Hello to you dear reader. Yes, you specifically. Is it hot in here or is it just me?
Well, I know you're so anxious to read this that you're not even going to point out my misspelled words.
So I'm back in the spikey asphalt busom of Los Angeles once again. If I didn't get to cross your path, break bread with you, or just let you get me drunk and take advantage of me while I was in Australia, please PLEASE accept my sincere apologies. I actually stayed 3 days past my actual flight because I am a Seppo turd-brain and. They were however a very productive three extra days. Days that allowed me to live out my life-long dream of following a band around and living the life of a groupie. I didn't put out for any of the boys in the band or even any of the roadies. Although Shrimp did provide a good 8-9 inches of temptation, but I managed, fought it off (the temptation not the actual penis) and I emerged unscathed. Thanks to Dallas Crane for letting me freeload like a bloated American fun blister on the ass of Rock & Roll. It twaz indeed memorable and refreshing and very, very free. I must say for the record that I really did feel more like a band-aide than a groupie.
The Snazziest girl I know is probably going to read this so I should say how much I adore her and I should apologize in advance for any embarassment that her being associated with a dufus of my caliber is likely to cause.
It's odd to be back in La La Land, The City of Angels Hell-A, The No-Karma Zone, Hollyweird, The place where people are mean and selfish and all drive a much cooler car than you do. In fact, I don't even have posession of my car yet. I didn't feel up to driving today due to my massive jet lag. Or, as the Spaniards call it El Lago Gigante del Jetado. Yes, my Spanish is still as razor-sharp as ever.
So car-less as I am, I've had to stay fairly local. Blake was kind enough to take me for coffee** Tomorrow the one known as Hammer will graciously drive me to my Cruddy Auto-Stallion. See, already I have the crap car anxiety and I've only been back for barely two days. Next I must start binging and purging and decide whether to have my lips injected with collegen, my eyes injected with botchalism or just splurge on those buttock implants that I've have my heart set on.
Oh, LA, what wacky hijinks - a.k.a. crushing disappointment and ennui do you have in store for me? Perhaps my time abroad has taught me more than just some colorful Aussie Slang.
Well, my beloved little Freckle Dick and Ass Breath are both giving me that special look that says "We need to go choke a darkie, doggy-style." So, I must be off now, but please, gentle blog browser, know that as I walk into the crisp Angeleno night air to scoop up dog excrement it is you and you alone that shall linger in my thoughts. Yes, you specifically.
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6 comments:
Welcome home Kranki.
For you to get buttock implants would be an aesthetic crime against one of Mother Nature's most perfect creations.
Best of luck with the hijinx and/or ennui.
Choke a darkie is in fact, Bucky, a time honoured 100% Australian phrase. Oh oft were the times my grandmother would blushingly excuse herself from a high tea by uttering those very words.
I don't usually mention the funny word verification but this time it must be said that it's "fcginoff". No shit.
i'm a little suspicious. my daughter and you were never in the same country at the same time. when she was in la, you were in melbourne. there's something strange about that.
could it be? are you... is there something you need to tell me?
... are you my princess?
surely i would have noticed something strange, perhaps about her facial hair or something.
When's your next trip to Australia going to be, then?
Did you get my email, you hunk of spunk?
Fluffy: Good god. I've never heard it before in my life. But I grew up in the bush. Its origins are clearly from amongst the more genteel urban classes.
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