Gross Stuff...In Southeast Asia

There are a million obviously gross things that one might come across in Southeast Asia. Milky shit rivers running wide and deep throughout Indonesian urban areas, a motorbike flattened crusty rat getting wedged between my flip flop and flesh in Saigon, fried pork for breakfast, lunch, and dinner in Manila, and a veritable assortment of rotting produce everywhere. Yet some of the grossest things I’ve come across remind me that LA and Southeast Asia? Not so different after all! Case in point, I was walking down Le Thanh Ton St. in Saigon and passed a parked taxi driver fiddling around with something in his car. He then proceeded to exit the vehicle and carefully hang a fresh plastic bag full of urine on a telephone pole. There are plastic bottles full of taxi driver pee all over the city but this is the first plastic bag of pee I’ve seen. This happens in LA all the time I’m sure.




Gross stuff in Southeast Asia also manifests in the form of horrible translations and nascent health practices involving little flesh eating fish. Sometimes though, I can’t help but indulge in very curious gross habits and Singapore might be the cleanest place in the world to do this. I made an appointment with Dr. Fish the other day and let a pool full of miniature fishies eat all the dead skin off my feet and lower legs. At first I didn’t think it was so gross…but then I thought about what was actually occurring – i.e. hundreds of little fish full to the brim with hundreds of different dead skin cells from recent patrons.



Translations into English are also perfect fodder for gross stuff. For instance, I nearly gagged at the possibility of eating a bowl full of the “cream of funny man” at an ice cream parlor in Quy Nhon.



Please keep your children well clear of this “special” swimming pool in Toraja.



But even grosser is this “sandwich” made out of “meat” and “veggies.”




I’ll keep my “eyes” far, far away from your “salami bags,” thank you very much (guest post by Sarah G. Grant)

It has been WAY too long

Hi everybody! So, it's been many many months since my last post here on Gross Stuff in L.A., and well, I'm no longer in L.A. However, rather than start yet another blog with yet another URL, I'm going to leave this up and running, but the gross stuff you see may be from cities other than L.A. In fact, the first one I'm going to put up is a guest post from everyone's favorite foodie, Sarah Grant, from her most recent trip to Southeast Asia. Please tell your friends, enemies, and grandmothers about this blog; I promise you it's gonna take off.

Another mystery totally solved.

If you read back through past entries you will come across a large number of homemade finger bandages we found bloodied in the grass every morning. Guess what? They weren't finger bandages at all, but leg bandages for a tiny Chihuahua that a pudgy man lovingly carried through the neighborhood in the wee morning hours. It was kind of him to discard them on our street every day, and give us a mystery to make life fun.
(Guest post by Andrew)

Mystery not-so solved

After nearly a year of wondering who in their not-at-all right mind was dumping their slops into this little cleared circle near our house, I have finally caught them in the act! I always pictured them creeping out in the pre-dawn hours to dump, but I saw an old woman out there around noon, tossing god-knows-what around. But wait, a few days later I saw a different woman brazenly sloshing the nastiness pictured above out of a bucket. There have been a lot of gross finds in the Offering Circle (hereby shortened to the OC), but this one in particular just turned my stomach. Perhaps it was how fresh it all was, or the combination of ingredients: noodles, chocolate eclairs, tortilla chips, wheat buns, unidentifiable bits, or the copious liquid I saw pouring out of the bucket that no picture can capture.

I really want to ask them the obvious "why?", but I already know they'll just say they're feeding the birds. And then I'll have to point out that birds don't normally eat chocolate eclairs, bone chunks, tortilla chips, fettuccine alfredo, etc, etc the list goes on and on. My new mission is to capture one or both of these ladies on camera for you, gentle reader. Neither lady is particularly remarkable, but if you're like us, you feel like you already know them. Or at least what they've been eating recently.
(Guest posted by Andrew)

Recycling: Fail

I am constantly surprised by how many scenes of discarded clothing we come across in Los Angeles. This pile of unfashionable and moist-looking (didn't touch to confirm dew content) ladystuffs was mere feet from the well-known Offering Circle. Now it's one-stop shopping for sloppy leftover food and padded bras. The previous owner left this mess next to their recycling bin, and I picture them hauling it out to dump into the bin, but then wondering if clothes were even recyclable. Then they realized that there was someone out there, poor and busty, who was in dire need of a bra. Perhaps take the clothes to goodwill (two blocks away) and drop them off? Nah, fuck it, here'll do fine. I would feel a lot better about the large amount of discarded clothing we find if I saw a lot more crazy naked people. Actually, no I wouldn't. (Guest post by Andrew)

Teeth! TEEEEEEEEEETH!!!

