Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Ducking Bullets

Fuck, I forgot to talk about the shooting.

Not the Cleveland shooting, thought that was something I never thought I would have to read about. I'm sure y'all in Cleveland have a better understanding of that situation than I do being in Los Angeles. I wanted to mention the shooting that happened on my friend Ben's street a few weeks back.

To start I wanted to point out that I don't know what was fired or at whom. I don't know if anyone was hurt or worse. I don't know anything other than we heard a big blast while watching something like 'Beauty and the Geek' and then helicopters were flying above us shinning spot lights into Ben's backyard. That's the second shooting I've been within harms way of. Two shootings, two cities, two states, one year. I am currently working on my hip-hop LP.

I guess that is it.

Monday, October 15, 2007

Herbie Fully Loaded Two

I sat right by Lindsey Lohan on a flight from New York to Los Angeles on Saturday. That's how Hollywood I am. She even spoke to me. All this and the Indians won too.

It was amazing to be back east and feel a real deal Autumn air on my face. The leaves were starting to turn and people were breaking out their coats and scarves. I miss the fall like nothing else. The smells, the colors. Don't get me wrong, it's not warm in Los Angeles and the sky is not bright. In fact, it's a cool sixty today and the clouds in the sky make one believe they could be walking down Lorain Road instead of Sunset Boulevard.

The people were different too. Not better, not worse; different and in a refreshing way. The length of a country and the different seas really does change everything. Well, not everything. I think we can all agree that Lindsey Lohan is hot. I am a witness.

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

They Are All New in Town

I had something kind of vital that I wanted to write about but I forgot what that was. It may have been the fact that I am a huge Indians fan now. Give me a playoff victory and I will repay you with my loyalty. But, aside from that, it might not have been what I wanted to get off my chest. It was probably the news that I am now a proud renter in the city of Los Angeles. I am also a certified asshole because I have dropped a shit ton of money on a new bed, furniture and celebratory booze. Oh well, my bedroom has a view of the LA skyline rather than a burned down house in Tremont (which, having been said, is a sight I kind of miss... arson aside).

This blog is not supposed to be a diary (I detest shit like diary land but now seem to have fallen into the trap of writing about my day-to-day. No one cares about my emotional state, unless I am on the verge of jumping off a bridge. That would make many interested enough to read) but an exploration of a mid-western dude living in a very western world. So, with that in mind, I will give the observation that everyone here IS also a mid-western dude (or dame) living in a western world. Or so it seems. Example: The bartender at the The Powerhouse (the choice bar for after school beers) is from Cleveland... a fact we found out while watching our beloved Indians beat the implorable Yankees. And where a bartender from Ohio roams, so does the Ohio drunkard.

It's a warm feeling to run into someone that you can discuss the pros and cons of life in Parma with. It's warmer still to know that Parma (as example) is still there living on with out you but still waiting to let you in her arms again. I know everyone escapes some sort of hold eventually, city or not, but you never lose the charm of what molded you. I was molded by the city of Cleveland and the wonderful people I loved within it.

Most Friday nights here become a radical BBQ, made up of misplaced Clevelanders who are eager to discuss old times and old friends, leaving the outsiders to look at their beers and wonder how it is that we can drink them so much faster than they can. The answer to that questions is an easy one: it's because we are better than you in every single way. Fuck yes.

Tuesday, October 2, 2007

Go Badboy Go!

I need to express my true congratulations to my old friend the Canadian Bad Boy of Cleveland All-Pro Wrestling for his unprecedented appearance on the WWE's flagship television program Monday Night Raw. No, I did not see it but I've read about it on the internet and I am truly sad that I missed it. I heard it was pretty foolish. He was an OSU sumo champion or something just as confusing. But no house means no cable TV. I love knowing that someone from Clevo, who has worked so hard at one goofy thing his entire adult life, made a dream come true. God speed, brother.

It's getting fucking warm in California. I drove to the Santa Monica beach today as a way to escape my harsh reality. Fucking Baywatch, out there. Bikinis and bicycles. Someone get me a tan and help me lose twenty pounds. Then I'd be in the circle man. That's all it's going to take.

PS--Indians/Yankees. I'll be watching at a bar in the middle of the afternoon. Buy me a pitcher at Hooters, won't you?

Monday, October 1, 2007

"It's the First of the Month/Get Up! Get Up!"

Bone Thugs N Harmony. Apartment less. I digress.

As I said in my last post, I love Lebron James but, man, Saturday Night Live was awful last week. With so much deserved attention on Cleveland's sport franchises, it was kind of a bummer to have to watch that display. Nothing against Bron, he's my favorite human being, but I felt bad for Americas late night television audience. A lot has been said about the writers coming up short but I don't think anyone was even trying with that shit. Hopefully you, my readers, were off being foolish and having premarital sexual encounters.

Ryan and I made our first appearance at a Browns backer bar this past Sunday. I almost cried out in joy every time they showed a shot of the Cleveland skyline. I've only been gone for three weeks but some big-time home sickness is beginning to appear. I made a new friend there though whom I shared some eerie ties with from back home. And I got drunk at eleven in the morning which seriously ruined my Sunday afternoon.

Between sighs of lust directed at the (216) area code, I have continued the search for a new home with less luck than ever before. I don't think Los Angeles wants us here. The proverbial dirt keeps getting kicked into our faces. Even the three or four pretty girls sitting throughout the Edendale library are not helping to lift my spirits today. Plus I have a huge amount of corned beef and reuben digesting inside of me. I thought people in California were obsessed with health... all I see are taco stands and burger joints.

Oh... I want to give a shout out to the dudes in Skeletonwitch. I saw their ugly mugs in a copy of Revolver today. Ohio death metal is about to have it's day.