There Is Space And There Is Tech.

Yeah. Unavoidable really, but I all up and skipped to Amoeba Records and picked me up my copy of Season 1 Downton Abbey after work. Total shit storm a brewin' but upon reflection on the contents of my inbox this morning I think it was all for the best. And I think I may have to just start a Maggie Smith fan club because she is the greatest. Greatest. Feast of the senses. Impeccable lady and if you only know her from the Harry Potter films you don't know much about her. The Prime of Miss Jean Brody for example is an earlier masterstroke but one she effortlessly surpasses on many occasions.
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Not all happiness and love though. Getting a cup of coffee in Los Angeles is akin to getting a tan in Seattle. Two times I had to march myself back to this rathole of a Starcocks and tell them what they did wrong. Old School means extra ice not extra sweetener, no Old School means extra ice & no need for sweetener. It wouldn't have been so ridiculous if they themselves hadn't worked themselves up into such a frothy lather instructing me on the "proper" way to order my drink of choice only to fuck it up twice. Getting all pissy and shit in the process.

Own fault really. There is a perfectly good Barista in reception that will whip up anything I want for free. Tips suggested but in no way required, but of course I will, so why the Hell I'm throwing good money after bad at the Devil in Trademarked Green is anyone's guess.

Downton Abbey. Watch it. Love it. Be it.