Furious Dimensions Long Forgotten.

I woke up this morning and the scurrilous & altogether disreputable Yankees management are no closer to finalizing Derek's nine figure deal than when I laid my fretful head on my Laura Ashley pillow last night. Truly divine by the way you really should grab one. I don't know how I made it through my morning regimen without breaking something or my morning commute without striking someone. The injustice seems so plain.

Halfway through my bath I had half a mind to start a letter writing campaign but this all came to nothing when I realized I was running perilously low on writing paper. However, I should be receiving a new supply of cream wove in my stocking this xmas & this should be chilling news to Brian Cashman and his oafish cronies. Chilling. This blog is but a pale shadow of what I can achieve on proper stock. Yankees management have 25 days to sort this unseemly business out. And not a single moment longer.

Wild But Not Free.

Black Friday saw me popping into Hermes and Asprey and it wasn't as bad as one would expect. Not with the throngs of people one saw on the news Friday morning. Virtual stampedes. Luckily the serenity of the Beverly Hills Hotel remained as impenetrable as it is inaccessible. After that, I shot out to the desert to finish off the weekend retiree style.

Premium Outlets at Cabazon was a mad crush of people. Most of them brought in on tour busses from the far east. Some came with rolled baggage and just filled them with marked down Burberry, Coach, etc. and were thus able to be jetted back to their place of origin. I scored some tat at Loccitane and Prada. Yes Prada. Cause I hate to say it but the heritage scene is done. Overdone and over. Need something not so you see. I'm sure you understand.

Got back to LA and caught an overpriced and overcrowded screening of The King's Speech. Not nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be. Only one real big error when they suggested Albert was pinched by his nanny when actually that was David. But I suppose it's a reasonable stretch. They careened over all the other familiar material. Lifting some scenes straight off Bertie & Elizabeth & Wallis & Edward but who's paying attention. Oh. I am. Michael Gambon played George V only after demonstrating great skill at portraying Edward VII in The Lost Prince. And if you can believe this Anthony Andrews played Stanley Baldwin. Some 25 years after portraying Edward VIII in The Woman He Loved. Fanciful or perverse? You'll have to decide.

As I mentioned it was a quite crowded flick and people lingered to see which one of their friends played some role in the production. I didn't linger because as I think you can tell, or will be able to tell, I wasn't asked to edit the script. Whatevs. Cyber Monday yo and the leftovers must be consumed.

What Transpires Beneath.

This insufferable douche sack. The one you see just above here. He is a cad! A cad. A wastrel. A lout. A dick. A cretinous goon. A flaming sack of dog shit dressed in a cheap polo. A classless boor. A rube. A poor excuse for anything with opposable digits. Heathen sacrilegious fuck.

I mean I know I've been away from baseball for a while, but this... This is nothing short of a scandal. "Daring Derek to test the free market" you say? Dodgers, Joe Torre, 5 years, $80 million I say. Cashman is living on some other planet where he is incapable of appreciating how much money Derek generates merely by his presence. I don't care what his stats are. Or how old he is. Stats are irrelevant with a player of Derek's stature, and I say player because there is only one. One Derek. The Yankees were nothing before Derek. Do the Yankees have their own chant? No. Unbelievable. Otherworldly. This world takes my breath away, and I'm fine seeing Derek in Dodger Blue. That's just fine with me. Better environment for Derek anyway. Hell, retirement works better for me than enduring such disrespect.

There will be more. Just a taste of the invective I have to hurl.

Visual Saga And Demented Fury.

Ben's Sale Sharks didn't win their match against whoever on Friday, but Ben scored another try which I think most everyone in America would call a goal or a run. I watched all the details on my mobile as I scarfed down a spicy tune bowl. It was quite exciting. It was upsetting that they didn't win, but rugby is such a complex and nuanced game. Not at all like baseball which any ogre can pick up in a trice.

Busy weekend which saw an Ikea/Target double header. Got most everything I needed to done, and now I'm all set for the Thanksgiving Day weekend show. Planning a skip over to Palm Springs with maybe a stopover in South Coast Plaza. Just a disgusting amount of consumption basically. But I guess it's just the way we live now. Pleasantness to all.

Secret Sleight Of Hand

I was like wicked mad productive last night. Got lots done. A click here a click there and voila! Bills get paid, reservations made, shopping done. It's breathless amazing. Even made it beddy bye rather early and woke up all rested for the hectic weekend.

Hot fun sexy Ben Cohen rugby action today. The Sale Sharks are playing the Saints and I have my iPhone app all ready to transmit the indecipherable details. There is a fun article on Ben located here so check it out.

