Ran at sunrise so I didn’t have to after work. Stopped at Blockbuster. Wanted to rent Call of Duty. Had the urge to geek way the eff out. No available for rent. It’s available to buy used for 14 quid. Nice. Get to the counter and find out it’s 44 quid. I argue. He explains. I argue in vain. The bastard has won. I have been the victim of a Ponzi. I buy it anyway. All this arguing has made me want to shoot digital guns. Ignore my low gas meter. Play chicken with anorexic girls driving Land Rovers on the north/south streets of Beverly Hills. Shocked at how they drive like drunken hillbillys.
Thomas comes by and we spend an hour trying to figure out how to get the HDMI cables to work with my television. I watch a brutal cut sequence in 480i of a Japanese soldier putting out a cigar in an American soldier’s eye before slitting his throat. Video games are really violent. We figure out the HDMI cable. We watch the cut sequence again. It is a lot more gruesome in true 1080. We take a brief moment to discuss pretzels and why they are awesome. Give me a glass of whiskey, I’ll explain it to you gladly. The Dodger game is underway. We are taking a dump down 2-0 to the Rockies.
Head to WeHo sushi joint. Pretty sure everyone thinks Thomas and I are dating. They are wrong. We’re just bloggers. Sake. Beer. Sake. Sake. Sake. Beer. We cut it off at a Sapporo and and Sake because we have work the next day and Thomas and I are classy. Dodgers knot the game at 2-2 via an awkward balk on Ubaldo Jimenez. I think about naming my future son Ubaldo. I think about creating a Spanish version of Where’s Waldo called De Donde Esta Ubaldo. I realize there are no words in the Where’s Waldo books. Spanish version not necessary. Another one bites the dust. Don’t have enough cash for the valet. Make awkward plea to charge my card and give me additional cash back. She says we don’t do cash back, but she will charge it towards her tip. I guess you do cash back. Tuna.
Hit the V-Cut for a pin cigar and a chat with Taz. Dodger game reaches extra innings. V-Cut wants to close down. My lawyer needs me to pick up a check. It’d be good to see my lawyer as well. We are also friends. Roll to the bank, deposit checks. Head to my lawyer’s where the game goes another inning before it is getting late. High fives to my lawyer and his roommate, another lawyer, both good friends from high school. We committ to getting drinks in the near future. That might be tonight. The near future.
Charlie Steiner keeps me current. Thomas heads out, I head upstairs. I flip on the television. I call my girlfriend. She asks if the game is still going. Andre Ethier hits a homer to kill the Rockettes. Celebration ensues. A moment of joy followed by realization Andre Ethier still has not accepted my invitation to review Roscoe’s with me. CLICK HERE if you are confused to read my guest blog on LA Snark.
Basically, the dude should eat some chicken and waffles with me. This is my city. He’s just hitting home runs in it. I’ll tell him tonight at the game. Anyone else going? If so, comment me and maybe you can donate a whiskey to my cause.