it rains a few times a year here. it’s raining now.

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and inside im watching AC/DCs Let There Be Rock

thanks obama

Dear Elizabeth Lauten

I get you’re in those awful 40something years, you look at your life so far and you think, “wow i’ve sold out for most of my life helping the rich get richer and the poor poorer and the best i can say for myself is I’m the communications director for Rep. Stephen Fincher (R-TN).”

I understand your frustration of having to try to think of ANYTHING you can to get people to believe that this administration is evil despite the economy miraculously turning around (with no help from Congress), Obamacare being beneficial to millions (and not the end of the world as the GOP promised), the real estate market bouncing back, and even gas prices shrinking.

So you went to the third rail: you went after the president’s teenage daughters.

For looking at each other as their dad pardoned a turkey.

And wearing skirts.

I get it that when you see other young women you get jealous because you’re no longer young and full of promise.

But must you attack their mother as well?

The First Lady’s whole agenda is to attract attention to living a more healthy lifestyle. Somehow that doesn’t fit into your worldview as respecting her position or being a “good role model”?

I wonder how many of your boss’s opponents’ children you communicate such hate toward.

Or is it only towards the black ones?

Try to be a better human being in the second half of your life.

Step one: write about policy, facts, and the actual politicians the people voted for.

I’m sure your momma raised you better than this.

black friday ucla

i had two goals yesterday: stay away from the Grove and try to get a good ride out of the UCLA game at the Rose Bowl.

the morning was slow and i was downtown and a super cute girl jumped in and said, the Grove, and if you can, make it fast.

turned out she works at Nordstrom and was running a little late for work.

just goes to show you that theres no way to avoid any part of town from DTLA to Santa Monica. maybe groups stay in certain LA zones, but individuals will bop you around.

the mile radius around the city’s most popular shopping mall was packed, as expected, and so after i dropped her off i turned off my phone because the last thing i wanted was to haul a dozen of some rich lady’s Christmas gifts three blocks to her condo.

but then i thought, screw it, why not. dont be a prick. so i turned it on and drove east back to downtown and got a beep from this health food grocery store restaurant back over at the grove area.

i looked at it and said, oh hell no. thats all i need some kale eating mfers in here spilling their protein shakes.

but i took the deal, turned around and picked up two italian models and a german photographer.

the girls needed to go to west hollywood, the photog wanted to go to santa monica. he asked if that was ok.

i said, how about i stay in west hollywood with the bellas, and you take the car to the beach?

we became fast friends. the photog is 25, travels the world, has a place in NYC, spends time in hawaii, brazil. tells me that 1 in 10 models wink wink nudge nudge.

but he does it for the beautiful pictures.

i now have an idol.

i asked him how long he needs with a model to get 5-6 good shots. he says 20 minutes, but that freaks the girls out, so he usually spends about an hour.

took some girls to the century city mall and suddenly i wasnt so happy any more

on thanksgiving i took an uber to dinner and talked with the driver who said the $4 trips is what kills him, and i said me too.

it’s because you spend time getting there, you wait, they finally get in and you drive them a mile and the fare is $4 but you only get $2.40 out of it.

if you get two of those in a row you’re basically making $5-6 an hour. it can depress you.

so i risked it and drove to LAX to see if i could hover around some of the hotels and see if someone wanted a ride to the grove.

if all signs were pointing to malls, maybe the poor saps who got LAX hotels wanted to do some shopping.

lord knows theres no where to shop around LAX.

so i did a few circles around the joint and got nothing. so i figured ok, it’s noon-ish, let’s drive through the hood and see if some stories come my way. sure some guy got shanked in his uber in south central last week, but this is the day time!

so i drove east down manchester and got to hollywood park when i got a beep near the 405.

i remember there was a motel six there and a best western and feared they just wanted me to drive them to the airport because there probably isnt a motel 6 shuttle.

got there and it was three teenage looking international students

the guy who sat next to me was from mexico city, the girl was from tokyo and her touchy feely maybe boyfriend was from columbia

we want to go downtown to go shopping.

i said, thats a perfect idea.

as we drove i asked them if they’d ever been in Little Tokyo. i told them about Mr. Ramen, the pho shop that plays reggae.

they told me they all met in santa barabara at a language school and did not know the word reggae.

i said, you clearly didnt live in Isla Vista.

boy did they laugh.

i said my car will alert me when Bob Marley comes on the radio and i will play it for you then.

within minutes One Love came on and i said voila, mi amigos.

cutest kids ever. they all had to go back to their countries in a week or two and were sad about it and i said dont worry, obama will let you come back.

got to the rose bowl and sometimes i wonder why i try my luck over there. the cops shut down the roads into the stadium

and the people seem to think that they can just summon an uber from anywhere.

but what was worse was, once i did sneak into the DMZ by following a rich local in a Benz, and after finding the family of 3, they just wanted a ride to a local hotel where they parked their car. $5.

no worries, theres plenty of people around, surely one of them wants to go back to Westwood. ding. same hotel, turn around, this lady wants to go to neighboring eagle rock. has no idea there was even a game. what? $9.

turn back around, head back to pasadena for one more ride. third times a charm i tell myself.

and sure as silk, it’s three chinese girls, heavy accents, ucla shirts, take us to the century city mall.

i say, how do i say i love you in chinese.

