Where the Hell Have I Been?

Good question. Like I mentioned, I've been living in Denver the past two years, and the amount of gross stuff here in underwhelming. It's nothing like LA.

I've tried to get back on the gross boat, but it's hard. While the neighborhood I work in has its share of disgusting (after returning from the dumpster one day I couldn't get the scent of human excrement off my shoes), it's just less compelling than L.A.'s yuck.

Anyway, I'll be back on here off and on. If I see something fantastically disgusting I will definitely post about it. If not, then I'll be waiting for something else to sweep me off my feet.

Forever Let Us Hold Our Banner High

30th and Welton

Last night the streets of Denver flooded. Water flowed over the hoods of cars, blew manhole covers off the street, and washed up some delicacies like this Mickey Mouse diaper above. What once was simply full of urine and/or shit, is now also saturated with the dirty, oily storm water that cleansed our streets. Its bulging, effluent spirit spoke to me so clearly from the sidewalk.

Though it whispered so softly, I listened with an intensity reserved for moments like this. In the most delicate voice it implored me "Come along."
"Come along where?" I asked
"Come along and sing a song."
"What type of song? You are so wise, yet so mysterious. Please! I am listening for your message."
"Come along and sing a song and join the jamboree."
I leaned in closer, yearning for more. Please, I thought, I am ready. I am ready to receive you.

But there was only silence. A bitter, bloated silence.

Moist Clippings

Between Intelligentsia (on Abbot Kinney) and Venice Beach

It's not that I don't endorse public haircuts. Quite the contrary. I feel like shedding those extra dead cells in the middle of the sidewalk is actually probably a pretty good idea. What makes this picture so delicious is the wetness of the clippings. Sitting on a dry sidewalk, this clump of hair has embraced its neighbors. You know, if its neighbors were pebbles, dirt, twigs, and probably a few strands of wayward dog fur. It's not like this hair is going anywhere either, and that's the mystery of this image. It was a professional haircut, by the looks of it: someone spent a lot of time ensuring it was cut with neat straight lines, then considerately swept it into a little pile afterward. So why did they leave it on the sidewalk? To make me hungry, that's why.

This is why I love you

Friends, lovers. I apologize for such a long, long vacation. I was busy giving girls rides in my dusty Chevrolet coupe. Sure, I'm sort of known as a ladies' man. And yes, I do like to get my brewsky on, especially when I'm driving through Iowa with a trunk full of meth. I meet all kinds a girls. Short girls. Tall girls. Girls with ponytails. And often times they're so drunk that they do accept my offer to give them a ride home. But you know what? You'd be surprised at how many give me gas money.