The subject line above is what immediately screamed in my head as I perused this pile of discarded clothing while waiting for the bus downtown. There is a lot of cast off clothing here, but then the owner (or angry non-owner) decided to leave a little bit more behind, and extracted two teeth and left them there. Apparently the tooth fairy does not visit the corner of Wilshire and Lucas. This is not only one of the grossest finds this blog has ever come across, but one of the most disturbing as well, especially since these pictures were taken at about four in the afternoon. I don't expect the streets of L.A. to be sparkling, but I would like them sans bloody teeth, if possible. (Guest post by Andrew)

The remains of the day.

At first glance this appears to be the usual mouth-watering assortment of food tidbits that are usually found in the offering circle. Upon closer inspection, however, this offering is unique in that it contains big chunks of bone. In the top picture you can see what appears to be a neck stump toward the bottom, and in the lower picture you can see pieces of what I really hope is not (but is very most likely) spine. Do you know what birds love? Flesh. The bottom picture was taken about five minutes before the top picture. The birds could not get enough of this meaty miasma. I had a strong urge to bag the neck stump and take it to a police station for I.D, but I figured if it were human, it was likely a Fried Green Tomatoes situation and everything had worked itself out. (Guest posted by Andrew)

I Wike My Woo-Ben Wif Deh-Wee Muth-Terd

Sanborn, near Sunset, Silverlake

Lots and lots and lots of deli mustard. I must thank Sarah Grant of Coffee Travails for discovering this gem of a gross thing and taking me to see it. On first glance it almost looks like someone spilled a bucket of thick acrylic paint. This would make a lot more sense than the massive amount of mustard that it really was. In the top photo the mustard looks brownish, so it's difficult to tell what kind of substance it is splattered all over the sidewalk. In the bottom photo, however, you can see a glimmer of bright yellow shining through, as though someone nudged it to see what kind of gold might shine from underneath. So, faith like a mustard seed moves a mountain, but what does a mountain of mustard move?

Scabby Was a Friend of Mine

Vermont, near Vermont Pl., E. Hollywood

"Well, ma'am, we're all done drawing blood, so if you'll just sit real tight we'll get you a little bandage. There you go. You might want to leave this on there for an hour or two, just in case it bleeds a little. What's that? Oh! Well, I suppose if there's a rule against bandages at your work you can cover it up with your sleeve. You don't wear sleeves? Okay. Well, what is it that you do? We can have the girls at reception type up a note for your boss. What is it? You'll have to speak a little louder, I couldn't hear you." She's a dental hygienist. A professional mover. A landscape artist. I'm not making fun of sex workers here, you know. I imagine it's a difficult job. I just know that Vermont Place is a street with many-a-hooker (see Hooker Trash below), and I wonder why someone would so hastily rip off his or her blood marked bandage and leave it on the street. "Hey sweet-haht [we're suddenly in Chicago]. Give me some of that-uh-that suga you got. Come a little closer. Oh god no. God no. You've gots a bloody bandage covering that pretty ahm of yours." Customer speeds off. Frustrated worker rips bandage off. Some light arm hairs accompany it to the street, then to the landfill, forever and ever amen. When will this post end? I need a closer. Hmm. Ta da!