they laugh and laugh. we have the best conversations about china and pollution and buddhism.

the quietest one tells me she visited santa barbara once. i said, did you go to Isla Vista?

she said, yes. i said, ok, how many boys did you kiss?

and they giggled and she did not answer.

i said omg so guilty. but it’s ok, love is beautiful. i hope they teach you that at ucla.

i’m thankful for you

because we live in a Fox News world where we are convinced the world is going to hell because we have a half-black president, it’s easy to forget how much progress is happening right now.

groups all around the world are doing historic things to make life better for everyone.

people Are trying.

the fact that same-sex marriages swept through this country faster than those with hidden agendas could stop it was beautiful.

last night i picked up a 22-year-old Saudi gentleman. he asked me what i thought of his country. i said, your country reminds me of mine: we mix religion and politics too much. whenever the two are separate things are so much better.

im the biggest Christian you probably know. when some people get drunk and run around saying they love everyone, i say things like i need to build a church.

and still i think life is better when the government has nothing to do with religion. especially one particular religion.

why are government buildings closed on sundays? wouldnt that actually be the best time for them to be opened? if i ever had kids, id love for them to get bible study as much as possible: but not in the public schools. wtf. what about the kids who aren’t into the bible? f them?

im grateful of people who fight for the whole. im thankful for people who use their creativity to express love. any sucker mc can bring fear.

even my kittens are afraid of shadows.

im so thankful for you, the light.

figured out what the movie im writing is

every week on hbo there will be four 15 minute uber tales shown

every week it will be four different actors

every week it will be directed by a different director

some of the segments will be traditional television: guy picks up a passenger, they hit it off, theres laughs and then they drop them off.

but some of the segments will be

art

what does the uber guy do during a break

why did he take a break

why does he stop his break

or

a 15 minute drive where no one talks

or

robert de niro is the uber driver

two girls get in the back

all they do is talk to each other

de niro doesnt talk

but we do see his facial expressions now and then

as he listens to their stories

the beauty with this format is you never know who they will pick up

and you never know who’s gonna drive.

as the weeks go on, some of the same drivers are featured

will de niro say anything this week?

hey arent those the same chatty girls as two weeks ago?

but this time mike tyson is the driver

or al gore

or pee wee herman

maybe pee wee is the driver and some old lady wants to talk about mike brown.

or some saudi guy wants to talk about how he just smoked weed yesterday for the first time.

or prince wants to play a 15 minute guitar solo

because he has a battery operated amp he just bought

and wants to know how good it sounds in a car

maybe some great actress wants to show how great she is

and delivers a 10 minute soliloquy

and when we finally see the driver

it’s stephen hawking

or hologram tupac

or borat

who just says

very niiiice

and then they run into a bus.

i think thats what the show is.

current events: Mike Brown’s killer won’t be tried

one thing ive noticed when i occasionally go back in the archives is i have strayed away from talking about current events on the busblog.

in the spirit of Nothing In Here Is True and the fact that my gigs at LAist, LAT, and KPCC made me think exclusively about current events, I stopped writing about them in here.

my current gigs however dont care about breaking news, so here we are back again talking about what CNN tried to talk about last night

racism and how an unarmed black kid was shot to death in the streets of Missouri and how the prosecutor didn’t want to prosecute the cop so he put on a lousy case for the grand jury of mostly white ppl and the grand jury said yeah lets not make this cop stand trial.

what do i think of all of this?

i think we rely way too much on guns in the USA and there will be a day when blacks will get tired of being shot by white cops and they’ll start carrying guns too.

like lots of guns.

and then we will have huge problems.

because sure it’s not cool to shoot a cop, but what if he’s shooting at you and you don’t feel like he should?

and what if he is shooting at you in a way that could kill you?

dont we have the right to bear arms to protect ourselves?

can you see where this is escalating towards?

how about we try to do this without guns and the professional lawmen call in backup when a teenage boy wont cooperate.

and how about we dont shoot to kill them. how about we use teamwork and skill and technique instead of bang bang bang bang bang

bang.

we have enough dead people in this beautiful country.

how about a few of us alive people figure out what is working and whats not working, and im sorry but this grand jury of one isnt convinced that guns are working out.

you had one job

foot

punk metal band turns into mariachi combo

mariachi el bronx represented today on KCRW

viva!

saw mockingjay last night

it was fine. nothing amazing. a placeholder but a perfectly fine placeholder.

the biggest applause at the end was when they put Phillip Seymore Hoffman’s name on the screen at the beginning of the credits.

i must say, it is nice to hop in a car, drive a half hour and see a brand new movie, free, in one of the best movie theaters in the world. perfect sound and picture. nobodys talking. it wasnt even as packed as i thought it would be. maybe because there was no panel afterwards. who knows.

this is gonna be a short work week. i plan to drive though. not sure if i wanna drive on wednesday. the paper says its going to be super crazy terrible traffic like omg.

might go see dumb and dumber to on wednesday if thats the case. imagine you get a ride to the airport and the guy is late and the traffic is terrible and then you have to deal with LAX.

theyd have to give me triple pay to do that.

and be super nice.

last night i watched playboy after dark. whoops i mean the american music awards.

dont get me wrong, im a red blooded straight american man.

sexy or slutty, which was it? guess it all depends on who you ask. to me it made me a little happy because the women were very pretty and i enjoyed the songs.

