Promises between scoundrels and liars.

Last Friday I swore I was gonna have something here.

Though technically, there is something here, it’s not exactly what I had in mind.

Lemme put it this way- I went to Long Beach for the Bronx show, and on the night in question, after dropping off $100.00 worth of toys for a drive that (despite the fact that it was on the flyer) the people working at the bar didn’t even know about, O Zorn Bill and I got so wasted we didn’t even catch the headliner. I am a slave to my own vices/general state of exhaustion, but I wasn’t going to let this be the end of my story in Southern California.

The following day I ended up in Silver Lake, which if you can imagine, was once a working class neighborhood just northwest of downtown, sitting smack dab between Griffith Park and Dodger Stadium. These days it’s rife with hipster douchebags, expensive boutiques, and at least one juice bar where young attractive people hang out drinking their eight dollar wheatgrass and kale smoothies while smoking American Spirit cigarettes.

Having some time to kill, I did what any normal person would do, and I began waking.

Upon doing so, I almost immediately came across a building that mesmerized me to such a degree, I had to stop and shoot a photo;

Though the computer in my pocket serves no purpose to me aside from creating a disease of a distraction that is slowly enveloping my brain, on occasion, I’m glad to have it so as to find out the history of such a place;

Come to the Sunset Pacific, where even the bedbugs have bedbugs‘.

Eventually I’d seen about all I could stand to see, and it was time to take my leave

As we drove away, I was struck with a strange and immediate feeling.

Where are we right now?” I blurted. In response, my hostess Keila said simply, “Los Feliz.”

I have a strange feeling we just drove somewhere near Danzig’s old house“, I immediately replied.

Not quite understanding how or why I would know such a thing, we immediately set about tracking down the address, and sure enough, my radar for all things short and moody was right on the money, so around we turned, and away we went until we found our prize;

I was thrilled, and my mind swam with all of the treasures I knew to be held inside.

But alas, all we could do was to stand outside, pay homage to the long gone pile of bricks, and to the distant memory of a time when the previous owner wasn’t such a nimrod.

Before we left, I did what any normal breathing human being would do, and left him an offering;

As we began our return to LB, Keila then said, “You wanna go see the Wonderland House?“ Having been a bit of a true crime buff since I was in high school, and certainly remembering when the horrors at the house took place, I said absolutely.

So that’s what we did;

All I have to say about that, is in comparison to Danzig’s house, the Wonderland house is 50,000 times creepier.

Wanting to beat the traffic home, we then skipped out and hit the road, where I got back just in time for dinner and drinks with one of the top-rated human beings in the world, Ms. Kristen Ferrell;

She and I met about 12 years ago via the internet, became fast friends, traded artwork, had a show together, and she’s been one of my favorite people ever since.

And because we’re on the topic of her, and Christmas is right around the corner, would you get the badass woman in your life (who might be you, your friend, your partner, or all three) one of these?;

I’ve been trying to get her to make them men’s sizes, because the large I got for myself doesn’t really fit;

My fingers aren’t really bendy enough to do a proper #VagLife gang sign, and on the day this photo was taken, I was told by two separate women that I have a small vagina.

While this may be true, I still have feelings.

Anyway, after a night of drinks and chats, I had to head home to hit the pillow and prepare for my return to reality.

The following day was spent dicking around a bit more before heading to the airport and killing approximately one hour doing this;

Thanks to my hosts, my friends, The Bronx, and anyone and/or anywhere else whose paths I managed to cross.

It’s with that I declare Friday’s post will be better. I totally promise, and will gladly shake on it.

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5 Responses to “Promises between scoundrels and liars.”

  1. Largo December 13, 2017 at 5:35 am #

    Don’t show me no kale unless it’s wrapped in bacon.

  2. Aaron D.C. Edge December 13, 2017 at 11:11 am #

    While in LA when my band was playing a show, my bud (our tour guide while in that crazy town) brought us by that haus, Danzig’s old crypt. My guide knew the guy across the street from the little angry man in black who told us thusly:

    “One day I came out from my pad to pick up the daily paper and saw a work crew at the end of Danzig’s driveway. I asked what they were doing, and was sure to get shooed away. To my delight, they explained that the guy who owned the old, dilapidated place was paying them to make his gate ‘squeak’ like an old horror movie.”

    Yup, for reals.

    “After spitting out my coffee and dropping my morning news in the street, I returned to my apartment across the street from our Dark Lord with a plan. I called all my buddies and informed them that there was a party at my place, that very eve (the moon was to be high and bright, very auspicious). My party, was of course, a rager because all my buds and kin knew I lived across the street from Danzig. We took selfies in front of his place constantly, as one does. I turned off the record player and instructed all to come outside and onto my lawn as soon as I saw Glen’s little black sports car come down my street. My friends were bummed as the music, and party, came to a halt. I demanded silence and we all stood out in my grass, as I directed everyone’s buzzed gaze out at Danzig’s house, his car, and him. The man held his remote out above his car and above his head, clicked it and his driveway gate opened. It opened silently, and my friend’s started to get impatient. I shushed them once more and promised that they were in for a treat. Danzig got out of his car, stomped his little black-booted hooves, screaming and cursing up a storm none of us had ever braved before. Of course, our laughing out-roared even his own vicious tantrum! He turned to us an hexed us and our unborn children. Worth it. Someone, and I think you know who, greased up Danzig’s gate nice and slippery and completely silent after the work crew had left. I just knew it’d be worth it, and it was.”

    You are welcome.

    • Colin M December 13, 2017 at 5:24 pm #

      Aaron that story is awesome.

    • tsp December 14, 2017 at 1:44 pm #

      And you’re alive to tell the tale! Good things come in packages. Well done!

  3. Ian J. Crampton December 14, 2017 at 12:16 pm #

    Urban hike!