To Commemorate Our Love

Parking lot of El Cid, Myra near Gateway, E. Hollywood/Silverlake

Wait, I mean commiserate. To commiserate our love. I think one of two situations could have happened. The first: man has sex in car with someone. After a genuinely mutually fulfilling session, he nonchalantly tosses the condom out the window, thinking "to hell with custom and courtesy! I'm in love!" The second scenario: man has sex in car with someone. It is awkward and uncomfortable. After a disappointing climax man grunts and stuffs the condom into his ashtray. Man drives partner back to Vermont Place where he or she waits for another customer and/or Tang's Donuts, where he or she will catch the bus after eating an Old Fashioned. Three weeks later man drives truck to El Cid to have a beer. Before man walks into bar he smokes a cigarette or two. Realizes his ashtray is full, so dumps it out in the parking lot. I'm guessing scenario two is closer to reality, but we're all allowed to dream.

Yes, You've Tried Our Dark Chocolate, But What About Our Milk Chocolate?

Lexington, near Vermont, E. Hollywood

Oh my god. Yes, this is exactly what it looks like. The last time I had a gagging fit so severe was when I worked in a warehouse near downtown Denver near a homeless shelter. A lot of homeless people in the area didn't have a place to use the bathroom, so they'd come (this is all speculation, but I'm pretty sure I'm right) into our gated backyard and take a nice private shit. One morning after it had rained the night before, I let my dog, Peaches, out into the yard of the warehouse, and before I could stop her she was rolling around in something on the ground. I ran up to her, pulled her up by her collar, and was overwhelmed by the worst thing I've ever smelled in my life: urban rain-infused human diarrhea covering my dog's wet fur. Luckily our warehouse had a shower in it, so my friend and coworker Bret helped me lift Peaches into the tub and scrub her clean. I don't know how we made it through that moment without vomiting all over each other, but somehow we did, and Peaches was mostly odor-free, though disappointed that her scent was no longer disguised by the odor of satan himself. When I bent down to take a photo of the scene pictured above, this traumatic moment came rushing back to me. The smell was exactly the same. The only missing ingredient was wet dog fur.

Give a Fly a Bone

Westmoreland/Lexington, E. Hollywood

I understand why people leave food scraps laying on the ground. They're thinking of the stray dogs and cats that wander the neighborhood, desperate for treats late at night. These people have big compassionate hearts, but sometimes they get confused and think that plastic cups and McDonald's french fry wrappers are also edible. Likewise for hubcaps, broken dresser drawers, cat pee stained Lazy Boys (or is it Lazeee Boyz?), smashed beer bottles, and diapers. I can understand that if your heart is so so big, sometimes it overrides the brain, which tells most people to simply make the effort to throw their trash in a dumpster. But anyway, this bone is very old, and has been perched on top of this bush for quite some time. This bone would not be easy to reach for most dogs, and even some cats. The fly, however, is loving it. And so while I initially judged, as I often do, the person who set his or her chicken bone on top of a bush rather than putting it in a trashcan, dumpster, or even on the ground where it would be eaten, I must assume that this person is a modern-day St. Francis of Assisi or a fully enlightened Buddha. In eating this old, meatless bone, the fly will have a longer, happier life, and I, who merely judge without asking why, must accept that surface litterers are inward prophets.

In Memory of the Swingingest Pee Bag

Virgil/Lexington, E. Hollywood

If you look closely you can see the offering circle in the background. When my sister lived in Chicago she encountered some amazingly gross scenes, the stories of which I found fascinating, hilarious, and repulsive. My favorite of these stories, which she could tell much better than I can, is of sitting on the bus or L train, and noticing a plastic bag filled with urine tied to the seat in front of her. Every time the bus stopped and accelerated the bag would swing back and forth, as though threatening to come untied and break all over the bus. When I saw this apparent cousin to the swinging pee bag, I couldn't help but snap a portrait.

I'm Growing Gross

Hillhurst, near Prospect, Los Feliz

I present to you the most trashed planter in Los Angeles, California. Sadly, that's probably not true. While it was mostly filled with paper and styrofoam trash, I've circle for you some especially gross spots in this trash line-up. The item closest to you that is circled is some sort of meat product, but I don't know what. It looks sort of like a chicken or turkey leg, but the flesh is decaying in a way that makes it look like an artichoke heart. The other circled item is a bundle of garbanzo beans that smells atrocious. I had to cover my mouth and nose when I walked by, but I couldn't resist snapping this up.