but it made me a lot sad because pop music is usually horrible, but occassionally you can see some hope there. like everythings gonna be ok.

lorde was good.

but can she save rock n roll?

ended up in the most exclusive neighborhood in So Cal

tooling around hollywood, minding my own business, i got a request from a guy who it turned out is a movie producer with some DUIs who wanted me to drive him all the way to the most northwest part of the valley: the star studded Calabasas.

he was attending a party of an long-time chum, a gentleman who is basically running the most impressive production company in movies. to get there we went through a lot of traffic, picked up a half dozen bags of ice for the party, and had to go through some pretty serious security gates before we slowly climbed the hill to the guy’s mansion.

because there were so many bags of ice, the passenger asked me if i could bring in three bags with him.

here is where i should tell you the only recurring dream nightmare ive ever had. one thats haunted me since i was a little kid. i dream that im in someone’s house who i dont know, uninvited. and i can’t get out.

we walk into the house, theres people everywhere, we go through two living rooms, and then the huge kitchen. the homeowner is cutting some meat, people surrounding him, helping, but our bags of ice are now freezing our arms, so we are let out into the back yard, which is also huge, tables, table settings, ah an outdoor bar, also huge, and behind it a huge ice chest, which we fill.

as i walk to exit, my passenger disappears among his friends and i realize im not only in a house where no one knows me, but in the backyard and i have to go back through that huge, home, wearing a hawaiian shirt and cubs hat, by myself, obviously guilty of something

and all my nightmares gave me such a flashback. it was cool and creepy at the same time.

got in the car, saw the whole trip was only $45. for an hour drive? didnt see right. i paid more than that in a cab from LAX to Hollywood. whatever. at least i saw the same block Bieber and the Kardashians lived in.

asked Siri where the local Jack in the Box was, and while i was heading there, got beeped by a rich persian mom and her daughter who wanted to go to Brentwood. thanks, Obama.

they thought they could bury us, they didnt know we are seeds

eons ago i sold tvs and stereos on commission. i loved getting paid commission only because the smarter i got, the more money i made.

im still not sure if uber, which is also commission only, is pure luck or a tiny bit smarts, but last night i was busy doing relatively long trips all night.

sad thing: i barely made my quota despite working a full shift. and getting tipped: twice.

first tip was from a canadian man here on business going from staples center to Boa near beverly hills. he said he was from winnepeg. i said, now thats in manitoba, right? he was shocked at my knowledge. it was his first uber ride. we talked hockey and hoops and listened to latin jazz. the ride took nearly a half hour, i drove on side streets and at the end he said “may i ask how much it cost?” i said give the phone one sec, ah yes here it is and it flashed $18. he smiled, amazed, and dug into his pocket for two crisp dollar bills. hmmmm. whatevs.

then i took a lady from beverly hills to the airport. she was taking a red eye to visit her husband who was on a movie shoot. she told me a tale of Nicki Minaj being quite a diva and i was all omg i never knew it was that bad. BUT IT WAS BAD.

the best trip i took was i was at the airport again after a different person was going to the bahamas. i stopped off at the mcdonalds to relieve myself and get a $1 coke. as i was pulling out i got a beep. he dropped the pin in the wrong place (a scary hidden hood near the airport) so i called him and he said he was at Thrifty car rentals. turned out it was a rich old jewish doctor. he and his wife had just returned from hawaii and figured out the sneaky way to get an uber: take the free shuttle out of LAX to the rental car place and call and uber from there (we are blocked from LAX proper).

we drove down the 405 listening to the 50s station and he sang along with every tune. at Getty Center we were at a stand still at midnight and we all cursed the 405. the wife asked me to just take sepulveda. i did for a mile and got back on and it was smooth sailing to the valley. they lived super close to where Ali’s dad lives. great house, sweetest people.

they tipped me $10. now thats how you do it!

off to drive bruins and trojans to the rose bowl.

went to the doc for a while

he said he had some bad news.

he said i need to quit the xbi.

i told him i wasnt in the xbi.

he said i couldnt even work part time for them, not even for little quickies.

i said the xbi doesnt even exist.

he said seriously you need to relax.

he said if you are in need of money and thats why you work for them now and then, you need to do something else, like write books, screenplays,

anything that wont raise your heart rate.

i said i feel like im the coolest cucumber in the shopping cart.

he said these tests say otherwise.

ive been in a daze ever since.

mike nichols died today

he made some pretty damn good movies.

id watch some if i wasnt so busy.

last night we celebrated ali’s birthday at kanpai

the night before i attended the 20th anniversary screening of The Shawshank Redemption and took pictures of morgan freeman and tim robbins and mel brooks and carl reiner among others

ive been falling asleep on the couch watching tv and holding the kittens.

their sleeping behavior is contagious.

which is probably why we dont let them ride in cars with us.

my mom doesnt like rihanna

which will make things uncomfortable when i marry her

ten years ago today the pistons and the pacers had their brawl

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and then Ron Artest got a beer and bottle thrown at him and beat up a fan.

classic.

