Had so much fun driving there in mom’s Pious, I took 198 to get from 101 to 33, and it was amazing! That little hybrid can move! Had dinner with Ardemis, my favorite realtor in LA, who gave me this amazing mix of Emergen-C and sweet lemons to stave off the illness I felt coming on. Then caught up with my favorite Ruff Ryder, had breakfast at Mani’s, used up my gift cards at the Grove, Lunch at Madame Matisse with Carole, followed by some quality time in my old (still hers!) Jacuzzi. Man, I miss that jacuzzi. Later a meeting with Flo, followed by dinner at Cru, the best restaurant in the WORLD. Saturday; breakfast at Urth cafe with Sherri, Carole and Jill, Lunch at Toi with Ulrich and Deb, a little impulse shopping on Beverly, a bone-crunching massage from Oxsana at Brooks, just what I needed!!! Although, I wish I could have relaxed, my muscles kept tensing up as she punctured them with her thumbs and knuckles. Must’ve been the Thai iced coffee. Brooks has renovated and has gorgeous slate tiles in the sauna and shower now. It was faaaabulous. Every city should have a proper Russian bathhouse. Saturday night, laid low, but ate some killer mac&cheese at Dusty’s, Jill’s favorite date restaurant.

Sunday I felt the toxins Oxsana had released, fighting to make their way out through my upper respiratory system. Almost called it off, but knew I’d regret it if I did. So I woke George up, saddled his Monster, and we met Frank for brunch at some place behind the scientology center (the big one). Ran into a chick who remembered me from DRA, even without my pink hair, as I complimented her friend on her rad sweater. So hard to find good sweaters these days. Off we rode, to Malibu. It was soooo awesome being back there, I didn’t even notice that George’s old Monster had a clapped-out suspension, I just rode the piss out of it and loved every one of the 100+ miles. We went to Hustler Hollywood for coffee (no, really, they have a café) afterward, and Frank and I decided we’ll start writing porn, as there’s no biker porn there. I wonder if the porn industry is affected by the writer’s strike? It’s not like they’re known for being exceptionally well-written. Sunday night Jill and I saw Sweeney Todd, which was fabulous. I love Tim Burton, he’ll be goth till the day he dies.

Monday woke up sicker than ever, breakfast at Alcove, then hit the road. I was going to just take 5 the whole way to 198, instead of 33, but just past 46, 5 came to a complete standstill. People were getting out of their cars, peering up the road. The median is just a wide swath of dirt, so I knew I could just turn around and go catch the 46 to the 33. But I was skeert. I try to limit my law-breaking to speeding, as speed limits are just BS revenue generators. I didn’t want to be the only one crossing the median, as it’s forbidden territory. But there was this very cnvenient window ahead of me, as I was in the right lane and needed that gap to get to the median. So I poked my little Pious through, and a truck a few yards back took the lead and went ahead and made the U-turn. Figuring it’s always less flagrantly illegal if somenone else does it first, I went ahead and did it. Made it home in record time, too. I wonder if all those people don’t have maps, or if they just assume that anything other than a major highway is going to be too slow. Weird. I hope the masses never discover my secret back roads, then where will I go?

Hustler Hollywood, home of the best damn eggnog latte I’ve ever had.

Yes, we’re all awaiting change this year. But why the hell didn’t we force change earlier? We could’ve impeached them. They’ve commited enough crimes.

Soapy fountain in Silver Lake. Man, I miss that neighborhood.


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