First, An Apology

Del Mar, near Hyperion, Silverlake

These delicious coconuts are not necessarily gross, so I'd like to offer them to you as an apology for waiting so long for me to post. I've been slacking this week, but I must tell you that the worshipers down the street have also been shirking their duty to the deity. There have been absolutely no offerings for the past week. Today, in fact, there was a plastic wrapper in the circle, as though to spite the deity who once was loved. But back to the coconuts. They looked really tasty until they filled with dirty gutter water, and now, rather than imagining myself sipping from one while lying in the shade of a palm on some tropical beach, I imagine a post-industrial collapse scene, where I must pour out the dirty water and scrape the coconut meat from the inside. I will tenderly chew the meat, then spit it into the mouth of my newborn so that he/she will survive while I hijack a tank and drive it toward the river. What river, I don't know. But I'm headed there.

Baby Wipe Fajitas

Virgil/Lexington, E. Hollywood

Mmmm. What do I see here? Red peppers, yellow peppers, shredded iceberg lettuce, red onions, a few kalamata olives, and what's this? Ooooo! A baby wipe! The deity is going to be so pleased that you're thinking about its dirty butt problem, and have decided to offer it something that's actually useful for once.

With the Rise and Fall of Sparrow's Breast

Lexington, near Bates, E. Hollywood/Silverlake

Another dead sparrow! This one is even more mysterious to me than the one behind my house. Its body is much more severely mangled than the other one, but its location is confusing. It's in the middle of a sidewalk, with no trees around for it to fall out of. It doesn't appear to have been hit by a car. I guess a cat could have killed it and left it here, but I like to imagine a sociopath seagull destroyed the sparrow and accidentally dropped it from its beak while it was flying toward a dumpster, freshly filled with rotting fruit and meat. I think seagulls are, for the most part, sociopaths. Pigeons are great. I like pigeons. Sure, you might think of them as winged rats, but they're so mellow and have such nice iridescent necks. Seagulls have a menacing glare in their eyes, so I think one would definitely be capable of murdering a smaller, weaker bird like the sparrow.

Yes, What Do You Have To Go That's Wet?

Lexington, near Virgil, E. Hollywood

Filled to the brim with orange liquid, this styrofoam container, faced with an existential angst, asks the world "Why? Why this? Why now? Why me? Why anything, ever?" It wasn't made to hold liquid safely. Most likely it was designed to carry rice, an egg sandwich, salad, leftover red curry, a chocolate cupcake, something, anything but this.

Plant Food

Vermont, near Melbourne, Los Feliz

It was probably some of that fancy pumpkin ravioli that one of those expensive restaurants in Los Feliz sells. The person who dined on the ravioli most likely drank several pitchers of mojito at Cuba Libre across the street, before attempting to order green tea yogurt at Pink Berry. He or she probably was escorted out of the Pink Berry by a less intoxicated friend. "Leave me alone. I'm fine. No, I'm fine! LEAVE ME ALONE. No, I don't want you to get me a cup of water. I'm just gonna sit here. No, I'M FINE. Get away from me, asshole." This continued until, well, you know how the story ends.

Emptying the Cheek Pouch

On the red line Metro, North Hollywood bound

I had to put two pictures up of this incident, because the close-up doesn't capture the magnitude of the incident, but the wider angle doesn't capture the grossness. I can't even imagine how long it took this person to suck on all those sunflower seeds. They were littering a good portion of the train car. Each shell appeared to be soaked wet with saliva, and they stuck together and to the floor with an astounding cohesion. I had to scoot over to make room for someone, and it was difficult to situate my feet in such a way that I didn't risk getting wet seed shells stuck to them. They wouldn't have been gross if they were dry. I don't understand how they ended up on both sides of the train; they're clearly too wet to slide around.

Carbo Load

Virgil/Lexington, E. Hollywood

I really could have a blog that focuses solely on the offering circle, but that would mean that all the other gross stuff I see would go to waste. This offering consists of every sort of starch you could think of: pitas, tortillas, white rice, some sort of white cookie, a biscuit, a dinner roll, and--what's that? Did you say--YES! A chicken nugget! The offer-er eats a lot of nuggets. There is a McDonald's just a few blocks away, but I think this person is taking their nugget consumption to an unhealthy extreme, unless they buy nuggets simply to place them in the offering circle. I guess that's possible.