The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014)

“You see, there are still faint glimmers of civilization left in this barbaric slaughterhouse that was once known as humanity. Indeed that’s what we provide in our own modest, humble, insignificant… Oh, fuck it.”

sometimes the well is dry

sometimes the place where all the good stuff is fermenting is empty

the moths are dead at the bottom

the gnats are long gone

even the dust has found a better place to settle.

sometimes you look back in your online web log to see what you were doing 10, 11, 12 years ago and of course you were raising your fist at authority, screaming at the shadows, banging at the door

dancing in the tournefortia.

oh to be young and beautiful again. oh to have the adoration of thousands.

bring be back to the days before facebook and twitter and paypal and instagram.

back when blogs roamed the earth and ideas flowed as freely as love.

remember when nba cheerleaders and their sisters would camp out waiting for their favorite blogger to get home from the busstop?

remember how the southern girls would type letters in their bathtubs, ink smearing, misspelled words typed over with hashtags

letters sealed with lipstick and drawings, phone calls with drawlings.

thats where the well is.

gurgling well well well

whispering al gore

is dead

coughing up dust

ask the dust

it’ll tell u

ask it

really good weekend, super fun ubering, and then resting

but probably the best thing that happened this weekend was getting to visit Jeanine.

she is holed up in a secret xbi training center to work on her exhaustion.

as you know the agency loves to poison us. sometimes they over do it.

the way i combat it is to eat a ton of junk food. the preservatives and chemicals counteract the weirdness that they subversively give us and it all balances out.

poor jeanine though eats well, and when the xbi did what they did to her, over years and years, it eventually wore her out.

a month ago she was taken away and only recently was she able to receive guests and i am very glad to announce that she is doing so well, theres so much more life back in her eyes and heart and spirit. it was an absolute joy to spend an hour with her.

funny thing about her, you can always tell how she is doing from her hair.

saturday her hair was silky smooth and happy and bright and sparkling.

she wanted to tell me all the stories about the other agents she is rehabbing with but i was all, there is no such thing as the xbi

and for sure there is no such thing as agents who arent at 100%.

she was all omg, but these people are sooooo fascinating!

i was like, just tell me about you, what have you learned, what did you go through, how did you like the books i snuck in?

so we talked and talked and someone recognized me and i said hi and they said you know if you wanted to drive jeanine around for a few minutes i’ll look the other way

and quickly we hopped into my car and i said so what do you want to eat?

she said, something healthy

i said you can have anything in the world and you want an apple? how about some taco bell or jack in the box or a burrito from a truck. and she smiled and said, thats your technique, i like healthy good things. in fact im thinking about being a cook here, full time, like forever.

it was so sweet. your girl is totally back. in such a short period of time. it was so good. sooooo good. so thank you for your good thoughts. they worked!

of course sad things happen to me, but

there was a time when i would write sad things and for a little while i was the sad poetry world champion writer of all time.

for some reason i thought it was cathartic. or Real. or true.

inspired by Springsteens “The River” album and song, it was my belief that a real writer expressed his emotions, all of his emotions right out there on the page and blah blah blah.

but what happened was the darker i wrote the sadder i got and it was a very slipper slope. which is one reason i try not to get too morose on the busblog or negative or angry.

because really what am i saying when i do that: wahhhh i’m not getting all the things i want in life. waaahhhh i deserve better.

the truth is im the luckiest bald man in hollywood. i have miraculously good health, i look 10 years younger than i am. i am surrounded with great friends. and i have two fun jobs that i love love love. any little bump in the road is just that: little. move on, whiner.

yesterday my maid came after 2-3 months of not being here. for a while i had jeanine on my couch and she would clean but it wasnt like maid-clean. then jeanine left and amber broke up with me and i was all f this apartment. let the mess grow!

which the kittens loved because kittens are basically rats with cuter fur. so they would roll in the ripped open newspaper bags and explore through the mountains of paper bags and hide beneath piles of dirty clothes. and play soccer with dust devils.

all of that came to an end yesterday after i paid my maid double to unbury me from my crud.

and it feels glorious.

and i have almost forgotten the uber ride i made yesterday where i drove 10 minutes to wait 10 minutes to pick up a wealthy man who appeared to be an athlete, so i could drive him THREE BLOCKS so he could get a subway sandwich which he asked me to WAIT for him to get so i could drive him back three blocks to his luxury beverly hills apartment. the total trip on the clock was 15 minutes. but in reality it was 25 minutes of which i made, net, $5.

pretty sure Uber doesnt read the busblog, which is a shame because i am amazing and my tips are priceless but heres two suggestions for the multi billion dollar company who would prefer that their drivers dont lose their minds and go apeshit on passengers who request such soul sucking trips.

if a ride is during “surge” as this one was, and it amounts to less than a $10 far, as this one did, Uber should give their commission to the driver as a courtesy including the $1 “safe rider fee”. that way drivers don’t verbally abuse the passenger for being a lazy bastard (which i didnt, but my ESP sure did) and so they don’t quit this unprofitable gig after more and more $6 and $7 rides that account for an increasingly larger portion of our nights and days.

fortunately i got a longer ride later in the night of three european gents who wanted to talk soccer and baseball the whole time which i reluctantly did, but of course when they asked me why the States isnt into soccer, i replied “big ball, huge net, yawn.”

install a tip button into the app, Uber.

i miss telephone booths

a lot

is the Internet screwed? no. just the American Internet

all over the world, the web is fine, because in most parts of the world big business isn’t treated like Royalty.

here in the home of the brave, there’s a political party that pretends that if giant conglomerates aren’t allowed to

do whatever they damn well please

then all the jobs will disappear.

we quickly forget that all of these businesses began as start-ups that filled a hole in the market.