So something is a little different I must confess. You probably haven't noticed yet. Have to mix it up a bit and I'm sure you'll catch on eventually, but until you do I think I'll be loading some OMD onto the iPod and trundling into the office. It's fancy dress Friday so I got straight up into the tweeds... Secrets.

When Thieves Take Flight.

News of the Royal engagement sent the Twittering world alight yesterday. Well mine anyway. I heard about it just as I rolled into the office and it dominated the air time on my radio for the rest of the day. Productivity was nil. Some of the comments in the office bordered on treason but I was not about to go all Philip Kinghorn Burbidge on anyone. Well, no more than I normally would. One always seems to be fighting the urge to backhand this miserable sack or that vacant loon, but the day is generally spent expending a considerable amount of energy trying to pretend someone is invisible.

Feeling a bit disloyal yet hardly traitorous since jumping from the Starcocks tip. And I really don't know why. While in Seattle I would seesaw between Ladro and Victrola with such frequency I often didn't know where I'd end up until I turned the corner onto 15th and saw which place had the most disagreeable heap of homeless dudes in front. Well, Coffee Bean has started to stock my Walkers Shortbread cakes and that is nothing less than a coup. Although not my even more beloved oat cakes this development has made Starbucks a bit irrelevant. And it was a bit silly overshooting my stop just to trip through the Water Court and make someone feel wanted. They really are delicious.

Lengthening Of A Curve.

Interesting podcast about Seattle on the BBC for their aptly named series Americana. I listened to it yesterday, and it talks a lot about the tension, or the troubles as I like to call it. The pale blue dot in a flaming red state. Timber town gone all biotech and green. There was a podcast on micro-black holes that I missed. Puddles.

Spans Of Time Seem Impenetrable

Gots our iTunes account all squared away and I promptly downloaded some Henryk Gorecki (not even pronounced the way it's spelled). It's quite lovely. He passed away last week and I don't imagine you heard about it if you watch CNN like the mindless carbies at my office. You flick off football for one second and the roar of outrage is deafening. This Symphony No 3 as well as the new Gorillaz album is really making things swing together a lot easier. In a way I think BBC is making me a good deal more cultured. Although I don't know what such a pompous expression could possibly mean so I guess it's just broadening my horizons so to speak. If you can manage to make heads or tails of this new iTunes you couldn't possibly do yourself any harm by checking out either Henryk Gorecki or the new Gorillaz. Accomplished and contemporary in their own way. Rest in peace dude.

Wasted All The Time I'm Going To.

Tripped through the God awful spectacle that is LA Live on my way to the Red line last night. It's all cool and shit that downtown is getting all gentrified and my friend thinks I should think of moving downtown and we're going to go tour some select properties and all, but my God!! For the father nothing. You just have to see it for yourself. Uncommonly vulgar.

I woke up this morning in a state trying to find shoes to pair with a particularly vibrant Free City hoodie and I settled on a pair that may be just a little too white for this time of the year, but then I convinced myself there was enough blue in them to make them acceptable, but a part of me is starting to think I've compromised my principles. In any event, it's a sunny day, work is a cake walk, and I can't wait to get back to my Downton Abbey tonight.

A LIfe Without No.

So the same buddy that clued me into the ever so jammin' Free City sample sale last week sent me a text yesterday, "Derek Jeter at Kate Mantilini. Thought of you", moments later he texts me the pic above, and I think this is just awesome, but why am I trapped in this office in the middle of downtown every time he be in the middle of something dope. However, I quickly shove off the chagrin, and am back with the loving LA vibe. I mean when would something like this happen to your buddy at BalMar or Canlis. Half past never I think is the most realistic answer.

I was almost thinking that all this buddy of mine does is shop and have lunch, but all I really do is work and shop so I guess it's all fair. Grabbing a bite with same after work and hoping to bump into someone oh my. I never thought of myself as much of a starfucker until now. Well maybe a few moments prior to now, but they are few and far between and it is Derek, and that is after all what the blog was all about in the day. The day before rugby hit.

In any case, glad to hear Derek is in town and I do hope he's rollin' the hills spending the gobs of money I am more than confident the Yankees management are about to tro his way. Because if they give him anything less than Wayne Rooney's recent score there will be words. Big, indignant, and maybe sardonic words and you know where you'll find them.

Until then, I'm off to the office to listen to me some football, and not the kind with the pads. That's all up in the breakroom on the TV with gaping carbies lingering about. The real action is in my ears.

From This We Appreciate All.

Not sure what this Bottom of the Ruck business is all about (still figuring out the ruck) but pretty sure it comes from the land of awesome and ooh, so by all means, if you are fortunate enough to have a moment this weekend go and investigate. Just another way in which twitter enriches my life in a way FB never could.

