Lost It Down.

Rockin' out to Luomo's Paper Tigers on the way to work. Fresh. The Santa Monica Metro Station is a mammoth submerged block of concrete which oddly always feels comforting. Perhaps because of the surveillance I'm not really sure. But Luomo certainly helps take the edge away.

Starfucks was graced with perhaps the gorgeousest German boy/man/fuck puppet I have ever come across. Of course the accent helps I won't lie about that, and I'm not sure anyone in Starcocks wanted to know that much about his vacation, but he was telling us and it was adorable.

Can't wait to see the iphone or whatever.

I'm all about Cal Ripkin. His biography is probably a masterpiece.

I'm thinking I may need to invest in a new suit and I'm thinking something in Thom Browne or Maison Margiela. Not sure. I really don't need a new suit, but they're nice to have around, and I like having the pants, and the jacket is always nice for coat check. And with all the pockets it's like a wearable purse. Mama just needs some good old fashioned retail therapy no matter how.

Since Pony bolted from the stable the d.t. lunch scene is a bit dreary. There's always the standard with a bunch of uptight tweakers, and the customers on top of that. And any number of delis and le petite bulangerie. I never have the will to even clop down to the Gas Cafe. I'm going to force myself to walk down to the Farmer's Market tomorrow cuz I need to get out while I can. LA is about to get some rain. And it could have come a little sooner for some.

The Calender for The Pasadena Civic Auditorium is confirming the dates of Morrissey's shows. Hoo effing ray! Still no seating charts so there's no way to figure out the meaning behind the three different prices for these exceptionally expensive tickets. Girls' charging almost as much as Dolly.