pissed off christoff

this is what happens...

2012-02-09T23:40:00.000-08:00

when you're dumb.

don't be dumb.

LA County OKs $1,000 Fine For Throwing Football, Frisbee On Beaches « CBS Los Angeles

2012-02-08T21:10:00.000-08:00

Ridiculous...

LA County OKs $1,000 Fine For Throwing Football, Frisbee On Beaches « CBS Los Angeles

Translating Military Experience to Civilian Terms

2012-02-04T12:23:00.000-08:00

my new one from www.militarywallet.com

http://themilitarywallet.com/translate-military-experience-to-civilian-terms/

Guns.com article: Review: The S&W M&P15 Defies Common Expectations

2012-02-02T23:26:00.000-08:00

Guns.com article: Review: The S&W M&P15 Defies Common Expectations

**Check Out My New Piece On The Modern AR-15!**

Smith & Wesson M&P15 w/10rd plugged magazine

putting a few rds down range

Filmmaker Oliver Stone would vote for Ron Paul over President Obama - The Hill's Blog Briefing Room

2012-01-24T09:26:00.000-08:00

Filmmaker Oliver Stone would vote for Ron Paul over President Obama - The Hill's Blog Briefing Room

Going Ape

2012-01-09T14:08:00.001-08:00

Compound security @ it's best.

Castle Doctrine

2012-01-02T13:57:00.001-08:00

Interesting case of the new "Castle Doctrine," in effect.

http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/11361/1199563-100.stm

new years day 2012

2012-01-01T21:20:00.000-08:00

despite the jackassery that's plagued my old haunts, some places manage to survive.

shared the first day of 2012 with my babe.

and the babes.

FADE IN:

EXT. JAPS COVE -- DAY

Los Angeles is Burning

2012-01-01T09:00:00.001-08:00

http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/lanow/2011/12/police-brace-for-more-la-arson-fires-on-new-years-eve-night.html

San Pedro, California...

2011-12-31T00:55:00.000-08:00

...has gone to shit. Literally. Crap everywhere.

Dog; Cat; Bird; and yes, even Homo Sapiens

Oh, and don't forget the dopers.

Please dear Jesus, do not forget to mention the dopers;

And ceritfied Felons;

Hot damn those Felons got swagger.

Kiddie-rapers too;

Attempted murderers;

we shunt forget the ubiquitous neighborhood drunk;

two tanked lovers;

and a partridge and a pear tree...

-- All residing on my block.

-- All stutter-stepping, drunk as skunks, emboldened.

And illiterate kids, smoking weed in the canyons, setting refuse ablaze behind my house.

It's as if the lone neighbor and I are besieged by a crumbling society on the edge of martial law.

The vampires creeping in, waiting for eternal dark.

A local tweaker parked his jalopy in the driveway today -- blocked the neighbor in.

So I went down, confrontation in my sights. 'Twas near midnight, but no avail.

Nobody answered.

Nobody gave a good goddamn.

Figure he and the tribe were in the nod, enjoying Big H.

Anyways, there's trouble brewing.

I can smell it.

Feel it.

Rumblings of Nasiriyah -- just before we rolled in, the sky gray and quiet.

Wet.

Men, Women, Children, peeking from windows -- confused, scared, just wanting it to go away.

"Go away...go away...go away" (sotto voce).

Folks who wax poetically about good ole' Pedro, might want to visit good ole' Pedro once in a while.

Just on a random day.

Alone.

Alone on the many streets below Western Ave, where the peasants and prisoners spread out like water on litmus paper -- metastasizing rapidly, leaving broken windows, abandoned cars, semen-filled magnums ripped off with wanton abandon -- pooches nearly noshing the aforementioned 'nad nectar.

it's an eerie sight, dear readers.

as if the men, women, children are peeking, lurking behind computers screens, hoping to dear God,

the Outside doesn't come Inside

@ least not now.

@ least not yet.

I know there's better...

people;

places;

faces;

and pooches (the San Pedro pit bulls -- chained and frothing against chain-linked fences. Blue-eyed beasts with vacant eyes -- a bizarre mirror -- sociopathic owners bestowing prison pathos to their beloved curs and kids).

But I know...I have visited. There's still good country out there.

America.

long unbroken vistas -- a house there, horse corral here, shooting range snugged up against a granite mountain.

