yesterday i was feeling so sick, so sad, so out of it

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i pooped like five times. i nearly cried when i got home. i told amber to hug me but she just laughed

because everyone laughs when im out of sorts.

so i said please just hug me PLEASE

and finally she did but it wasnt the best hug so i said, please go outside and find someone good at hugging and bring them here.

first she brought this big fat guy who lives in a tent on the corner.

and he was pretty good but it didnt work,

then she brought OJ in, but meh

then she paraded in the Swedish Bikini Team but they were too rough. i wanted a simple warm, gentle hug.

so then amber tried again but nothing worked.

so i clapped twice which turned the lights out, i sipped some water and just laid there with my eyes closed as she cooked some shrimp with tofu over rice.

and i ate it and felt better.

and i apologized to her for shunning all of her attempts at lovin me.

and then around 11pm i felt better and no more poops tried to explode in my shorts

and i took a long walk around Hollywood

and counted my blessings.

im gonna start working on a secret project soon

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im no good at secrets any more because the xbi trained me how to keep a secret better than anyone but f the xbi

therefore f secrets

but this is an important one because if everything works out right it will benefit society

and deep down thats all i really wanna do for the rest of my life.

yesterday i was at lunch with a young man and we were in the drive thru and the young lady cashier had a unique name

and i asked her how she pronounced it.

then i asked her if she had run into anyone with that name before?

she said her grandma.

afterwards the gentleman asked me, almost in an annoyed manner

“why are you so nice to everyone?”

which at first seems like an odd question, but when you put yourself in other peoples shoes, maybe they havent had such a great life. maybe others have been mean to them. maybe their path has been hard. and maybe they have seen how being nice doesnt always equate to others being nice in return.

so i said, im nice here because i really do love people. i love how differently everyone thinks. how weird it is that everyone sounds different. i love fashions ppl wear. and best of all i love everyones stories and secretly i just want them to tell me great tales of wonder and intrigue.

real life stories are a million times more interesting than fiction. why? because people being themselves is way more interesting than falsifying the record.

which is why nothing in here is true.

you can do this you can do this you can do this

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any time i think that something might be too hard

or that someone has set up a stumbling block for me to trip on

or that because no one else has done it before, i cant

i think about bob dylan who never wrote these words but epitomizes them perfectly

you can do this you can do this you can do this

fuckers known as the greatest lyricist and songwriter of all time

yet if you went up to 100 people maybe one of them can sing you a song of his all the way through

but it would probably take you 500 people to find that one.

does that mean that his songs are any less special? no it means that they are complex and twisted and gnarled and break the rules of what pop music is “supposed” to be like.

which should be the goal of creative people. and ps we are all creative people.

you can do this

dylan was booed when he omg dared to put down his acoustic guitar and plug in and play an electric.

he was criticized — and is still maligned for not being a great singer

when he recorded a number of “Christian” or “Born Again” records he was ridiculed and those magnificent pieces were considered unworthy for his canon.

but did he pay any mind? did he pack up the plantation? did he give in to those who were a few steps behind him?

no he kept moving. which is why you can do this you can do this you can do this.

being a leader can be lonely, the bugs hit your windscreen more than those riding comfortably in your wake,

you have to blaze the path by cutting down the weeds with your machete of love,

you have to shake hands with the natives and build bridges and repair roadways

the others can simply coast behind you and tell their friends how much progress They’ve made in half the time it took you

but you know

to lead means to make the map, to learn the language, to set up milestones and alliances

to follow means to look out the window and take in the view.

even in a road race of a thousand cyclists there’s only one leader

and with each strenuous pedal he’s saying

you

can

do

this

you can

do this

you can do this

because yes you can.

i have lived the greatest life and i am so thankful

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today about 666 present and former employees of the LA Times joined together to say goodbye to the Times building

our home away from home

our home

our home.

i saw so many people who i never thought would be there. i saw faces whose names i didnt remember. i saw people who looked EXACTLY as they did when I was last there.

and i love them all

it was all so sweet.

in many ways it was just like we left it

“new” carpet and equipment and tv and stuff but almost everything was in the same place.

yes amber and i took the tour last month but that was a limited thing and we didnt get to talk to too many people

but this was different, this was a real homecoming where we got to wander around the sprawling building. which was a little weird without a lot of the pictures that used to line the walls, and framed iconic newspaper front pages that saluted you as you walked through the ground floor.

there was the elevator that i once rode with Rihanna as she was visiting her then-boyfriend Chris Brown

there was the office i once received a gigantic bonus in

there was the bathroom i once took a cool selfie in

and there was the spot where my desk once was where i learned that Michael Jackson had died

and where i watched Barack Obama get elected.

i feel that i am so lucky because these are some of the smartest and sharpest minds in the entire game.

old cohorts who are now here there and everywhere. we are so spread out but tonight we were together mixed in with the young writers, some of whom, weirdly, i know too.

i am so happy, which is weird because i thought i was gonna be so sad. i thought i was gonna cry the whole time.

this was my dream job. this is where i had hoped i could work at for so long.

this is where i wrote about on this blog time after time after time, never truly believing i would ever work at

and then when i was gone, a place i had thought had totally forgotten about me.

i was so wrong. i am always so wrong.

turned out people did remember me. and some knew me who had never met me.

