AS USUAL, I JINXED SUMMER IN LATE MAY (see Hey Summer), but it sure did step on us real hard yesterday. Standing here with my shirt off holding a pear, it seems like it might keep its foot on us for a while to make sure we're dead, like when you step on an extra tough cricket. I always say summer doesn't start until mid-July in conversations anyway, so I was wrong even according to myself. I was so loved as a child; what happened? Anyway, instead of blogging about the disgusting hacking sounds my fat new neighbor makes all day (more on that soon), I hit the pool, then had the pork plate at Versailles, which has lifted the preposterous $6 split plate charge it was running with last year until the owners came back from vacation in Havana to find their restaurant empty. Self-employment: your bank activity graph may look like a kid playing with a yo-yo, but that's the price of freedom.
Cee Brown and Gogo deejay tonight at Bamboo in West LA as we get into our second month running Thursdays there. Cee Brown (of the Bodega crew rocking this Sunday at the Far Bar in Little Tokyo) is such a great deejay that I gave him his own story (see CEE BROWN, The Most Slept-On DJ In LA). Gogo is one of the old school homeys, and a hardworking deejay who killed it at Bamboo a couple of weeks back. We got an outdoor patio that feels like a Colombian holiday without the $1000 plane ticket. We got a full bar and the best mojitos in the west. We have a full-service kitchen serving the best Latin-fusion food around. Party starts at 10, and it's free. Come bask.
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