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?