-- smiling and humble.

But not here -- no, no, no, not California.

Give it to Calderon, I say.

We're just visiting Sir, like most Angelinos.

Waiting, saving, and hoping for the best.

Nevertheless, I'll state it now -- get it documented and such.

one of us will be hurt.

December 31, 2011

0121.

Not sure who, but one of us.

me, her, the pooches.

LAPD Harbor Division knows about the stolen USMC flag.

the petty crime and disjointed derelicts.

tettering on the edge, waiting for opportunity.

"Such a shame," the Police Officer said. "People will steal anything nowadays."

"Yes," I said. "They will."

There was a slight pause, an exhale.

And I hung up.

Christmas 2011

2011-12-27T08:53:00.001-08:00

Well it's been an interesting one for sure. Started off with a bang, reinforcing my belief San Pedro, CA has moved on to harder drugs -- the good old days of drive-by eggings and TP tapestry evolving -- replaced by the town drunk pissing on my trash can, local degenerates thieving a Marine Corps flag off my porch, and the ever-present police chopper alighting the neighborhood, searching for car-jackers, suspected hit men, and you know, you're run of the mill Los Angelino. The flag was never returned. The police couldn't give two shits. And I suppose the ghetto bird simply reacts to it's environment.

Nevertheless, Annika and I managed to push out some good times w/friends & family. Had a so-called "Ugly Sweater Party." The GF modeled some snazy duds, and I even snagged a new gig. Ellroy's sporting a cutting-edge sweater, and Annabelle...well...Annabelle is eating her tail.

Alrighty, it's SEO blogs/military financial advice time. New years a' coming...and if you're one of the punk who stole my flag...

they drew first blood...

Annika on the catwalk

starbucks crew @ the compound -- they're special like that...

Xmas time w/the pups

Ellroy con Hoodie

2011-12-26T23:17:00.001-08:00

Care of my old buddy Andy.

Guns.com article: Dear Santa: I want a Springfield Armory’s M21 Tactical

2011-12-23T11:49:00.000-08:00

i know, i know -- i'll shoot my eye out...

but take a peek @ my recent article for www.guns.com.

Vietnam-era rifles, reindeer, and a brazen fatwah issued against Saint Nick.

Guns.com article: Dear Santa: I want a Springfield Armory’s M21 Tactical

Man Eats Cocaine From Brother's Butt, Dies - Greenville News Story - WYFF Greenville

2011-12-20T14:00:00.000-08:00

Man Eats Cocaine From Brother's Butt, Dies - Greenville News Story - WYFF Greenville

Yum...

the MILITARY WALLET

2011-12-19T20:24:00.000-08:00

well, i've been lucky enough to recently join the team over @ the Military Wallet.

great website with a ton of valuable info for members of the Armed Forces.

check it out!

here's the first article of a ten part series i'll be scribing.

take a gander:

http://themilitarywallet.com/military-to-civilian-transition/

Timeline 2002-2011: Notable events in Iraq - Iraq's Challenge - Al Jazeera English

2011-12-15T08:27:00.000-08:00

Timeline 2002-2011: Notable events in Iraq - Iraq's Challenge - Al Jazeera English

In Over Your Head? Bankruptcy Options for Service Members

2011-12-14T13:16:00.000-08:00

let us hope it never comes to this.

but just in case, read my new one from Military Banking Rates.

http://www.militarybankingrates.com/loans/bankruptcy-options-for-service-members/

same old song

2011-12-14T11:28:00.001-08:00

not sure what it is, but i've urge.

it's more like a compulsion.

not like one of those -- wash my hands 346 times a day, pull out my eyelashes on the regular, or any of that boring crap.

and i can't really explain it, perhaps it deals with my time in the desert.

those years.

nights, days, watching a red, red sunrise and the cold morning steaming up, drying the sand, and lizards sunning and tortoise roaming.

i dunno.

but i can remember Kuwati morns -- all that sand and desolation.

straight outa Lawrence of Arabia.

but that's not really the desert i dig.

i like that California/Arizona/New Mexico desert.

the Salton Sea and Niland.

outskirts of the Grand Canyon and Albuquerque.

with the wayward retirees and lanky dogs on porches.

wide, way open spaces alone.

mountain ranges with hidden springs, cattails and a few errant tires.

shotgun shells cracking in the sun.

bones of some lost goat or sheep, white with giant warrior ants on patrol.

strange how most people call that hell.

most everyone i know.

you gotta be careful out there -- sexual sadists and pedo's like the anonymity.

but mostly old folks, heating up their bones.

although you'll run into a few Vets -- ancient with nothing to prove, content in the warm sun, a pistol on their hip, pooch on porch, and a baked chicken dinner.

strange world, lots of nooks and crannies.

the good ole desert...

