and color with his woven leather belt, light green shirt, light gray slacks. pimp-ass caddy de ville with the gold package. what does this motherfucker do? dayum.

does no normal person ever have tire problems, or what? oh look, my car is almost done. did i mention that my wheel came off this morning with a swift kick? something i may have thought of doing last night if i wasn�t wearing flip-flops.

Thursday, October 02, 2003

i swear to you, i am a MAN.

i don't want to turn this into a whole "Does that make me gay?" thing (I can assure you I'm not. It's not even a question), but today after work I had a fairly emasculating experience.

There were some after-work cocktails had for someone's birthday (I was lobbying for a bar in a hotel that my well-informed sources say contains hot stewardesses on "LAYover", but I ended up losing to a nondescript strip-mall anchoring Irish bar which smelt of battered and fried foods), and as long-standing and long-suffering readers know, I partook. Pleasantries were exchanged, drinks were had, merriment was made, and lo and behold it was time for me to mosey on to my next appointment for the evening with my non-work friends. Fine. I get in the car, notice I need gas (ugh, $30 a tank these days, I thought we bought Iraq for the oil) and slough off to the filling station.

I notice at the gas station that my right rear tire is a bit low, so after filling up (did I mention $30+?), I went to fill up the rear tire, only to hear a hissing noise emanating from a ruptured sidewall (no doubt due to careless parallel parking on my part).

Ok. Now I've changed many a tire in my life, it's pretty simple.
1) get the jack--I know where this is. I've had a flat before, it's beneath the floor of the cargo area of my soccer mom wagon.
2) find the jack receptacle--done. midway along the car, the jack fits in perfectly.
3) jack the car up--done. at this point I'm feeling pretty good about myself and am seriously considering giving up advertising for a job on a pit crew for a race team somewhere. "Formula 1 maybe, the chicks are better--maybe NASCAR, the chicks are dumber--even better? Maybe I can do both, I wonder what their seasons are like..."
4) remove the lug nuts from the wheel--I'm strong for my size, this is not a problem, I understand how to use leverage to my advantage, that career in the pit crew looks pretty good right about now.
5) remove the wheel from the car--"Hmmm... why isn't this coming off?" I tug, I wiggle, I lift, I shake, nothing. I yank, I use leverage, I pry, nothing. I mean, I'm pulling so hard the car is about to fall off the fucking jack I'm pulling so hard. I'm playing tug-of-war in the Battle of the Network Stars, I'm pulling and leveraging so hard.


I fill the tire with air and drive the fucker home faster than air can leak out. I'm dealing with it in the morning. The fucker is stuck. Humiliating.

On the other hand, I'd like to see you try to do it without getting your paper jeans and buffalo shirt dirty. in flip flops. I swear to you i'm not gay, just borderline metrosexual. Even then, I swear to you this has nothing to do with the fact that I couldn't change the tire on my own car. uhh... wagon.