Apple didn’t need any special treatment when it was competing against IBM, Microsoft, Xerox and countless other giants.

Apple, omg, invented shit, stuck to their principles of innovation, and for decades struggled before they broke out.

Now they’re bigger than big, mightier than anyone, and the hottest store in every mall lucky enough to have them.

Time Warner, Comcast, AT&T and all these other Internet providers and cable companies lie right to our faces

and tell us that if they are not allowed to slow down web speeds to smaller companies like Netflix and programs like BitTorrent

then their businesses will falter and omg jobs jobs jobs and profits will magically evaporate.

now there are a lot of things i like about our president. he turned around the economy

millions of people now have healthcare. the stock market is breaking records every day.

and he seems to give a shit about the environment.

but when he fucks up he does so in such a huge way it’s like he made some weird deal with the GOP

“i’ll throw you a bone, no matter what it is, a few times a year.”

even though all they do is try to cockblock him Every. Chance. They. Can.

for some hairbrained reason Obama named the BFF of the cable industry as the head of the FCC.

Some douche named Wheeler.

Wheeler is not going to have some amazing revelation in the near future.

He’s not going to tell all of his country club brethren that they’re going to have to stop throttling the web.

He’s going to lie and say he wants to listen to both sides.

And then he’s going to do exactly what we know he’s going to do.

Why? Because he is a Scorpion and we are Frogs.

He can’t help it.

He and all of his friends are addicted to money.

And the people who keep voting for this nonsense are addicted to fear and ignorance.

But I’m not angry. And do you know why?

Because you cannot stop American ingenuity, particularly when porn is involved.

The web will be fast one day because teenage boys, the keys to digital technology, won’t stand for slow connections

to see boobs.

bless their hearts.

The New York Times reviews “Male and Female” nearly 100 years ago

Of course, if any one is profoundly impressed by the solemn assurance that the best looking, most competent man and the prettiest girl of a party shipwrecked on an island will, in two years, gravitate toward each other, regardless of the fact that in England one was a butler and the other a “lady,” for that one “Male and Female” is apocalyptic. But the same person should ponder deeply over the revelation that two and two make four.

- NY Times, November 24, 1919

first things first im the fakest

thirty years ago today madonnas like a virgin came out.

somehow i had a giant poster of it on my bedroom wall.

somehow i was invited to live in the house the wall belonged to.

i was going to junior college at the time and working at a record store for $4 an hour.

and somehow i was asked to move out of the home so that the teenage swedish nanny could take possession of the room

and i could fuck off and find my first apartment – even though i was only making $4 an hour and going to college

had i done anything wrong to incur such a drastic change? no. was i doing drugs or drinking or raising hell or having drunken friends over to all hours of the night? of course not. i was new to california, and LA, and i barely knew anybody.

it was not really the sort of thing one expects from the person one is named after and his new wife to do to a teenager, but as they say shit happens

and it all happened as madonna looked down at me from the wall

thirty years ago.

the good book says we are supposed to forgive. i forgave.

the lord says we’re supposed to turn the other cheek. which i did. and there could be worse things than being forced to move to a cockroach and flea infested apartment a few blocks from the ocean in venice beach in the mid 80s.

but then more crappy things happened and the forgivenesses ran out.

and i started to learn that some people are just selfish and they cause more stress to my heart than i want.

life is short.

we will make it through the wilderness.

somehow we will make it through.

but theres no reason to keep going back just because we’re too cowardly to see if we can go it alone.

first things first, we are never alone.

not with Jesus

and madonna.

hot babe in santa monica gets in and says how do you feel about taking me to redondo

i was all, long hair, dont care, plus you smell like you robbed a perfume store.

buckle up.

zig zagged through stragglers, honked at the stoned, rolled down the windows

and felt it all.

whats your day job she asked with an accent i couldnt immediately place.

alaskan? new hampshire?

finnish?

i work for an undercover super hero agency that steals from the thieves

and gives to the poor.

oh, the xbi she said and i adjusted my rear view.

she said, it’s on your license plate.

oh yeah that.

why would you give everything to the poor she asked, applying lip gloss and checking her work in a tiny mirror she snapped closed when she was satisfied

because no one else is gonna do it i said and turned onto the 10 east.

she looked out her window and yawned, every vacuum must be filled.

is there a vacuum in your life i asked her, and turned down the pink floyd.

yeah, im starving

beep beep bop she excused herself and called her boyfriend.

hey im in an uber, i will be home in about 30 minutes, should i pick up something?

i esped her but it wasnt working. she wasnt xbi.

chinese? how about something healthy for a change? no that place closed. i dont know why. they were terrible?

for some reason no one was in the carpool lane of the 405 so i sped.

they decided he would order something and it would be ready when she arrived. good boy, i thought.

i looked back in the rearview.

she saw me looking.

smiled.

what are you gonna do when you grow up? she asked.

i was thinking about doing red carpet interviews for VH-1

she stopped chewing the gum she was chomping.

how did you know thats what i do? she asked.

everyone knows what you do

i told her.

and turned up the radio.

cuz fuck growing up.

