what's missing?

AND NOT EVEN GOOD PARTS - Lamborghini engines, 24-inch rims, none of that. At some point between 1:30am and 10am yesterday, a team of highly experienced losers stole the tailgate off my sister's Dodge Ram 1500 - parked in the front driveway of my mayoral compound near the corner of Venice Blvd. and Westwood Blvd., just across the street from the strip mall some lady drove into with her Pathfinder the other day (story). According to Officer Silva, who took our police report, the jackery process takes seconds, and LAPD's Pacific Division took seven similar reports of car part theft in the Palms area yesterday, in case anyone tries to sell you a replacement door for your gas cap over the weekend. My first instinct was to ask Jesse The Parking Lot King (story) if he had seen anything, but he wasn't in the lot. My second instinct was to hunt and bludgeon the two young bums who were using the spare parking spot in the back of our building as a soda can storage unit until recently (the one who looks like Tom Sizemore can be seen frolicking in our dumpster in this story here), but luckily logic stepped in for a change. Chances are, they haven't been casing my sister's truck door all these months, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce on it and catch the first plane to Cancun with the riches. Some guy from the halfway house next door with a neck tattoo that reads "Beautifully Broken" wandered over for a second in between cigarettes to tell us he didn't see anything. Beija from across the street rode by on a beach cruiser wearing an awful lot of blue. And that was pretty much the end of our investigation. We're waiting to hear back from insurance, and Officer Silva appeared positive about the chances of recovering the door, but I guess that's his job.

At least we didn't get done like Sunday night Saints & Sinners deejay Charlie did the other night. Apparently two guys mugged him at knifepoint. It's getting real '90s around here all of a sudden.



EVER SINCE I FIGURED OUT THERE'S NOTHING COOL ABOUT BEING a borderline alcoholic last month, The Palms Weekend has been pretty quiet. Sure, story ideas crossed my mind: the possible origins of the used condom that sat in our driveway for a week; a recent dream in which I was plunging my toilet; whether Daffy or Donald is the more popular cartoon duck. All faintly amusing literary romps, but I've had bigger tilapia to fry - which, it turns out, is not strictly an L.A. fish, and can be found worldwide. Who knew?

Seems the universe stepped in yesterday to force my hand. First, some lady drove her car through the front door of the Hookah Zone, right across the street next to Habib Market and the 99c store (see "RIP 88c Store"). Luckily, no customers were in the Hookah Zone, as usual. Meanwhile, firemen were clearing up a two-car crash directly in front of the store on Venice Blvd between Glendon (see "Venice & Glendon") and Westwood that left one driver in a stretcher. Check the video for on-the-spot reportage from my intern Nikki E., who quit yesterday.

I can't make this shit up.

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