Guess What Happened to the Moldy Lasagna

Santa Monica, near Gateway, Silverlake

I warned you that there was a lot of puke this week. Somehow it looks even grosser when it's on the grass. The grass should sort of stabilize the unpleasantness of the vomit, but it doesn't it all. It compounds its nastiness. I imagine that the person who discarded his or her lasagna container up the street, stumbled down the hill, grabbing handfuls of leaves and throwing them at the sidewalk, before losing his or her balance, slumping into the grass, and throwing up all the lasagna eaten just moments before. This is what I imagine. Because I like to pretend there's love, even if there's not.

Brains a la Ravioli di Funghi

Virgil/Lexington, E. Hollywood

These ravioli are like broken hearts. They've been flattened and destroyed, with their brown innards squeezing out of the sides, drying bitterly in the sun. The toast is still in the circle. The lump of brains is still untouched. If I were the deity, I think I'd be getting a little bit pissed (pissed the way Americans mean it (angry), not the way British people mean it (drunk)). In fact, I might get so angry that I'd let my wrath rain down upon Angelenos as a three-day storm. But the joke's on you, deity. We're in a drought, so we need the rain. Betcha didn't think about global warming when you planned your revenge. Betcha still don't even believe in global warming, do you?

Maybe Sparrow, It's Too Late

Behind my house, Lexington/Lyman, E. Hollywood

Your body limp beneath my feet; your dusty eyes cold as clay. You didn't hear my warning. But somebody ate out your stomach. Just tore away at it. They left your eyes, closed sweetly in death, but disemboweled you. Was it a cat? Another bird? A disturbed little kid? An even more disturbed adult? The neighbor's dog? I have no idea. But we wrapped you gently in one of our dog's poop bags and buried you in our trashcan. If the flesh is indeed resurrected, and animals get to come along to heaven, I will be terrified of you.

Somebody Ran Out of Washcloths and Still Hasn't Been to the Clinic

Lexington, between Virgil and Westmoreland, E. Hollywood

Hooray! The finger bandage is back! I hadn't seen any new bandages lately, then Andrew pointed out a sock on the sidewalk, wrapped in tape, and I realized that the injured finger had shed again! Thank god there's some consistency in this world. With all the craziness surrounding me, I feel safe knowing that I can always look forward to the finger bandages appearing sporadically to reassure me that this world is a beautiful, beautiful place.

Poop Soaker

Sunset, near Hyperion, Silverlake

Whenever I know I'm going to be eating something really spicy, jumping up and down a lot after drinking 32 ounces of espresso, or drinking whiskey until the sun comes up three days later, I stick a paper liner in my panties to soak up the diarrhea.

Zombie God Wants BRAAAAAAINS

Virgil/Lexington, E. Hollywood

So, um. What is this? I thought it was oatmeal at first, then maybe really mushy rice. But I don't think it's either. In fact, I have no idea what it is. I know those are more nuggets surrounding the brains, but I still can't figure out what the brains are. The creatures that eat the offering left the brains there, untouched, for at least a week, so I know it can't be too delicious, despite its pleasant countenance.

No, I'm Not Pregnant, I Just Like to Dress Like A Couch We Had in 1981

Target, Santa Monica/La Brea, Hollywood

I don't even know where to begin. Normally Gross Stuff takes the form of rotting food, half-digested food, fully digested and processed out the butt food, and/or things that were once on someone's body but have been discarded and are filthy. But I had to photograph this shit. Old Navy has a decent maternity section. The clothes look like their other unethically made but reasonably priced items, and they fit well. What you see above is Target's entire selection of maternity shirts. Not only are they made out of some horrible material that would make any itchy maternity belly uncomfortable, but they are the ugliest fabric that has ever been seen on planet earth. Why make a pregnant woman, who already feels insecure about her ever-increasing body size, feel good, when you can just wrap her in a pillow case and stick her in the corner with a tub of margarine and some pork rinds?

Sizzling Rice Soup, Or Was It?

