So I fucked up, I had a brilliant picture all lined up, but I didn’t get it, and I ended up having to post a picture of my best buddy shootin’ y’all the stank eye instead. Now Imagine this, me, this guy, at the Gold’s Gym in Venice Beach (the Mecca of Body Building), getting my leg rehab on (dunking on white people again in 3 months, so simma down). I’m grinding it out (def. not grinding, was listening to MMJ and in a heavy daze), and while doing my usual check to see if juice heads were laughing at my form, I noticed this one elderly roid-berg standing nearby doing a wild Bruce Lee meets tweeker-dancing type thing. I mean, dude did karate poses for like fifteen minutes with a look of sheer nut-crack in his face. It was one of those things where you say to yourself, “wow, that fucking really exists? That’s like a real thing? Christ” (or at least I said that to myself).

I so desperately wanted to take a picture, I had my camera out at several points in time, but listen here people, there are few places where this dude is uncomfortable.  The Gold’s Gym in Venice Beach is one of them. The best I can relate it, is that going there feels like being on special mushrooms (not that I know what that feels like, I don’t fuck with drugs, so it’s an assumption) (you should never make assumptions). I mean, for real, there are guys with veins bigger than my arms. If that’s not hallucinating, then I’m confused about a lot of shit.Anyways, I chumped out and didn’t get the picture. Missed opportunity…

So now I’ll fess up. Contrary to what I said earlier, the gentleman in the picture above is not throwing y’all the stank eye. He was actually shooting it my way. He’s feeling we’ve gotten too stagnant. We hesitated with that senile juice-head and lost the picture. That’s not something we’re apt to do. I guess I could blame it on the glass of Riff-Raff-Aide I drank to hydrate before my pump-sesh, but I don’t think that’s honest. We’ve been slacking on our adventures as of the last few weeks, and that just, I mean, it’s just, fuck, you bite it too quick for that status quo routine shit (IMHO). I might as well have been a fucking accountant (and I could never)! So fuck it, I’m making the executive decision, we’re causing ruckus ASAP. That green and blue fun box is getting the fuck out of my back-lot, and I’m a show that lil’ furry douche-bag where he can shove his furry little stank-eye.

So if you have a spot that you think would be ideal for the Van to roll to and Jam, holler back youngin’. I don’t care if it’s a barn, a field, a burnt down shack, or a bar, holler.back.youngin’.

Track for the Day: Built To Spill – “You Were Right” off of Keep it Like a Secret – Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah we keep a seeeeeeecret!

Links for the day:

North Cackalacky, miss ya.

This is Dubin on a Saturday Night, Hollywoodin’ Hard. Thanks for the tip buuuuudddddy (if you don’t know who Dubin is, you must not be important).

– Home girl looks to be a one AND she played a Jesus and Mary Chain Cover, makes for a strong ONE. Bless her heart.