someone stole my avacado

i got home last night and looked in the fridge. i could have sworn to all that is holy that i had half of an avacado in there. now it is gone. i have the strong suspicion that my neighbor stole it. he has keys to the whole building and i was gone all day, so it is not impossible.

possible explanations?

1) curiosity causes him to invade my apartment. he checks the fridge. overcome by a lust for food he steals my avacado and makes a salad.

2) mild malice causes him to invade my apartment. he looks around for some way to fuck with my head with little actual damage. he finds and steals my avacado. he eats it raw.

either way or some other way, i have been profoundly disturbed by my AWOL avacado. the foundations of my world have been shaken. things can not simply dissappear.

THERE MUST BE AN EXPLANATION!

trains and knives and keys

Gabe asked if i wanted to see audioslave play on hollywood blvd in front of the el capitan theater. I could give a shit about audioslave, but the idea of seeing hollywood blvd. shut down for a show was intriguing, so i said ok. Gabe followed me home and we dropped off my car at my new apartment because parking would be a bitch in hollywood and i could just take the metro home. This was exciting because it would be my first time taking the train to my new place. One reason I moved where I did was because its a block away from a metro station.

The gig was a taping for jimmy kimmel's show on abc, and it sucked. I dont like watching tv that much, but watching carmen electra giggle on a jumbo tron in the middle of a crowd of would-be concert goers? unbearable. Mind you, I was standing the whole time. And now the band comes on. Now I'm pretty easy to please in a live band situation, even though I consider audioslave to be symptomatic of all that is wrong with music, popular culture, and the world as we know it, i expected to have a good time in spite of myself. Nothing breaks down my inner critic like large crowds and big amplifiers. Thing is, the stage was set up facing the opposite side of the street, rather than facing up the street like an intelligent person would have done. Consequently, the vast majority of the crowd was not anywhere near the front of the stage, To cap it off, the p.a. was clearly not an outdoor p.a. Hell, it was barely an indoor p.a. Since I wasn't overwhelmed with sound, i had ample time to actually listen to the music and find that it was pretty uninspired. Within a pretty well structured pop-song format, chris cornel shouts and wails ineffectual melodies, and then tom morello plays a guitar solo that is exactly the same shit he's been doing since "bombtrack". Then they do it again. I heard later that they played "spoonman" and "killing in the name", which would have been interesting to see since i have a good deal of respect for the bands audioslave sprang from, but I had left long before they played those songs. chris cornell was probably soulfully yelling "Fuck you I won't you tell me!" while I was concerning myself with the guy on the red line who was waving a knife around. Yeah. Im all excited about taking the trains for the first time, and there is some homeboy showing off the tattoos on his chest, the rosaries on his neck, and the blade in his hand. The car isn't exactly empty either, which is weird. If you were gonna wave your knife around in public, you'd think it would be around a small group of friends and family or something. Not this guy. 10 feet away there is some business man reading the paper. Surreal. Nobody gave a fuck, like they all had knives of their own or something. He got off at the next stop, which i thought was nice. I think I'm going to enjoy using public transportation

So I get to my stop and hit the supermarket on my way home. Butter, orange juice, beer, vodka, and cup o' noodles. Get to my door and my keys are gone. I put down my groceries and empty my pockets on to the floor. Gone. Keys are gone. My keys. The keys to my new home and my old jeep are on some train shuttling around los angeles. My cool little bottle opener too. Where am i going to sleep? Its 11 o clock and ive got work in the morning. What am i going to do with this butter? My neighbor comes home and lets me put my perishables in her refridgerator. Very nice of her, i thought. I grab a beer and go outside to inspect possible break-in points. i live on the second floor. I managed to get onto the roof of the building next door and jump across the gap to my window which i had luckily left wide open. One problem solved, but i still need to get replacement keys. I go downstairs and get my butter back, mix up a screwdriver and leave the keys to tomorrow. Turns out they were in Gabe's car. Finding those was one of the most victorious feelings of my entire life.

The Language of Love

so i was looking at the stats for this very blog that you are reading right now. google has started linking people to it. one person was looking for, and i quote, "poison to kill chipmonk". unfortunately, i couldn't help the guy.

another person was looking for "who is playing at skooby's hot dogs saturday", which is kind of cool because the answer was actually here. komputadora all the way live played at skooby's, and played very well.

the most interesting one was french. it was this blog, translated into french. incredibly cool. google will turn my english words into french ones for you. you can link to it in the title of this post.

Jive Turkey

Later thoughts regarding yesterday's post.

When faced with the possibility of striking out on my own, I knew I had to do it. Living with my dad isn't so bad, but I can see myself going into creative atrophy under his supervision, which is a crime I can only blame myself for. When moving in, I thought that maybe I had a shot at changing our relationship to something a bit more open. After all, I hadn't lived with the guy since I was 10, and even up until then he traveled quite a bit. It only took a year and five months to learn that we were who we were and nothing was going to change that. Fine. I told him last night I was moving out and he said he would miss me. I feel kind of bad leaving the old guy all alone, but I know better than to worry for that. We're both solitary figures. He has his routines, I have mine, and were both in the way of eachothers'.

Aside from that, here is my real worry. I will now be paying rent. I will have to turn my pseudo-day job into a real day job to afford it. More hours, more days. The day job is the mortal enemy of the artist, but if anyone has a shot at that battle, it's me, and I'd be a coward not to take it.

I move forward with hope and caution.

I read Bill Watterson to revisit my roots.

Fear

Isn't this a nice little house? It's divided into four separate apartments, one of which I am about to sign a lease for. The manager left me an answering machine message on Tuesday saying that "credit checked out ok" and "blah-blah Lease blah-blah Call me Back".

Thing is, I have a paralyzing fear of change. I know I need some new surroundings to help me out of the rut I've been in, but it's just so terribly easy for me to be passive.

Moving is a big deal, no? For me it is a life-changing event that could quite possibly alter the course of history. Man, I've got to stop being so narcissistic. Also, I've got to learn that things can sometimes be undone. Not completely, of course, but short of murder, babies, and bad tattoos, life can be remarkably flexible. And really, when you think about it, moving is pretty small potatoes as far as possible unalterable damage. Absolute worse case scenario is: I loose some money and go crawling back to my father and never move out, like my weird uncle who is over 60 and still lives with his mother, seemingly happy.

what do turds say?

I am dying to know what the above turd is saying. If you can read his baloon, please let me know.

This is the deal. There is a hot dog stand in the middle of Hollywood. On Saturday nights, they have live music right there on the sidewalk. Full on Rock and Roll madness on Hollywood blvd with freak pedestrians cruising by and young people and tourists clogging the street.

If you look at the picture above, you'll see that there is some space under the Iglesia marquee. This is where the drum riser and sound system are set up. Bands are paid with hot dogs.

Why do I mention this? Aside from the fact that it is an incredibly cool idea? Because Komputadora All The Way Live, the future of Rock and Roll, is playing there on Saturday, May the 14th at 11 pm.

This is the Komputadora All The Way Live (katwl) internet web page. Audio and pictures and stuff.

http://www.popgoeslethal.com/katwl/

This is the blog of some guys that go around reviewing hot dogs. They love Skooby's. With good reason. I was there last Saturday and the food is quite grubby.

http://hotdogspot.com/2004/06/skoobys-in-hollywood-have-we-found.html