I am a remiss blogger. I don’t usually post on weekends, and not usually on Mondays, either. But Tuesdays I usually hit the blog at least a little earlier. I’ve almost lost the whole day already. And I had things to tell you, but they’ve dropped out of my mind.
I was going to tell you how much fun we had with Amy and her girl Sandra and Christie and Jason and others whose names have also slipped away. I have photos to prove that we may have had a leetle too much to drink. Okay, *I* might have had a leetle too much, since I started thinking it was a good idea to snap photos down Lala’s shirt. (No! I will NOT post those, thank you very much.) I only just found said camera this morning, as a matter of fact, so I have no photos to show. But trust that we had a ball, even though I was in charge of hooking up the lesbian dance club, and instead we ended up at a reggae night. Er….
Amy leaves this week for a massive trip, which’ll be chronicled at How To Get Lost. Should be good reading, yo.
Also, I was going to tell about what I have seen on my way to work recently on High Street. They include:
- A man with a shopping cart with nothing in it but an empty forty and a teddy bear.
- A naked lady.
- Her peeing boyfriend.
- A taco truck on a trailer.
- A kid on a bike that had a big ole spinner for handlebar (that was COOL).
And then last night, I saw the neatest thing while I was driving to Lala’s, although I fully know I shouldn’t have thought it was neat. But it was. I was getting on Highway 13, and I was behind two hot little cars on the onramp. They irritated the heck out of me by slowing down almost to a stop on the ramp. I figured it was some kind of road rage deal, and wanted to steer clear, literally. When we got on the freeway, they both stayed in the slow lane, never speeding up past forty miles per hour. I considered shooting past them, but I was too a’sceered. I’m a timid driver as it is. So I hung back and followed them some more. There were no other cars around.
We came around a curve, and the back car pulled forward and then flush with the other car, both of them still driving super-slowly, now neck and neck. I thought I’d see the flare of a pistol shot any moment, but instead, they both took off at such a high rate speed that I felt like my car was suddenly going backwards.
It was RAD. They were gone in an instant. That must have been fun. Totally unsafe, yep. No one should do it. Nope. But it was still awesome.
My girl and I have what we like to call ‘LA Moments’. We’ve been mentally cataloging them since we moved to LA a few years ago, which remind me of your funny sights. Ours include a man peeing in a big gulp cup at a bus stop, a BJ on the street outside a club [boy on boy, of course], and a man pooping outside of the supermarket, then proceeding to go inside and shop for groceries. i think I feel another blog coming on… ; )
Sounds like a fun night…’cept maybe the reggae surprise but no doubt you made the best of it. And I am glad you didn’t get in the middle of a drag race. Very sensible dear. 🙂
Yes, one of my dream things to do would be to take a NASCAR around a track as fast as I could, taking into account it would also be scary. I had a similar moment on our little Michigan highway, but I was just plain scared. We have a highway that has an entrance ramp coming from the left onto another highway and that entrance ramp turns into a third lane that goes for quite awhile. Well, I was in the middle lane when about ten crotch rockets came down the entrance ramp, one right after the other, all doing at least 100. They were so noisy, came so quickly and passed not an insignificant amount of traffic that it was really scary and icky. I love motorcycles; I hate crotch rockets and have little respect for the people who drive them so irresponsibly.
Ok, so maybe I’m crazy, but didn’t you post once about seeing Kris Delmhorst and loving her? I remember this because I *heart* her too. Wanted to let you know (if you don’t already) that a group called Redbird is playing at Freight and Salvage on May 1. It’s Kris, Jeff Foucault (who I think is her husband), and Peter Mulvey. They are so freakin’ good together. They basically sit around three mics and sing Americana songs. I saw them in Michigan 2 weeks ago. Not to be missed, if you can help it!
Sometimes I am not too sad about living on the “boring” side of the Bay. Though we get our share of drag races here, I have not seen any naked ladies with peeing boyfriends on my way to work. And I like it that way!
oh, THERE you are….was getting a little worried that you had been too busy to blog 😉
Counting the days until MD sheep and WOLF!
xoxoxoxo