My Parents are so STRONG!

Some of you may remember that a mere 2 months ago it was Mother's Day. Here's my card.




My Father's Day card lovingly crafted from a CD since my dad loves cd's...ok that's a stretch. I mean everyone loves CDs. I just didn't have any cards on me at the moment.




My menu at our Black Angus Mother's Day lunch. Yes I asked for the crayons:

Go OUTSIDE for Once in Your Life!

So I haven't really posted any pictures of this lil' place called Southern California yet. About 4 months ago I bought this really nice camera, thinking I would be a professional photographer overnight...but I haven't had time to learn how to properly use it. So while here are some of my humble attempts at photography, they were taken with the little point and shoot that could.

Right now I live in a hotel designed for old people. But here's the view from my balcony:




Usually when I work downtown I get this RAD view. This time I'm not so lucky, but we'll just pretend this is still the view I see on a daily basis:




This is about a 15 minute walk from my current place (i'm borderline homeless at the moment, but that's another story). But lets be real. I never walk there. Driving only takes 3 minutes and I'm impatient:




On the way to Santa Monica. This is pretty close to the famous warning sign of the Mexican immigrants darting across the freeway:




Santa Monica sunset:




Something about this makes me of think of an 80's movie. Or maybe Baywatch?

"SATAN LIVES!"

This was screamed at me when I was about 7 years old. I was just an innocent child riding my bike, when a man sitting in his car on the side of the road threw his fast food trash at me as I passed by, peeled out, and stopped next to me to yell, "SATAN LIVES! I WORSHIP HIM!!!" (By the way, he looked like the black haired robin hood from the 80's British TV show. The man in the car. Not Satan.)

I never thought anything of this (I mean besides being terrified and emotionally scarred for life), until I actually met The Lord of all Demons.

Last night I’m turning off all my lamps in my hotel room so I can sleep, when this giant black flying bug the size of China comes out of the curtains. Not wanting the beast to fly into my face while I’m dreaming peacefully, I try to open my sliding doors to let the “little guy” out. But guess what, they're electronically LOCKED. (I guess so drunk people won't try to jump over the edge) No go there.

Of course while trying to open the doors DESPITE the lock (I actually considered pulling out the wires in an act of desperation), the monster vanishes. I poke around the room for awhile, but nope. Nothing.

3am. I hear this rapid clicking sound, wind blasting into my face from the giant wings of Satan himself. I get up. Grab a towel. And smote the demon on the side of the wall.

Being quite proud of my kill, I pick it up to admire my prize. The thing had pincers that could bite through solid cast iron, eyes that glowed bright red, and claws that Wolverine would be jealous of. I couldn’t waste such a trophy in the toilet, so I put it on the bathroom counter, figuring it'd give the maid a little scare.

Now I could return to my wonderful dreamland. The evil presence had been lifted from the room.

Brushing my teeth in the morning, I vaguely remember the battle that ensued just hours ago.

I gotta take a picture of this thing!

But wait....its nowhere to be found. Not on the counter where I so carefully placed it. Not under the counter. Not in the trash.

I'm not sure what's worse. The thought that the bug crawled away to die somewhere respectable (leaving a decaying corpse under my bed or in my underwear), or that something even bigger carried it off.

Sometimes I wonder what ever happened to that guy who screamed at me. Was he aware that Satan was staying at the Westgate? I would love to find him today, and see the look on his face when I tell him that the demon he so worshipped is now rotting in my hotel room.