6/16/10

THE DAY THAT ALMOST HAPPENED



TODAY BEGAN TRENDING WAYWARD this morning outside Starbucks on Overland and Washington, where I returned to earth from thoughts of hustledom just in time to catch the conclusion of a spectacular rant from a ponytailed white man dressed like he's either a) too rich to give a shit about his appearance or b) dog-licking mad. I moved for my camera's video function too late to catch him loudly repeating phrases like "my rent went up four hundred DOLLAAAARRRSSS" before being carted off in a minivan by his visibly embarrassed family. Actually, maybe he's not that crazy.



Walking home, I caught the old hunchbacked white guy with the glasses and cane who hangs around the laundromat, hobbling across Venice and Glendon [story] at two miles a year while smoking a cigarette. And I still managed to fumble the shot. I have a lot on my mind this week. Half a block later I saw a sullen Oaxacan pimp dressed like those g'ed-up bulldogs on those t-shirts they sold on Crenshaw in the '90s, muttering at a scabby 50-year-old Courtney Love stand-in. A shot of this exchange alone would have sent thepalmsweekend.com's ranking through the roof, but I caught the distinct feeling that I might get my shit punched in, and forfeited the shot. Then I ran into Jorge, the deejay who got fired from Saints & Sinners for partying too hard (repeat that out loud for effect) on his way to the bus stop, and somehow couldn't get him to commit to attending a drunken blowout I'm promoting next Thursday (more on that tomorrow). If Palms was Japan, I would have committed hari-kiri on the spot.



I arrived too late/early to the Top Chef exhibition in the Culver Plaza parking lot to catch free lunch from Saints personality, head Yard chef and former TC contestant CJ Jacobson. I'm probably posting this article way too late to get a significant number of views. And I have a sinking feeling that neither of my two important appointments this evening are going to happen. Today wasn't/isn't bad. It just wasn't/isn't.


Oh, and I emailed my latest political rant "Air Iran" (click to listen) to NPR about thirteen minutes ago, and still have yet to receive a fawning, exclamation-mark-laden response. Does anyone have a connection over there? That station gives hours of airtime to anyone with an accent, a beret and an unpronounceable musical instrument. How about some political rap that actually makes half a fuck's worth of sense?

No comments:

Post a Comment

Related Posts with Thumbnails