we talked and hugged and i drank and we took so many pictures and i even got a few parting gifts. which is crazy because the whole thing was a gift.

you can dream. you can tell everyone what you want. and at some point you might even get a shot at what you want.

and then its all about working working working to feel like you belong.

to feel like you deserve to be there.

i may never feel that way no matter how great our results were, but i was there.

i was in the game.

i got to see the thing from the inside

and i am so grateful, it’s crazy.

but you know whats really crazy? that in a few weeks this will all be gone.

the place where so much happened.

where everything and everyone happened

it will all be gone.

just more square footage to be rented out.

life is so bizarre

ask for what you want, then french kiss it.

only got a few hours of sleep last night, which is rare

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usually amber and i watch a Sopranos or two and hit the hay once she starts snoring.

sometimes im the one who snores first.

then someone shuts off the tv, claps twice and the christmas lights and aroma therapy stops and the cats realize it’s the end of another broadcast day.

but yesterday was a good day for lots of reasons. so good that as she and i were walking home from dinner i spotted a Bird scooter right there on Sunset. i looked on my app to see if it was a decent reward to charge it up and free it in the morning and sure enough it was worth $11. so i took it and charged it.

amber usually works very early in the morning and often she kisses me goodbye and that will send me back to a peaceful slumber but sometimes it riles me up and i cant get back to sleep. because i hadnt slept well i had a hard time getting back.

so i watched tv and looked at my phone and fed the cats and considered releasing the bird.

but everything i did i did in slow motion and with the hope that i would get groggy and pass out for one more hour. for a half hour. for 15 more minutes. but no.

my mind was racing. so many ideas. so many weird thoughts, oh so many.

and now its a bit after noon and my body is like mmmmm nap fool. nap.

but now is when the world wants me.

and i want it.

sometimes things are good

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and you dont wanna talk too much about them because you dont wanna jinx it

even though you dont believe in jinxes

but you just wanna let everything fall in place the way they seem to be falling

and not be the thing that clogs up the system.

took a guy from the beach up the 405 and then we wound our way through Sherman Oaks

up in the hills, in places i hadn’t been before because im not all that familiar with the val

and he had an interesting disposition like he was just about to erupt at any minute.

he had what i have when i have kidney stones and im waiting for the one thing to lead to the other thing

which eventually leads to someone eventually giving me morphine or demoral or heroin

whatever phony name they wanna call it

which eventually kills the pain and guides me to a beautiful dreamy sleep.

but before that happens you have to deal with The World which is full of People

and typically i am in love with those things but when theres a little baby asteroid in my loins i hate everyone

mostly because i am not allowed to say, look i know what the problem is, i drink too much pop

and the stone has been created, and it’s too big for my body and now i need that one or two shots of H

please and thank you.

this guy was like me. this guy was ready to pop. this guy, even when we were talking about happy things, had this edge

and i wanted to tell him look, we’re gonna get there, it’s gonna be ok. everythings gonna be fine.

and because of the 4th and the 100 degree heat (which was 112 in the val) traffic was amazing because everyone else said

fuck. this.

and stayed home in their airconditioning or pool side or ocean side

it was a dream.

and i didnt think i was gonna get a tip from him because even though we had a lot in common,

he didnt seem the happiest guy

and i didn’t really have the morphine he was probably looking for.

but alas the next day i checked the app, and boom, he tipped me $10

and i did a little jig in my sweltering apartment.

deep down im a basic bitch

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i eat mcdonalds, i drink cokes, i still pay for cable.

so naturally i ran outside to see the fireworks last night.

the pretty girl had been napping because she had woken up at 4:20am to get to work.

around 8pm she was all, “10 more minutes” and smiled.

so i took a shower. when i returned she said

“i sleep now.”

when amber’s tired she has trouble conjugating.

but i bombarded her with kisses and due to the fact i have very stinky breath and spikey stubble she miraculously arose.

she said, “take me to Dodger Stadium” but unfortunately the game had ended by the time we arrived and the fireworks, for what i could tell were over.

but alas the rest of the city was just warming up. so i remembered a party i went to once on the most east end of Echo Park. our friend Michelle L. used to live there. it was on an incline and there was a park at the top of it.

when i approached it we could see 2-3 pretty well curated street firework situations happening so we parked on Sunset and walked up.

Mexican families, then black families, then white hipsters as we walked up the hill. everyone letting kids play with sticks of dynamite.

one lady kept holding her bottle rockets dangerously close to the giant pine tree and we decided to Kate Bush it and ran up the hill.

there we saw an abandoned lot with a poorly constructed fence. we slid through it and there, alas, all of LA opened up to us and from Downtown to the Hollywood Bowl fireworks bloomed from the horizon.

i tried to take pics but it was like trying to draw Mohammad: a dangerous waste of time.

we drove home with rockets still exploding all around us.

i decided not to make a quick buck Ubering because blasts + drunk drivers + drunk passengers does not equal a good time. instead we turned on the Sopranos and slowly feel asleep to the sounds of what the cats probably thought was the end of humanity.

fascination street

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she said wanna

i said yeah

she said no do you really wanna

i said is there a hot tub

she said and a pool

i was all do i have to drive

she said ill drive

stopped off at a book store to pee

the thing i like about santa barbara is it’s seen it all

so it’s chill

theres pretty much nothing you can do to impress santa barbara

except be cool

and pick up your litter

this place is

still

magic