Cruzin around at 1am...
...out of shear boredom.
Smokin cigs. Listening to Stereolab. Thinking too much. Trying to get lost. Ending up where I started. Turning up the volume. Feeling the cold. Moving without moving. Aging without growing. Repeating the track. Smoking cigs. Wishing I spoke French. Making wrong turns. Growing restless. Realizing I've seen all this before...
Smokin cigs. Listening to Stereolab. Thinking too much. Trying to get lost. Ending up where I started. Turning up the volume. Feeling the cold. Moving without moving. Aging without growing. Repeating the track. Smoking cigs. Wishing I spoke French. Making wrong turns. Growing restless. Realizing I've seen all this before...
LA Weekend
Hollywood bound with Glenn, Lisa, Feria, Steve, and Jessica, to see Adam Carolla's live podcast.
Met up with Kris for some amazing Cuban sandwhiches at Porto's, then on to check out Philip Frost and Barry McGee's Mind the Gap, at the Prism Gallery before the show.
Then to the LA Improv for the podcast with Carolla, Dr. Drew, Ralph Garman, and Doug Benson. We sat right next to the PA where we met Donny, who was badass. Coolest, most down to earth dude you'll find that also resembles a 70's porn star. Adam was about a half hour late because he thought the show started at 8:00 instead of 7:30, so Ralph Garman went up and told stories of the old days living with Adam. Adam then showed up to the right of us at the end of the hallway drinking a beer, looking like a boxer waiting to make his entrance to the ring.
We ordered two buckets of beers ourselves, and proceeded to laugh our ass off for about an hour at Carolla's signature rants and humor. They went a bit long with Drew, so we only got to see a few minutes of Doug Benson, which was a bit of a bummer. We then saw Doug and Nick Swardson outside hanging, where I'm sure they were being harrased by members of the audience, after Doug promised he'd get high with anyone who wanted to, in an effort to make up for the shortened set.
Then on to Canters for some signature LA Deli sandwhiches, and a live band that sounded like early GN'R, if they had two Japanese dudes on bass and drums.
After that we went to the Standard, for Jessica's cousin's birthday. Glenn treated us to some $8 beers as we hung out by the fire pit outside.
As we waited for the elevator, Doug Benson showed up in the lobby, which was crazy considering we were about 10 miles down the freeway from the Improv. We told him we were at the show, and I'm sure he was totally creeped out, as it looked like we followed him into the elevator afterwards. We told him we were going to a party on the 12th floor, and he fained interest as we invited him to cruz with us. As the doors opened, I stepped out thinking it was our floor, but he put his hand in front of me saying it was him, probably thinking we we're just gonna walk to his room and try to hang. He walked away saying "1208 right?" The doors shut, and we had a good laugh at the fact he had no intention of going whatsoever. Nice dude though.
We showed up to a trashed suite, and realized we gave Benson the wrong room number. As we walked through the gauntlet of what could only be two dudes talking about a fight that just went down, a quick scan of the room revealed one guy passed out face down, and yet another in full tears over what must have been chic drama. I turned down the offers of grey goose from a bottle covered in blood, and asked why no one had touched the Patron yet. Apparently it was, "being saved for the white guy." My smile quickly turned to confusion, as the homie offered me some "lemonade" and tried to mix the Patron with Squirt.
We crashed at Kristine's, and finally closed out the weekend with a pastrami rueben dog at the infamous Pink's. Not a bad end to a great weekend.
Met up with Kris for some amazing Cuban sandwhiches at Porto's, then on to check out Philip Frost and Barry McGee's Mind the Gap, at the Prism Gallery before the show.
Then to the LA Improv for the podcast with Carolla, Dr. Drew, Ralph Garman, and Doug Benson. We sat right next to the PA where we met Donny, who was badass. Coolest, most down to earth dude you'll find that also resembles a 70's porn star. Adam was about a half hour late because he thought the show started at 8:00 instead of 7:30, so Ralph Garman went up and told stories of the old days living with Adam. Adam then showed up to the right of us at the end of the hallway drinking a beer, looking like a boxer waiting to make his entrance to the ring.
We ordered two buckets of beers ourselves, and proceeded to laugh our ass off for about an hour at Carolla's signature rants and humor. They went a bit long with Drew, so we only got to see a few minutes of Doug Benson, which was a bit of a bummer. We then saw Doug and Nick Swardson outside hanging, where I'm sure they were being harrased by members of the audience, after Doug promised he'd get high with anyone who wanted to, in an effort to make up for the shortened set.
Then on to Canters for some signature LA Deli sandwhiches, and a live band that sounded like early GN'R, if they had two Japanese dudes on bass and drums.
After that we went to the Standard, for Jessica's cousin's birthday. Glenn treated us to some $8 beers as we hung out by the fire pit outside.
As we waited for the elevator, Doug Benson showed up in the lobby, which was crazy considering we were about 10 miles down the freeway from the Improv. We told him we were at the show, and I'm sure he was totally creeped out, as it looked like we followed him into the elevator afterwards. We told him we were going to a party on the 12th floor, and he fained interest as we invited him to cruz with us. As the doors opened, I stepped out thinking it was our floor, but he put his hand in front of me saying it was him, probably thinking we we're just gonna walk to his room and try to hang. He walked away saying "1208 right?" The doors shut, and we had a good laugh at the fact he had no intention of going whatsoever. Nice dude though.
We showed up to a trashed suite, and realized we gave Benson the wrong room number. As we walked through the gauntlet of what could only be two dudes talking about a fight that just went down, a quick scan of the room revealed one guy passed out face down, and yet another in full tears over what must have been chic drama. I turned down the offers of grey goose from a bottle covered in blood, and asked why no one had touched the Patron yet. Apparently it was, "being saved for the white guy." My smile quickly turned to confusion, as the homie offered me some "lemonade" and tried to mix the Patron with Squirt.
We crashed at Kristine's, and finally closed out the weekend with a pastrami rueben dog at the infamous Pink's. Not a bad end to a great weekend.
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