today is angelina jolie’s twenty ninth birthday,

so she asked me to write a post about riding the bus since she says its her favorite part of reading the busblog.

its funny she had such a request because today was a fascinating day on the los angeles metro rapid transit system.

since i spent the night at clipper girl’s house i walked over to the los feliz metro station and waited for the elevator to take me down to the subway. the mexican lady kept the elevator button mashed in as if it would speed things along. now you know why the elevators are always broken i hissed in spanish.



two things that irritate me when i ride the subway. one is dudes with bikes during rush hour in the subway, the other are people with suitcases. they clog up any open space. if youre taking the la subway to the airport youre a loser. and as sk smith would say, i hope you get the clap. and if youre riding your bicycle after you get off the subway during rushour youre a double loser. a loser squared. i hope your bike seat racks you in front of a park bench full of hotties.

sat on the cement bench and waited for the train to arrive. i cracked open a book i just got off ebay, mooch by dan fante. hes awesome. i should bake a pie for my neighbor for turning me on to him.

train finally arrives and a woman runs down to the far end of the train to get a seat. dumb ho. theres lots of seats on the subway, no need to run to the less-crowded cars. cant avoid the minorites anyway, lady. we’re going to sit next to you no matter where you try to hide.

“what book are you reading,” this kid asks me.

i tell him.

“mooch? is that a bad word?”

there are no bad words i tell him.

“sure there are, nigger, spic, fucker…” he says. hes got a white undershirt on. big, baggy, xxxl black pants. shaved head. gangster 101 outfit. wifebeater underneath his undershirt. huge gold crucifix around his neck. tattoo of the virgin mary under his left ear.

those arent bad words, i tell him. those are great words.

now everyone is listening.

i continue: theyre good words because theyre descriptive and powerful. if three white guys are playing bridge with a black dude and someone says, hey wheres juan, and someone says, oh my nigga is right over there with those jagoffs, then you know immediately which one juan is.

the train stopped at wilshire and western and i got off to a car full of gaping mouths.

but i was right and my new friend and i touched knuckles and took on the day.

aluminum foil cubicle + zulieka made it home safe + i will never blog for nike

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