Boost Your Budget: Guide to Re-enlistment Bonuses

2011-12-13T20:20:00.000-08:00

So you wanna re-enlist?

I feel ya.

Check out my latest from www.militarybankingrates.com

http://www.militarybankingrates.com/boost-your-budget-guide-to-re-enlistment-bonuses/

Robbing Ultimate Fighting Expert Proves To Be Bad Decision « CBS Chicago

2011-12-05T23:26:00.000-08:00

Robbing Ultimate Fighting Expert Proves To Be Bad Decision « CBS Chicago

moral of the story: just because you think you're a badass little vato, doesn't mean you're a badass little vato...

A janky Christmas

2011-12-02T21:46:00.001-08:00

With a wee bit o' Dios de Muerta.
But we sure make it work.

Guns.com article: Machine Gun Mounted Humvees: An Icon of Modern Warfare

2011-11-29T20:15:00.000-08:00

love machine-gun mounted Hummers?

i know i sure do...

read on!

Guns.com article: Machine Gun Mounted Humvees: An Icon of Modern Warfare

Navy-Marine Corps Relief Society

2011-11-15T12:03:00.000-08:00

another one from www.militarybankingrates.com.

writing it, i even found a program that applies to me...

very cool.

definitely suggest any Active-Duty/Vets in "need," check it out:

http://www.militarybankingrates.com/loans/benefits-navy-marine-corps-relief-society/#more-540642

TAP

2011-11-02T21:52:00.000-07:00

care of pissedoff christoff -- the military's Transition Assistance Program aka TAP.

lotsa new bennies for the guys and gals in uniform.

check it out:

http://www.militarybankingrates.com/transitional-assistance-program-tap/#more-508392

putting things in perspective

2011-11-02T21:15:00.000-07:00

from NASA, up in the heavens, where things seems to matter very little in the big picture.

but in the moment, that's where it does...

pumpkin go BOOM!

2011-10-26T23:41:00.000-07:00

just a little preview of halloween, www.guns.com, style.

and yes, you're correct to denote i look a tad...douchey.

we all have our days in the Barstow desert, que no?

stay tuned for an article!

left to right: 8mm; 5.56; .45ACP; 12 gauge slug

why yes, i do look rather douchy

Suspect Arrested For Murdering 18-Year-Old With Hatchet « CBS Baltimore

2011-10-21T12:24:00.000-07:00

um...apparently my hillbilly doppleganer is a hatchet murderer...

Suspect Arrested For Murdering 18-Year-Old With Hatchet « CBS Baltimore

greatgatsbygame.com

2011-10-20T01:41:00.000-07:00

for the unemployed English majors out there, here ya go:

www.greatgatsbygame.com

beyond the battlefield

2011-10-18T22:11:00.000-07:00

so i've been reading these articles on the huffingtonpost.com -- "beyond the battlefield."

little tales of severely wounded Veterans.

and i'm talking SEVERELY wounded Veterans.

it's a bit sad.

a bit inspiring.

a bit ugly.

and a big reality-check.

-- goddamn, i was lucky...

readers leave comments, running the gamut from "god bless these heroes," to "well, they signed up, what did they expect?"

gives me some insight to the human condition.

to how this country works.

and when it comes down to it, as a warrior -- as a Veteran, it's best to get over this shit ASAP.unfortunate, but true.

grab as much VA disability as possible.

get your education on the government's dime.

never expect a fucking thing from your fellow citizen without paying for it.

because there's very little altruism out there.

someone's always selling something -- politics, t-shirts, fancy bracelets...

aside from your fellow Veteran, it's safe to say, one must remain skeptical at all times.

be aware of agendas.

because once these wars are over, you'll be forgotten.

and in ten years from now, you'll be a punch-line to some joke.

anyways, god bless these wounded warriors.

i know it's gotta be hard.

hope they find peace in this fucked up world, maybe even some happiness...