working six days a week has its benefits: riches, bitches, grillz

but somewhere along the way you get tired. especially once you realize that money is a phony game of pretend

and even the good book said beware beware beware.

its easier for a camel to get through the eye of the needle than for a rich man to get into the gates of heaven is one of our best clues from Jesus himself that the almighty dollar isn’t what the almighty is about.

even though that metaphor, like Hole, is pretty on the inside, what they were talking about was this narrow mountain pass in Israel a long long time ago.

if you and your camel were traveling light, you could make it through the pass no probs

but if you were an old school hoarder and you had gold in a sack over here and silver in a sack over there and all of it hanging off your camel, it would have a mighty rough time squeezing through the treacherous narrow paths, and especially the tiny passageway known back then as

The Eye of the Needle

the good book is trying to tell us that frankincense, myrrh, rolexes, beamers, and all of our Stuff is not only not necessary in Paradise

but it’s more of a burden to us here on Earth than we think.

when Jesus asks whose face he sees on a coin, the dude says oh thats Julius Caesar.

to which Jesus tosses the coin to the bro and says “give to Caesar what’s Caesar’s”

as if to say, LOL kid stuff.

what Jesus is about is what we should all be about: soul.

soul has no price. a rich man can’t buy it at Kitson’s and take it home and show all of his rich asshole friends.

soul comes from something priceless and is nurtured with each step we take, each decision we make, each action, every word, and if you’re playing the advanced portion of the game: every single thought.

fakers laughed at Jimmy Carter when he admitted to Playboy that he sins with his heart, but the xpresident is more than just a bible reader, he’s an expert on soul.

and love.

and peace.

and doing unto his neighbor the way he’d a wanted his neighbor to do unto his ass.

so it’s ok to work hard, and long, and for a good purpose, just remember that any asswipe can collect cash.

the real trick is ignoring the sparkly flashy distractions that weigh us down from getting out of the desert.

was in the Vons parking lot at 8pm across from the Vista

i craned my neck to see if dumbass Gone Girl was still playing there and i saw it was Intersteller

i was all, say whaaaa? for it was Thursday and I didn’t think it was coming out till Friday.

still in my car i checked the listings in Fandango and sure enough it was playing the Vista and in 45 mins it was gonna screen.

also it warned me that the running time was an epic 2 hours and 45 minutes.

so i went into the store and bought four huge deals of kitty litter, some banannas, a couple of avocados

and one of those sushi meals in a plastic box.

while waiting in the checkout line i also grabbed three 20 ounce bottle of Coke.

got home, pet the cats, made sure they had food and water. changed into a Tsar tshirt and sweat pants

and walked to the movies.

all of that was far more exciting, believable, and interesting than the movie.

Christopher Nolan may be a genius and there were elements of this film that were creative

and i will give him points for being so G-D ambitious in a time where everyone plays it safe safe safe.

but it was a ghost story wrapped in space epic constantly being haunted by those who did it much better

namely mr stanley kubrick and his 1968 masterpiece 2001.

in fact the best thing i can think to say about interstellar is it reminds us all how superbly fantastic 2001 was.

and still is.

because if 46 years later, one of the absolute top directors in the world

can’t even shine your shoes

then you have made something beautiful that deserves all the praise forever and ever amen.

and nolan needs to get a few friends who will say, no, bro, this aint happening.

would you stay if she promised you heaven

will you ever win?

OMG WHY ?!?!?!1!1

today is alie wards birthday, shes 24

how is alie ward not the biggest star in the world?

she can dance, she can sing, shes the funniest person in the room.

she looks great in a cocktail dress, even with her wooden leg.

she can mix a damn drink. she will drink the damn drink. shes sharp as a tack.

and shes a super hard worker. which youd never know because she makes it look so easy.

many moons ago we worked together and whenever i passed her cube (when she was upstairs at metromix) or her desk (when she was downstairs with brand x) she was working working working

but she always had time to tell me how nice my khakis looked or ask “how did you get those shoes to shine so bright!?!”

shes on the tv with her bff georgia all the time. they do very funny podcasts. they volunteer at the the burn center. they rescue cats. alie even has a thing about bugs.

bugs!

because life is bizarre for some reason she isn’t on morning radio every day or a late night talk show each night.

why is scarlet johannson the black widow in the avengers?

why isn’t alie there concocting weird ass drinks to trick the evil monsters into doing shots with, and then puking rainbows all over the metropolis?

why hasnt obama hired her to get the kids out to vote? why hasnt the mayor hired her to rank all the taco trucks during his Taco Trucks Must Be Ranked initiative?

and why hasnt playboy let her guest edit an issue.

JUST ONE ISSUE, HEF!

maybe because too much awesome is like staring at the sun while on shrooms after being on acid.

poolside.

on alie wards birthday.

on the moon.

happy birthday hottest redhead with a wooden leg.

the morning after

halloween is the greatest of all.

i drove from 6pm to 3am last night, in the sprinkles and then rain and then wind.

some places were slightly flooding but only in a cute way like the streets saying

what can we be for halloween, oh how about a sweet little puddle

oh look at that one, its a huge puddle.

the demand for ubers was so crazed that i was getting requests from 20 minutes away

even though the rate was five times the base fare.

someone paid me $100 to go from culver city to los feliz.

happily.

the skinny girl in the back dressed as a teenage runaway kissed me on the cheek.

another dude from saudi arabi wanted to go “to the light house”

the light house?