Sunset, near Hyperion, Silverlake

Yeah, I have no idea what this once was. I realize that the photo is out of focus, but it doesn't matter. Even in focus this item is indistinguishable. It sort of looks like the hunk of rice you'd find in your sizzling rice soup (which, by the way, the supermarket in Thai Town sells as instant sizzling rice), but it could really be anything. It could be a baby alien, right? I mean, look at those limbs sticking out helplessly from the side. Whatever it is, it's greasy, which is how I like my gross stuff. I want my gross stuff to leave a permanent shadow of oil on the sidewalk after it is eaten or washed away by the rain.

This Person Had Milk With Dinner

Lexington, near Bates, E. Hollywood

Sometimes the dried stuff around the vomit is bright yellow, and sometimes there isn't much former-liquid at all. This person might have been drinking White Russians, or doing shots of that fancy-ass white chocolate Godiva liqueur. My dog is always very interested in vomit. Way too interested. Like, let-me-loose-in-the-neighborhood-and-I'll-find-my-own-dinner-tonight interested.

Meat--?

Virgil/Lexington, E. Hollywood

So the cookie was eaten, the toast was not, and someone added some purplish hunks of meat, along with a couple more nuggets.

AUGH! My fingers! What happened to my fingers!

Sunset, near Bates, Silverlake

I've been following the life--or is it a death? I don't know--of this bag of fingers over the course of several days. I knew that no one would pick it up and put it in a trashcan, myself included, but I didn't know that it would end up being so abused. It has been kicked, ripped, and today it was smashed on the sidewalk, the ketchup and grease soaking through the bag. Now that it's raining outside I can only imagine its suffering.

Lasagna? Ravioli? Spaghetti Marinara? Who Cares! Mold!

Hyperion, near Sunset, Silverlake

This dirty container, formerly known as a pasta dish, sports a chic gray fuzzy mold spot on its right shoulder. Green and darker green mold of a different variety spot the bright sexy red sauce crusted on the sides. I want to lick it. Please let me lick it.

Ye Drunken Vomit

In the parking lot of Ye Rustic Inn, Hillhurst/Russel, Los Feliz

Ye old belly emptying. Ye old heaving out the scotch. Ye old oatmeal doon't make a much of a leht naht snack. I'm not sure what accent that was supposed to be. Scottish/Irish/Italian, I think. If all I had to gauge a city's drinking with were the piles of vomit on the ground, I'd say L.A. has had a binge week. There has either been a whole lot of celebrating something, a whole lot of mourning something, or a case of giardia going around because I have seen ridiculous amounts of vomit (more to be posted).

Bit of Cookie and Bit of Toast

Virgil/Lexington, E. Hollywood

It has been awhile since my last post, and I apologize for taking so long to refill your disgust bucket. I'm starting out mild today, and working up to the really gross stuff. Just because I haven't been posting, doesn't mean I haven't been photographing. If you remember, last week the offering circle had one single, not-so-nasty cookie in it. Well, as you can see much of the cookie was eaten, and then a few chunks of toast were thrown in. Please note that the kalamata olives are still in the circle, after all this time.

Splendor-er in the Grass

Monroe, near Lexington, E. Hollywood

This dirty diaper is one of several dozen dirty diapers gracing the lush grass of this vacant lot where I take my dog to run around. Creating and updating this blog has forced me to think quite a bit about humanity. Why are we so filthy? Why are we so careless? Why do we think it's okay to take a pile of dirty diapers and dump it in a vacant lot when there are countless dumpsters in countless alleys throughout the neighborhood? I understand the concept that the lack of ownership creates a lack of care, because if there's no personal investment in a space then the space can--and will--be trashed. I understand the concept but I guess I don't really understand the behavior. Someone will have to one day clean up these dirty diapers. Plus, it's fucking disgusting to watch my dog roll around in your baby's shit before I can catch her.

Splendor in the Grass

Monroe, near Lexington, E. Hollywood

This ancient jar of vaseline has been out to pasture for quite some time now. The jelly inside the jar is so old that it has crystallized along the sides. I imagine that it was angrily tossed over the fence one night when a jilted lover decided it was no longer necessary to jelly things up.

