Friday, February 04, 2005

...el di@blo ventoso

... what are you lookin at?

2:00 a.m. in the morning and i am on top of jet studios in downtown long beach wearing bright green blast cans over my ears, welding goggles, and my ever-so-sweet unibomber style hoodie holding a nine iron while golfing beer bottles to the heavens. all the while i am smoking a copious amounts of blunty greens and yelling at traffic. how did i get here?

'tan cuidado mi hijo. el diablo estan aqui esta noche. en la calle. en el viento mi hijo. el viento del diablo.'

thats what abuelita said. she said it when it got hot and windy. she died years ago but the wind remains as a reminder of the old stories and the old ways. the devil winds are back in town and making my blood run hot and coarse.

8:00 a.m. sleeping
10:00 a.m. dreaming
10:30 a.m. pissing and feelin' fine

this morning i dreampt of playing halo and 'whack a mole' simultaniously. all that aside. today i feel funny like there is burning fire inside of me.

11:00 a.m. puking out the fire inside me, wich was just too much coffee.
12:00 noon off to go make some art for JB.

i decided to drive to the bell today instead of walk. i dont like the whole walking around with art supplies vibe. people ask to many questions. everybody loves art and they always want to ask me about it. today in particular i feel like i'll just say something poinant yet horrible. best to avoid it all together.

1:00 p.m. hit with a kite
1:23 p.m. hit with some kind of la Crosse ball. i dont know (not a jock.)
2:07 p.m. kicked off my spot by a christian tv show talking about the love of self and what-not. it is hosted by the skankiest chick i have ever seen but, that is sooo christian it makes perfect sense.
3-7:30 p.m. random computer shite.
8:00 p.m. a call to steve, my art/fabrication partner for the moment.

'hello' in a total feeble voice
'sup kid? hows tricks?'
'i'm not doing so good. i just caught my chick with another guy.'
'oh shit. need beer?'
'i dont kno....'
'be there in a while. 12er in hand'
'ok... thanks'
'no sweat pants. late.' ...click

raging hard in the car flying across the huge steel dragon i call the vincent thomas bridge. it has new blue lights on it today. they make me nervous. the car shifts slightly to the right. that fuckin wind is trying to kill me. i fly the bird out the sun roof and it leaves me alone.

i get to the studio and we shoot the shit about how much the broads suck and how an itemized list of complaints about your chick can only lead to one place. therapy. more beers later we go get herbals a few blocks away. by this time he was in better sorts, in the same way as a man with nothing to lose gets. it shows itself in a strange smile. the same one i've had all day.

'i just learned how to e-brake. wanna see?'
'sure'

after hitting a few trash cans and running the car up on to a couple traffic islands we get home and suck down a couple more tall boys and go ogle the neighbor's new fish tank and talk about how beautiful it is and how awesome smashing it would be. we leave and scheme about some upcoming money projects we have going on.

'stainless steel is like gold'
'i hope so i'm broke. let's go to a bar.'
'wich?'
'v-room?'
'awesome'

just as we get there the bartender asks about his chick. OH SHIT. i just about killed myself trying to get this kid on the right track and now one false step by a curious but not so interested bartender fucks the whole thing up. it's time to destroy something. he leaves and steals the glasses we were drinking out of, before i go i plaster the bathroom with stickers and write my name on the ceiling.

1:56 a.m. back to the studio.

'lets go up on the roof'
'lets take the stereo! fuck its windy tonight.'
'wow, it is huh? HEY ... watch this!' *crash!*