Feeling Even Less Tangible.

G Wagon boys always seem to be stepping into it. Inspired really. Yesterday it was at Hollywood Vine & once again we have to just have to say what is was. A shit storm.

From what I could gather while holding onto a bag of Trader Joe's insta-food in one hand and desperately trying to capture images on the more than useless iPhone image capture feature in the other is that the G Wagon boys nudged (ever so imperceptibly) this white boy's ancient Toyota pick-up.

G Wagon boys were like "Come on Prol. We could have rode over your common white boy dread locked ass but we didn't. Move along before we taze you with our Bottega Veneta."

White boy with the dread locks was having none of it & was having it out with them right there on Hollywood Boulevard in front of God & everybody when someone else in a bad ass conversion van (you know the kind with the ladder on the back door) rolls up & tells the white boy to let it go & then they get into it & the G Wagon boys are all "Yo, let's bounce out of this shit that's disrupting the joyousness of our amazingness." & they bail.

Conversion van wheels off after telling white boy to get lost, and white boy runs, flat out runs, down Hollywood Boulevard and climbs up the step ladder of this van as it's moving and I could swear I was in the middle of a Stephen Segal movie. I may have never come closer to dropping to my knees and praying for guidance in my life, but we succeeded eventually in not getting completely hysterical.

The crowd was nonsense. They were acting like the common rabble come to Hollywood for the weekend that their well-fed asses were so I rather wisely decided to take my groceries and scoot.

Good to be back home. Haven't even gotten to "The Murder On The Red Line" story which I hate to say this because someone did actually die, but I just love the way it rolls off the tongue.