I have a smarmy smart alecky bully at work I may have to contend with. Always has something backhanded and what I imagine he thinks is witty to say about someone else. This, even though he rolls into the office looking like he just got dragged under a Winnebago and picked out something to wear on his way out. Had a go at my Pendleton which I admit is a little 2 or 4 years ago, but given the HVAC in my office I had to compromise. He's obviously getting over the whole military brat childhood and being the only white boy at a mostly Latino high school so I'm not sure if I should be gentle or firm. Gentle or firm? All depends really. After the Pendleton "I'm too insecure to not comment on someone else's superior style" moment I've decided to only wear things designed to inspire snippy comment. Kiss this Margeila bitch, and tell me again how many times you were pantsed at school.

Tantalizing Glimpse Of Forever.

So I finally got the freaky homeless dude who lurks in the train station in the morning fine and well trained. He no longer sprawls himself over the bench, but makes room for others which I think is the only nice and polite thing to do. But when the way too young to be having a baby couple started to change a diaper on my bench I just soon realized that I must be the type of person that this stuff happens to. Generally to the tune of Daft Punk or Gorillaz or something fly but still.

And when you unfriend someone on Facebook and they up and start following you on Twitter. Is that just freaky weird or something? And I have like 7 friends on FB so it is more than just a little weird. Oh, and the book I ordered and really wanted to be reading when I finished the book I just finished didn't arrive so now I'm into some natty trashy tale about the Anglo Saxons. I hope it gets better and less mythical.
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Not usually into anything Japanese. Especially the food and the cars, but my new obsession is this FilMelange lable. Pic above. Super soft cotton they say and given my penchant for that kinda love you know where I stand on the matter. So far only found it at Opening Ceremony and some in NYC, but who knows, maybe their stars are rising.

Moments Are Diminishing,

Pompous discourtesy pervades the workplace and I continue to thank the maker that I'm only a temp and I don't have to spend much longer with some of these people. How can you tell someone they are entirely unlikable? That every word that leaves their lips betrays something they never intended? They must notice that people stop in their tracks and walk the other way or pretend to notice something terribly interesting on the wall every time they come near? That not a single person wants to play dodgeball with them. I spend so much of my time taking a moment and considering these questions that it's a miracle I accomplish anything.

But like discourtesy in some, accomplishments in me persist. My contribution to NaNoWriMo continues apace. I get a little bit done every evening and the douche fest I dip into every day provides me just a wee bit more source material. Good for something I suppose.

Did manage to pop into the Free City sample sale once again, but it was picked over and I'm no closer to wrapping up my holiday shopping than I was. Puddles. Ah well. Los Angeles is a miraculous place and I walked some 2 miles of its streets on Saturday. Just curious you see.

Post Classy Adventure Set.

So let me break it down for you thusly. Yesterday was turning into a low rent clusterfuck. Bad news at work got even worser and worser as the day progressed, but then one of my more sympathetic correspondence forwarded me some info about a Steven Alan sample sale with a Free City sample sale as well. Confusing I know. I thought hells yeah new hoodie for me. So I put in an order, but my friend had already flew the coop with mounds of merch. Not deterred I checked my email and my inbox had all the deets.

Immediately after work I overshot my stop by three stations. Walked some 1.2 miles in the middle of Hollywood in the pitch black all the while thinking to myself the things I do for fashion. Some crack freak all swingin' his arms on Santa Monica I had to walk around. I get there and creep in suspiciously inand initially all I can find is marked down American Apparel and Wings + Horns and some checkered fug I'm sure was Gitman vintage, I mean Gitman shittage (yawn), but then my eye spots a flourish of hoodied colour and after that it is no exaggeration to say I was like a kid in a candy store. I never left the Free City racks. They had a warehouse of other junk which I imagine is fine but I was on a single minded luscious hoodie mission.

66% or more off on all the Free City gear. I thought fuck! How did this day get so good? I waded through their selections, put some stuff back, traded out the rest and when I finally handed the nice lady my piles of Free City she started to ring me up and commented. "So do you like Free City?" and I was like "I really do think so yes..."

"Should I get some Free City?" and I said "Quite obviously yes." and some girls working the other counter cheered and it was like I was plopped into a universe with people of my own sensibilities. But also thinking it really isn't made for people her size, and then she said she was from New York and I thought that must be really unfortunate to be so much closer to England yet still be so American and far from God. I put it out of my mind and hopped on the first bus back to East Hollywood. The bus was right there waiting for me which further convinced me I had done the right and proper thing.

