Time takes its toll

2009

  When looking back at my life in 2009, I feel a la Lester Burnham (American Beauty), but slightly less peeved and more alive than ever. If only some things didn't cancel out other events, than this year would have reigned supreme among the rest. But you know, some things just have to be changed.

  It's like crumpling up a piece of paper with ideas that just didn't cut it. Oh, then badly missing the wastebasket. No one can just press reset and hope that everything will start over. And no, I'm not talking about a Y2k bug or anything. Like the piece of trash, unfavorable memories remain, sort of like rollover minutes. On the other hand, I technically wouldn't have much experience with rollover minutes because I never answer my calls. I should, though. That's one resolution for me, as well as these: 

Weed out real buddies. You are my best fiend.

Don't apologize so much. Sorry, but I'm not going to be sorry '10.

Throw everything away. All the baggage in my life, bad trip.

Have a sleeping pattern. So I won't be mistaken for Anne Frank.

Don't be fluent in sarcasm. Even though it wards off all the evil.

Attain more knowledge. Obtain more knowledge.

Travel more. Customs, not the culture, but the airport hassle.

Stop bad habits. I've been saying The Pledge of Allegiance while picking my lips, since five.

Live in the moment, still. Carpe diem, me ineptum.

Be healthy. Detox.

Smashed, smashing.

Echo Park, Los Angeles, Calif.

Find me on here!

  The 5^th annual LA Record Xmas party was a massive ball that turned out positive (drug test) results. Whether one be a dirty, young hipster or dirty-old-bones opportunist, the feeling of being a big kid trapped in a Bedrock Rehearsal labyrinth was nothing short of amazing for most. Well-wishers sat on Santa's chicken thighs and passed on the secret code in order to receive alt gifts. Some satisfied their cravings with I Can't Believe It's Pot Butter treats, while some stood in line for Jaguar Spirits Tequila or Hit + Run screen printed shirts--all free. For me, I got to stay semi-put at the pop up store, while taking a whiff of fumes in the hot box, courtesy of our neighbros from Burger Records. That means that I missed out on all of the musical acts, besides The Soft Pack performance of “Extinction.” I don't think I missed out on all the free goodies, though. Pretty smashing.

Huff and puff

Gala Knörr *

Circus Freaks, hookerplz@

Costa Mesa, OC/L.A.

   Thursday's MOOD at South Coast Plaza was a block party in the least ghetto fashion. I basically missed all events over the weekend, and heck, I'm probably missing some right now. So disorganized. On a side note: Editor's going to kick my ass. Monday was another one of those choose your own adventure nights, minus the GPS. No direction. I had difficulties keeping my cool, and I haven't been this stressed since that one time in fourth grade, hahah. Once we got into the venue, the wrist bands made up for everything, though. We Are the World, MEN, and Gossip. Amen.

I've got it, Alien Gonzalez!

  Falcon never landed, Yo La Tengo got it, and the Green Lantern is set. CGI is not for me.

No, no Winona syndrome

    The Pleasure of Being Robbed is co-written by Eleonore Hendricks, who pretty much stole the spotlight as the ping pong slaying, reckless driving, Winona Ryden queen. I love free stuff, but I'm no five finger discounter. However, whatever Elenore's philosophy may be, also works for me. 

    Disclaimer: The cubs come in at the closing scene.

Ron Jeremy Scott

Last summer, I found this JS at an ukay-ukay (thrift store) in Cubao, Philippines. It's so B.C. compared to the Jeremy Scott x Longchamp Pliage bags from Fall/Winter 2009, but ₱150 sure beats $249. Notice how I'm comparing a dress shirt with a bag?