“the coachhouse.”

say what?

“one minute.” and he called his friend. we were waiting in the drive through of his luxury high rise in westwood.

the playhouse?

ah yes, hollywood blvd., my home.

he’d only been here two months. so i asked him if he still dated persian girls

or was he seeing what the rest of the world had to offer.

he didnt understand.

i said, you know, have you met any japanese girls or canadians. italians?

he said oh yes im dating a brazilian girl.

i was all, my man!

and i turned on some gangsta rap and we drove over the 405 on halloween night

then east on the 101

and he said, can you increase the volume.

and i went, increased, bad boy.

fine, i’ll have kids

but only for Halloween

bree was all, what should i be? i said, how about Nikki Sixx from the Crüe?

she was all, omg thats a perfect idea.

a few hours later she said well i have everything down perfect except for the wig

i said show me what youve got.

a few hours later she sent me this and i was all, omg you nailed it.

which brings me to reason number 2347895347890 i wish babes would stop having sex with EDM djs: no one is gonna dress up like Flying Lotus in 20 years

or Swedish House Mafia

or Skrillex.

Maybe that dude with the mickey mouse ears but only if he was looking to get beat up.

rock n roll, especially hair metal, has it all: the guitar solos, the crazy outfits, and the hair so killer you cant even get a wig that matches it.

do i play EDM in my Uber?

who asked you!??!?!

last night the cats and i watched Lone Survivor.

as Marky Mark’s comrades kept getting shot i turned to the cats and said

i guess he’s gonna be the Lone Survivor.

then a big boulder rolled down the hill smashing a whole bunch of them and i was all

Lone Survivor

then when things were getting super hairy i was all, Marky Mark can’t die because the film is called Lone

SURVIVOR

when i looked down they were alseep

so unimpressed with me or the film.

the one thing they will love about Halloween will be the candy corn.

they wont eat them, they will kick them around like soccer balls.

i dont get too caught up in politics

it’s all rich people anyways pandering to big business and the rich.

dudes trying to figure out how they can stop people from voting or make it so people who do vote have their votes diminished.

and once they get into office how they can stop the majority from doing the things they were elected to do.

if politics was city planning theyd all plan on figuring out new ways to cause traffic jams.

instead of working on ways to get people home faster, safer, and smarter.

theres all these poor people politicians dont seem to care about, and sick people, and dumb people.

theres all these opportunities for america to take advantage of all the advantages we have

but does washington dc ever actually do any of that?

the only thing they can agree on is find new ways to blow shit up and be the police of the world.

and grow more corn.

and make the 1% richer.

so when people say politicians dont do anything, that’s not entirely true.

and when they meet their maker on judgement day:

duck.

it was so nice of Die Antwoord to write a song for me

[embedded content]

anything you want

you got it

we’re not here to change for someone else

if she wants an ape she’s gonna find her perfect ape boy.

if he wants a coffee sipping subway rider, he’s gonna find what he’s looking for.

if you stay in your condo all day and drink wine and read the newspapers and never discover that you have actual wings that actually take you places you will never

actually live.

we are here to actually live

actual lives.

lives that span more than just one trip around the sun, hun.

this belief that things are supposed to be like how they were in the Bronte’s time is stuff white ppl like. but white ppl get divorced like all the damn time so either they also like divorce or they realize we dont die at 40 which means why get married at 28.

we die when we sell out and make the baby Jesus cry.

i want to be constantly changing, constantly growing, constantly meeting new people of all walks. of all runs. of all flights.

you have to break a lot of eggs to make a chocolate cake but after brunch comes lunch and then linner

bitch aint had linner in forlever.

then supper then dessert then after drinnker drinks somewhere you aint never been before

long drives through the woods on a school night

quick flights to whereever cuz we’re young and beautiful and the world is ours.

a row boat ride to the other side.

the lord gave us two legs and one heart that beats for someone

and if she wants to have it beat for someone she can beat down

then im not down.

bill belicheck gets dissed by the Weather Channel: repeatedly

[embedded content]

bill belicheck is a surly mean cheater. but hes a football coach so thats ok.

and his team, before his quarterback married that brazillian supermodel, won a lot.

so his bad behavior was excused.

winning has a weird effect like that.

but yesterday for some reason he wanted to take a shot at meteorologists.

as if dick butkis cared what the damn weather was. or lombardi. or sweetness.

you line up and bash the guy across from you in the fucking mouth.

the weather didnt bother belicheck on that snowy day when the NFL gave his team the win over the Raiders in the playoffs on account of the mysterious Tuck Rule

only old people and whiners drone on about the weather.

but when you do it on tv, and youre a prick which rhymes with Belechick the weatherman will strike back.

beautifully

sophia loren wont autograph this picture but she’ll talk about it

Entertainment Weekly has the scoop on one of the most classic photos from classic Hollywood: the time Sophia Loren was introduced to Jayne Mansfield.

EW: This photo was taken when you were still very new to Hollywood.

SOPHIA LOREN: Yes, Paramount had organized a party for me. All of cinema was there, it was incredible. And then comes in Jayne Mansfield, the last one to come. For me, that was when it got amazing.

EW: What did she do when she got there?

