L.A.! Seems like I've been there a lot recently...
This time I was down in the land of silicone and palm trees to visit my
good friend Ray, pictured
above. He was in L.A. from NYC for a long xmas holiday break, spending
time with his girlfriend
Rachel (often referred to by him as "Little Tiny" or "Little Baby" or "Tiny
Baby" or "Magic Baby" or
god knows what other crazy nickname) and her family. I've known this
guy since my early teen
years, and it's always a hoot spending time and skating with him.
Here's Little Tiny Baby Rachel and her brother, Raymond. If you added
the two of them together,
I would still probably outweigh them.
After they picked me up from the airport, we went to Santa Monica to shop
for "women's fashions"
and other assorted goodies. For a man without a job, I sure managed
to spend a lot of money
shopping. And I hate shopping.
While in Santa Monica we walked down to the ocean to see a really awesome
sunset. To prove
I'm not lying here is photographic evidence. Take that, naysayers!
And further proof, in case you thought the first pic was a forgery.
Then it was photo shoot time! Here's the happy couple posing in front
of the burnt sky with their
good friend, Mr. Drunk-Bum-on-a-Bike.
It's kinda hard to make out, but Raymond was rockin' a pretty righteous
belt buckle on this day.
This is what you get when you take a photo of Ray taking a photo of himself
trying to patent his
"Blue Steel" look. See Zoolander if you don't get the reference.
If you take a regular photo and make it blury, I'm pretty sure that makes
Todd! He met us in Santa Monica after he got off work (he just moved
to L.A. himself), and I left
with him to crash in Manhattan Beach at the hotel his work was paying for.
Coke and hookers
The next day Ray came over and met up with us, wherein antics and skateboarding
and eating at
crappy-ass Chilis and more Blue Steel faces were partaken in.
Sabotage pic of Todd sleeping, who looks like a corpse when he's out of
Then we woke him up, the lazy-ass, and got him set off on the right foot
with a breakfast beer.
After skating the skatepark in Oxnard, and saying the word "Oxnard" over
and over to entertain ourselves,
we went into Ventura, land of cheap thrift stores, and lots of them. As
you can see here, one is called the
"Retarded Childrens Thrift Store". Ray kept telling us there was a
place called this there, but we didn't
believe him until we saw it with our own eyes. Apparently the PC crowd
hasn't made it to Ventura yet.
This would be a Ventura-based Blue Steel attempt, a look I never got tired
My final day down there, Todd and I met up with our man Craig. We
both went to college with this
guy, and spent a lot of time in our many years together watching wrestling
and debating such topics
as "how awesome is Ric Flair?" and "Jim McMahon: is he leathery everywhere?"
He was the one
responsible for getting him his job in LA, and they now work and surf together
all the time.
He took us out to the cliffs in Palos Verdes, where we "checked out the
surf" and also hiked around
a little bit.
Here's a view down from above on the cliffs...lots of interesting rock formations.
I'm no geologist
but I believe the technical term for it is "tectonic plates pushing shit
together all crazy-like."
This was our path up and down the cliff. It was a touch sketchy.
Here is my entry for the "pensive dudes staring at the ocean" contest. In
actuality, their brains were
probably thinking of whether or not the area was surfable.
I think we probably spent at least 50% of our time down on the non-beachy
beach throwing rocks
at various objects.
Also, someone had built a fort!?! Plenty of beer bottles and cans
scattered around, but surprisingly
no used condoms.
This was written on one of the beams - "Great spot to burn one! nice hut
beav". You can't make up
quality graffiti like that, my friends, that's the work of a genius.
A stoner fort, obviously, leads to photos where you have to cold lamp for
Various forms of seaweed, exciting! This message brought to you by
the Jacques Cousteau Society.
There was a piece of a sunken ship washed up on the shore, but no pirate
skeletons or booty in sight.
Heres Todd, pretending he's in the Navy again and saluting his commanding
officer, Lt. Seagull.
That's all for L.A.!