I Never Said It Would Be Painless.

I really should stop getting drunk and buying crap on Ebay. I think the British have a word for it. It's called BLOTOED (Buying Loads Of Tat Online whilst Exceedingly Drunk or something). Lucky for me, however, the seller was quite unscrupulous, and tried to bid me up. I was far too out of it to even notice that I had been outbid. The seller offered me a second chance bid not even 5 minutes after the close of the auction. I think I may send him a note stating that I was only interested in his crap when I was completely out of my mind and under the impression that he was not a douche. Since both those condition seem to have passed I find myself totally lacking any need for tat from a douche. Something to that effect anyway.

Schadenfreude is the word that best describes my time at work recently. The petty pathetic machinations are ceaseless and amusing. Bike Boy One and Bike Boy Two (who are always ready to leave the office and engage in other lucrative work) were glued to their desks yesterday desperate to convey the impression that they may actually have a function. I understand one of them resorted to a type of begging. I would have loved to have seen that. How it will all play out is something that honestly doesn't concern me. I'm putting my 30 day notice on my bungalow today. One thing is for certain, I am going to be treated to a show of complete human desperation and supplication before I take my leave. Oh! I'm almost squeaking with excitement. And I can leave at anytime so I better have me some tears.


Not sure if someone misunderstood the intentions of someone else, but Derek and Don't Call Me Whitney Bobby share an intimate word before yesterday's debacle.

Can we talk about the debacle? Bad weather forced a change in the Yankees starting pitcher. The change came during the national anthem which is when I always find I make my most startling decisions. Ian Kennedy was told that he would pitch the game seconds before it began, and he was most likely fit to be tied. The Yankees lost 4-0 so whatever Ian did, he did it without a speckle of run support. Alberto Gonzalez was called up to replace Derek who is still recovering from his owie. Georgie is having shoulder issues, but management decided to place neither on the DL which is a shade more bright then switching pitchers during the national anthem. Instead they sent the spaz Shelley Duncan down to Triple-A Scranton where hopefully he learns not to kick other players in the nuts and whatnot.

So check this out. I recently scored (if you can call it that) a Love & Eight shirt at about a 90% discount from some McBoutique. I received it in the mail and I was a little amused at the glaring similarities to my Free City gear. And the similarity doesn't end with the labels. No, the entire aesthetic of the Love & Eight brand is one of neo-hippie rip off and duplicate. And they aren't even trying to hide it. Love & Eight is made in Venice and is available at CoOp, Revolve, Kitson, and anywhere else you can find Rogue Gallery. Free City is made in Malibu and can be found in Malibu. A boo.

OK. Snitty retail awareness moment is over, but it does bring something up. Yesterday I was at a loss as to what to do before I quit Los Angeles. Today I realize that I would like to visit the Comme des Garcons guerrilla shop down the street from my office and the Free City Supershop. Compadre, that is directed at you. Get my ass to Malibu. A boo.