Hooker Trash

Vermont Pl., near Vermont, E. Hollywood

This little-known side street, Vermont Place, is between Santa Monica and Lexington, and I thought it would be a good place to cut over to my apartment. Oddly enough it dead ends, which makes it an ideal location for prostitutes and creepy people who sit in their cars with the windows rolled up to hang out. I saw one prostitute hanging out on this street at 5:30 am a couple weeks ago, when I was on my way to the subway station. She quickly ducked around the corner when she saw me, and I pretended not to notice. Anyway, I found this gem of a pile yesterday and had to return with my camera. What does a prostitute do, you might ask, when she's not--well--doing what she gets paid to do? I'll tell you: she eats ice cream. Lots and lots of ice cream. This particular prostitute took off her hose, panties (not pictured, but they were there yesterday), and heels, and dove face first into three giant containers of ice cream. I'm not sure when she ate the orange and the Nilla Wafers; I guess it's possible that she combined them all into one super dessert concoction, and then ran around the neighborhood for a few hours until the sugar wore off. Pretty unhealthy, but hey. Much healthier than smoking meth or drinking anti-freeze.

Bonin' Up

Lexington, near Vermont, E. Hollywood

Wow. So this hunk of off-colored flesh and bone was placed here by an incredibly compassionate person. Yes, it's rotting, complete with a few eager flies swarming around, but whoever put this here cares a lot about stray animals. You can't see this in the picture, but the bone is in one of several containers circling a telephone pole. In the other containers are piles and piles of brightly colored cat food and some fresh water. What I like best about the bone is that it is reflected in the bright, clean metal that it was placed in. It's like looking at two rotting bones at once.

Disappointing Offering

Virgil/Lexington, E. Hollywood

It's not really that gross, but I wanted to keep you all updated on what's been going on at the offering circle the past few days. The animals, birds, and gods seemed to have quickly consumed the fried food/tortilla meal from earlier this week, so this morning someone offered up a really big chocolate chip cookie. It wasn't soggy. It wasn't dirty. In fact, it looked pretty tasty. The chocolate chips were a bit melty from the sun. I'm disappointed that it's not more nauseating, but happy that the deity gets a nice clean dessert.

Now I Turn Inward

My house (Lexington/Lyman), E. Hollywood

My dog is shedding so much right now that there's a pile of fur in our trashcan that probably weighs a third of her body weight (she weighs 87 pounds or so). She loves to lie on the only rug in our house, and her black and white fur clumps up most disgustingly. Before we vacuum the rug we scrape it with our shoes to get some of the extra hair off. It's really gross. What you see above is the result of a small amount of shoe-scraping.

I See the World Through Pomade Colored Glass

Route 16 Bus, UCR to the Metrolink Station, Riverside

This picture is impressionist. Artsy. You like it, right? It's pleasant. You think, that's pretty. I could look at those bushes for awhile. Normally I would agree with you, if all I'd seen of this was the photograph. But I need to tell you that what you're looking at is not a photoshopped version of a nice Riverside landscape. No. If you look toward the top of the picture you'll see that the image is clear. What the blurry part is is someone's hair grease. Insane amounts of hair grease. Smudged all over the bus window. I tried not to stare at it, but it couldn't be helped. It was so gross, so thick. I would've missed my stop, too, staring at the greasy window, but luckily the woman behind me snapped me out of my reverie by asking me to untie the knot in her dollar store bag so that she wouldn't break her new nails.

The Secret Nachos

Lexington, near Vermont, E. Hollywood

There's a guy that walks up and down my street selling nachos. I was hoping he was the tamale cart guy, or even the corn-on-the-cob guy, but sadly he's just the nacho guy. These nachos have been intentionally placed under a bush to eat later in the evening, I imagine, when the purchaser returns to claim his midnight snack. Or that was the original intention. However, they've been under this bush for awhile, which is clear from the delicate mold spots dotting the nachos that remain out of the sun.

Menstrual Extraction? Zygotic Panda?

Sunset/Bates, Silverlake

Greasy onion and tomato smashed so they have a cute little tail, as most zygotes have. This was trailed by several more onion strands, soaking oil into the sidewalk. I wonder what people think of me, hunched over disgusting items on the sidewalk with my camera.