I may go back. It's going on all weekend and they had gobs of gear. I didn't get a single tee shirt and one needs tee shirts in LA, but that's just petty rationalizing. As I was tearing through all these gorgeously soft hoodies and tees I just thought to myself that this is truly and finally the reason I left Seattle in the dust. Used bookstores and the largest REI in Christendom is fine for a certain type if you follow me, but this, THIS, is shopping therapy manna that just sets my soul alight. I have drunk the cool-aid, I'm sold, I've signed in blood, I'm buying my fast fingered friend drinks next weekend.

Gimme Some Old Time Religion.

My OG Comme des Garcons parfum arrived in the post and that lit up my evening. Although the postman has chosen to ignore my polite note and insists on cramming sale circulars in my box. I've tried to be patient and now I fear I may have to be in his face. Live and direct and some other KLF song all up in his grill.

What else? Oh yeah. Switching out the Barbour tote for the Free City number Compadre copped for me last c****s***s cause I just feel like I may wanna swing something at someone. Just a feeling. Oh, and switched the Helmut Lang sneaks for some Le Coq Sportifs since I may need to run fast and all. Lates.

Leaves One Thought Behind.

I remember something else I heard in a lecture a while back. Read it also in a book at the same time as it was sort of required and all telling me this peculiar statistic of how whenever any major party heads into a mid-term election while in control of both the executive and legislative branches they invariably lose control of at least one if not both houses of congress. It's around like 99.999something percent of the time. The science part of political science I suppose. They keep track of such data. Yet here I sit in the odd hours listening to the bbc and there are these people shrieking about how it's an unmistakeable message or mandate and whatnot.

It's not. If I understand the math correctly, it is no more fascinating than the phenomenon (also well documented) of how in the event of a plane crash people will inexplicably push down on the seatbelt latch. Even though they've been told time and again to pull up. They just can't bring themselves to do it. They always push down. Even when faced with the fire and the pain and the death (which always comes in waves) they always seem to push down.

So I held my breath hoping for a break with tradition or statistical normalcy what have you and I was disappointed. Which of course I'm quite used to. One thing is for certain. I really like the neighborhood by my polling station. I think I know where I might likes to move once the new year rolls around. Everybody is Lost. But they're pretending they're not... Lost.

It Is All About The Branding You Realize. Nothing More.

Last night I watched a couple of documentaries. One on Anne Boleyn and one on What Happened Before the Big Bang. Mind scrambles both of them. I've been sans TV since leaving Seattle and shopping for one ever since. I have a Target gift card with its name written all over it, but I thought I'd wait until after elections in any case.

Fancy, all that money spent. Between 4 and 5 billion some say, and I haven't seen a single political ad. And here I am off to the polls after work and I haven't the benefit of these studied missives. My first vote in the state of California and I'm just going to have to go off my wits and conscience. Still not sure of which way I'll swing on Prop 19. I know I always vote "no" on every proposition out of principle. The Republic just wasn't built to work that way I hear. I mean I read somewhere. Over and over and over again, and back we land on my conscience.

I really hope it's not as bad as everyone says. I mean with those ghastly tea-partiers. Islamaphobes mostly, but not entirely I gather? Just stoutly supported by, but not all. Made up primarily of right wing religious fringe groups too, but not totally, just really vocal about the apocalypse associated with having a black president. Bigots no, but they really sound like they are, and with all those pictures of the Hitler mustaches. Even without a television you are bombarded with so many mixed messages. None any more coherent than the other. If only Rachel Maddow were around to dismissively and obliquely explain things to me. I hear she doesn't watch TV either.

When Your Hopes Turn Plastic.

Where a lot of people this time of year are thinking of cozying up to their favorite winter root vegetable stew here in LA we are looking at a week of upper 80s and lower 90s weather making me just go "Oh Heavens" with the vapors.

Last night I was just a ferocious mess in the kitchen and I whipped up a heaping batch of Julia's famous Vichyssoise (chilled potato leek soup). This has been one of my favorite go to recipes since moving south because of its ease and simplicity. Although the price of leeks is getting near ruinous they were my only indulgence at the grocery death match yesterday. You can peruse the recipe here and I think you'll agree nothing could be simpler. Maybe keep it in your back pocket until next summer.
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Bennie and the Sharks didn't win their match against the London Irish yesterday, but they gave it their all and Bennie scored the second try. I'm still trying to figure out what it all really means. Penalties and conversions mostly. I know about getting the ball to your side of the pitch. One good thing about rugby as opposed to baseball is that there isn't a match day after day after day. You can actually do other things. Haven't found any pics of the match yet, but as soon as I do you know where they'll be.