DAY 61: Nebula

What happened? Several years ago I saw Nebula perform in Portland. Fucking awesome! The gong, the guitar, the drums. It made me want to get stoned while cruising back roads in a pick up truck. Tonight at Spaceland is the second time I've seen them in LA. No redemption. They seem small, no longer rock that slaps me in the face they have become a firm handshake with no eye contact. Look me in the eye! Look me in the fucking eye! I blame the new drummer, guitars can't carry it all.

DAY 60: Nice Ride

Bri and I ride from the office to my place and then from my place to the Red Lion where we meet up with a bunch of peeps. French fries and a couple of Warsteiner's later we're off to Glendale/Atwater for a late night ride. The them is "Day of the Dead". Outside of a Mickey Dee's we drink beer and people watch while a giant skeletal head does figure eights in the parking lot. Due to all the bikes and skeletal face paint I keep expecting Danielson to run by. Soon we mount up (side note: whenever I think about riding with a group of people I am reminded of "Young Guns" and how Billie the Kid AKA Emilio Estevez would say, "Regulators mount up!") and begin traveling across the city. Within fifteen minutes I have no fucking clue where I am. It's a bright crispy night and the air feels good in my lungs. A couple hours later and I'm back where we started from. The night ends with breakfast at Astros, breakfast at midnight. breakfast, oh so delicious!

DAY 59: Learning Curve

Trying to learn how to curve my ball in bowling. When I played a week ago I was doing it no problem. Now that I'm trying to do it on wooden lanes it's not happening. The owner and a worker keep stopping by to give me tips.
"It's all in the fingers. Squeeze the fingers" (this is similar to Spider-Man shooting a web)
"Go at a diagonal"
"Lead with the left. Lead with the left."
So much to think about. Plus I have to remember to shake hands.
Gutter. Gutter. Gutter. I bowl a 60. What the fuck? I go to the bar and buy another beer. The bartender is watching Rob Schnyder in "The Hot Girl". She asks me, "When is this going to get funny?" It's subjective. However, in bowling there is measurement. A standard. According to that standard, I suck.

DAY 58: Supa Beard

Holy crap my beard is getting huge! It's monstrous and all consuming. I think it is beginning to give me psychic abilities. Abilities of the mind; esp, pyrokinesis, and telekinesis. I can cloud the thoughts of others. My voice is hypnotic.
"Hi Will! How are you?" asks some random character.
"I'm great! How are you?" I reply.
"Well to be perfctl..........." their eyes drop to my chin. They're out like west hollywood boy. This is my opportunity. I can make them think water is fire, that they're a chicken, or Tom Cruise. This is the power of beard hypnotics. With a great beard comes great responsibility. I snap my fingers and turn my back on them. All conversations are now done over the shoulder.

DAY 57: Stella Crap

When I first hung out with Stella, my dog, I couldn't tell the difference between her taking a crap and a piss (besides by analyzing the remnants). Now I can read her posture. In a fraction of a second I can say piss or poo. When she takes a piss her ass is lower to the ground and she holds her body at a 45 degree angle. When she takes a crap her ass is much higher due to the pile up and her body is at a 90 degree angle. Her front paws shake while her hind legs bounce on the ground below her looking for support. People always glare at me when she takes a piss since I make no movement to check. I say, "It's a piss." Immediately their eyes glimmer as if to say, "How'd you know that? Is it magic?". No, it's not magic, it's body language.

DAY 56: Seeing a show

Three bands at Spaceland; Abe Pagoda, Bi-Polar Bear, and Parts & Labor. I've been letting a Cincinnatian who was stranded in Hollywood sleep on my air-mattress. He came with me to the show and I'm suppose to be meeting Dewey later on. A girl from the UK who just flew in from New Zealand also came. She's staying in a hostel on Hollywood and has been travelling for 3 months. Hearing people talk about traveling sparks jealousy similar to what I felt when other boys played with brand name "Transformers" while I played with knock-offs from "Kings" in Nampa. I've heard mention of Parts & Labor and was interested in checking them out. Before going I listened to all the bands online. None of them sounded the same in person. Live, Bi-Polar Bear was great; much heavier. Parts & Labor was entertaining, however live they reminded me of a heavier Guided by Voices. I liked their recordings more which came across as a multi-textured wall of sound with vocals that ran against it like cracks.

DAY 55: Picnic

Diggie and I ride to Griffith Park for a picnic full of couch surfers. Everyone is nice full of adventures and stories. Munching on chips I listen to stories about India, France, South America, New Zealand, etc. It gets me juiced. I wanna run away, instead we head over to Bri's where I chew on goat cheese and salami while awaiting the main course of taco casserole. Delicious. I quench my thirst with spiced wine and eggnog resisting the temptation of falling asleep. The couches are so poofy. Comfy, I dissolve into the creases like butter melting in a hot pan. Gotta wake up. Gotta ride home.