im thinking about having a summer tour for LAist

sort of a traveling meet n greet to acclimate the rest of the country, and parts of canada, to LA and our fine blog.

im thinking about getting a 5-gallon bucket and filling it up with sand from venice beach or malibu or somewhere, and then hitting the road. kissing the girls and giving sand to the kids.

the hits are good at LAist but they could be better. plus id like a few more writers. im not even sure they need to live in LA. people shouldnt be punished just because they dont chill in the 323.

since its a thousand degrees across the country, showers are worthless so i will sleep in my car and blog under the stars using the evdo card.

staying in my home is doing nothing good for me. all im doing is falling in love with a girl a fraction my age who i have no future with, slacking at my responsibilities, and getting fat.

shes knows im straight edge but likes it when i ramble as we lay naked and she plays with her hair. so what she’ll do is take a huge bong-rip in the bathroom when im not looking and walk over to me, stand on her tippytoes and give me a long deep kiss while slowly exhaling the smoke.

i know she doesnt really want to kiss me.

minutes later im rambling down a verbal highway. last night we talked about gravity for an hour as i walked around the house trying to find new and different things to stick in her privates.

not forcefully, just the tip.

given long hot nights where the heat just slows down your metabolism and you dont want to go outside but youre bored of being inside, you can find a remarkable amount of things that can go in a willing college girl’s nethers.

after a while i starting making a pile. things that were funny going in there, things that werent funny and/or didnt fit.

the thing is im not the perv because i would rather just lay on the couch with her and hold her hand and watch tivo but i get broken up with when i do that with girls, i get huge rewards when i do this shit with the ladies.

you encourage me, its not my fault.

matt good called me yesterday and he has a private number. ive been able to train pretty much everyone i know to unblock their number before they call me, or just not have blocked numbers. therefore i know its a pretty good chance that if the phone rings and the caller ID says “private number”, its your boy.

well this afternoon the phone rang and it was a private number so i picked up the phone with a “canada sucks, its an america jr wannabe, nobody cares about hockey, and fuck tim hortons.”

but it was somebody trying to help me sell my home.

the pants + jimh + sweaty blistered sneaker toe + kali

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