On Saturday night Carol and I went to the 80 year celebration/show for the Los Angeles Art Association/Gallery 825. These kinds of “300 people in a steaming hot room looking at some good but mostly bad art” shindigs don’t really flip my switch, but all in all it wasn’t bad. I can almost always get a poem or two (or one of these) out of a scene like that.
But after an hour or so we’d both had it, so Carol said to some friends of hers, “Be right back…” and we headed for the car. About half a block from 825 on La Cienega there is a restaurant with an outdoor patio, and as we approached who should amble out the front door but David Johansen, ye olden tymes singer from the New York Dolls, and current bon vivant and man about town.
Well, I think I have this set up now to stop most of the comments from the casinos and mortgage scam joints. What kind of festering bag of filth resorts to spamming anyway?
I went to the wedding of one of Carol’s friends a year or so ago, and I met a guy there who was one of the bigger spammers, or worked for one of the bigger spammers, but it was a wedding, so I didn’t spit on him or punch him in his mouth to break all of his teeth. And I can honestly say now that not injuring him somehow is one of my only regrets in life.
The Isuzu Trooper turned over to 175,000 miles the other day, so to celebrate I hit the pump for some of that sweet, sweet almost-three-buck-a-gallon unleaded. Ah, there’s nothing like approaching the $60 mark for a tank of gas. It’s the logical and welcome progression of capitalism, and it makes me super-proud to be an American!
When I started driving I had a ’69 Chevy Malibu but no job, so I used to roll up pennies and buy fifty cents worth of gas at a time. I couldn’t get far on that, but I sure got there fast. Adults allowing a kid to drive a car like that is clearly insane, and quite possibly child abuse.
Gah, two new Dell computers arrived tonight. They weren’t supposed to be here until Monday. Now at least one of them will be taunting me all weekend to set it up.
Problem is there are seven computers in the house now (it would have been eight, but we managed to dump one off on Carol’s mother a few weeks ago), and not that I don’t appreciate the absurdity of two people having seven computers, I do, it’s just a bit much.