SL: She came right for my table. She knew everyone was watching. She sat down. And now, she was barely… Listen. Look at the picture. Where are my eyes? I’m staring at her nipples because I am afraid they are about to come onto my plate. In my face you can see the fear. I’m so frightened that everything in her dress is going to blow—BOOM!—and spill all over the table.

Find out why Loren won’t sign this picture over at EW.

only in my mind am i old

my body feels amazing, my spirits are high, but when people ask me how long ive been in LA

and i tell them 30 years they say wait a second

just HOW OLD are you?

had a lady, 88 years old, get into my car. she was going to the Disney Hall.

do you know where that is? she asked.

i said, probably the prettiest building in all of LA.

she said, maybe the world.

i said, well, something tells me that mr. naploean and marie antoinette would argue differently.

she said, well let them eat cake.

and we were off.

she had an old tymie name like Lulabelle or Henrietta or Petunia. a wealthy aunt left her a fortune when she was 50 and was able to send her daughter to Juliard, where she went.

are you sure you know how to get there, dear, she asked as i zig zagged through Westwood on my way to the 10.

it’s the pink building by the beach, i joked. but you shouldnt joke with an old lady.

she asked me about 5 more times as we were going there if i knew the way.

finally i pointed to my phone and i said, even if i didnt know, ma’am, this thing does and shocks me if i go off the path.

she mumbled that technology has ruined everything and complicated our lives and i said you mean you yearn for the days when the tv had three stations and thats it? me too!

but i was lying. i love you technology with my very last proton.

she was so old she couldnt do math any more.

and as we got to downtown she apologized ahead of time before complimenting the president.

she said, im sorry if this offends you, but i think Obama is doing a splendid job.

i said, what sort of world are we living in where a woman can’t feel confident saying something nice about our president?

she said, well what if you were a Republican?

i said even if i was a dirty Commie, the gas prices are low, unemployment is low, the stock market is at a record high, interest rates are low, and a big chunk of the nation now has health insurance. who could have a problem with any of that?

she squeezed my arm with her bony fingers and said yeah you’re right.

what was she calling me, buster? dearie?

sweetheart?

she i dropped her off at the valet, he didnt smile. he asked if i was going to pick her up. as if maybe she had done him wrong some how. or he didnt like her.

wasnt the whole hall senior citizens? why give her the stink eye?

i liked her and i was driving around westwood later that night and i hoped she had gotten home ok because she was lovely.

married a man, when she was 20, that the family didnt approve of because he was not rich, but she did it anyway, she admitted to me, because he was so handsome.

it lasted 30 years she said. which is fine unless you end up back on the market at 50 as a recent divorcee.

but then all the money came her way, so maybe that helped soften the blow.

this weekend was the busiest ive ever encountered as a driver

these people threw around the N-word like it was no big deal

and then the girl behind me asked me for my phone number

but the best was when the girl next to me said she likes to hook up with Uggs

i said who?

she said, ugly guys.

she said they treat her better

these nice people went to a hip hop show in echo park and wanted me to take them to Boyle Heights

i was all, hell yeah, why not, who cares

Duff Man and his girl were sweet. for some reason they parked over by the Hollywood Bowl and asked me to drive them to The Abbey in WeHo

everyone wanted to go to the Abbey in WeHo.

these two are from the LBC though and I was all, mmmmm ok?

one of these guys was into guys and said he showed a guy his schween at the party i picked them up at

and said he was a show-er, not a grow-er

and for once in my life i had no witty comeback

hollywood blvd is my favorite place in the whole world next to wrigley field and las vegas

and it was beautifuler than normal i just wanted to hug everyone.

bree olson, famous movie star, and former charlie sheen goddess was so sweet and pretty

after i dropped her off my mom called and i said ma i picked up a porn star!

my mom asked, you watch porn?

i said, for science.

this lady is a lawyer.

suddenly halloween is my favorite holiday of all.

prince said i want 8 minutes commercial free: to rock

[embedded content]

and he got up there, 109 years old

surrounded by women who could be his granddaughters

and he traded guitar leads and sang and danced and did all new music

like a G

and it was the best thing SNL has seen on its music stage in years.

long live prince forever and ever amen

the morning after

halloween is the greatest of all.

i drove from 6pm to 3am last night, in the sprinkles and then rain and then wind.

some places were slightly flooding but only in a cute way like the streets saying

what can we be for halloween, oh how about a sweet little puddle

oh look at that one, its a huge puddle.

the demand for ubers was so crazed that i was getting requests from 20 minutes away

even though the rate was five times the base fare.

someone paid me $100 to go from culver city to los feliz.

happily.

the skinny girl in the back dressed as a teenage runaway kissed me on the cheek.

another dude from saudi arabi wanted to go “to the light house”

the light house?

“the coachhouse.”

say what?

“one minute.” and he called his friend. we were waiting in the drive through of his luxury high rise in westwood.

the playhouse?

ah yes, hollywood blvd., my home.

he’d only been here two months. so i asked him if he still dated persian girls

or was he seeing what the rest of the world had to offer.

he didnt understand.

i said, you know, have you met any japanese girls or canadians. italians?

he said oh yes im dating a brazilian girl.

i was all, my man!

and i turned on some gangsta rap and we drove over the 405 on halloween night

then east on the 101

and he said, can you increase the volume.

and i went, increased, bad boy.