U.S. deaths in drone strike due to miscommunication, report says

2011-10-15T00:44:00.000-07:00

something that pisses me off.

a goddamn "unmanned" drone kills a Marine and Navy Corpsman.

"unmanned," my ass.

but what's worse, the Marine killed was on his fourth tour.

FOURTH.

now, i'm all about demonizing these Wall Street shysters -- but there's something intrinsically wrong with a country, when you've got troopers serving four tours in a shit stew war-zone,

and you've kids the same age (he was 26) sitting on Wall Street bitching about their college loans, dressed in teddy-bear get-ups, getting more nationwide attention/adoration.

this country...huh.

i'm over it.

U.S. deaths in drone strike due to miscommunication, report says

(K.I.A. Marine Staff Sgt. Jeremy Smith)

Tips for Veteran First Time Home Buyers

2011-10-14T01:06:00.000-07:00

as i nurse the ole' back, here's another one from pissed-off christoff...

http://www.militarybankingrates.com/mortgages/tips-veteran-first-time-home-buyers/

brisk night in the village

2011-10-11T00:34:00.000-07:00

English Village, that is.

@ Loyola Marymount University.

Gloria Calderon Kellett, Mike Vukadinovich, Tyler McClain, and I, spoke to the undergrad populace.

mostly about graduate school and living/working as a playwright/screenwriter in the "real world."

Kelly Younger moderated.

tried my best not to look pissed off. (the Corps hasn't hit the road just yet)

and it went pretty well.

managed to have a few laughs, met some interesting folks, and saw some old comrades including Linda Bannister -- who introduced me to live theatre/playwrighting.

had Annika by my side...looking quite sexy.

so it was a good night.

(my excited face)

(moderator and professor Kelly Younger)

(Kelly, who made it happen)

(bright-eyed English/Theatre majors filtering in)

(and the panel: me; Tyler; Mike; Gloria)

(the crowd)

(gracious hosts and soon-to-be graduates)

Playwrights at Play, Oct. 10

2011-10-05T17:51:00.000-07:00

come see me and fellow dramatists @ Loyola Marymount University, next Monday, October 10th -- around 7pm. i'll give a little talk about my career, the future, and my work.

should be fun.

*many thanks to Kelly Younger and Gianluca Keeler for making it happen *

Guns.com article: Mario “Motts” Tonelli: Football Star, Bataan Death March Survivor

2011-09-28T15:46:00.000-07:00

I was fortunate enough to be pulled into a project regarding Mario "Motts" Tonelli.

WWII Vet; Bataan Death March Survivor; NFL Star; and one hell of an American.

Read on:

Guns.com article: Mario “Motts” Tonelli: Football Star, Bataan Death March Survivor

@ the Norton-Simon Museum

2011-09-26T17:59:00.000-07:00

i saw this, and it spoke to me.

well not really, but i liked it.

guess things never really change...

Horace Vernet

1818

Soldier on the Field of Battle (Waterloo)

Guns.com article: The Marine Corps Martial Arts Program: CQB and Weapons of Opportunity

2011-09-23T23:43:00.000-07:00

step 1: get a rifle.

step 2: jab rifle into assailant's eye socket.

step 3: repeat step 2.

Guns.com article: The Marine Corps Martial Arts Program: CQB and Weapons of Opportunity

Debt Solutions For Veterans

2011-09-15T17:24:00.000-07:00

enveloped by debt?

student loans keeping you up @ night?

my article just might help ya get those 40 winks:

debt solutions for veterans

Guide to Saving on Veteran-Friendly Franchises

2011-09-06T17:57:00.000-07:00

check out my new article!

Guide to Saving on Veteran-Friendly Franchises

Guns.com article: What They're Carrying Over There: Machine guns

2011-08-26T13:56:00.000-07:00

check out my new article for guns.com!

it's a dandy.

Guns.com article: What They're Carrying Over There: Machine guns

(guess who?)

great article from guns.com

2011-08-25T17:19:00.000-07:00

on the heels of the Crossroads of the West gun show,

this guns.com article nails it.

and i actually lol'd.

http://www.guns.com/training-daze-the-reality-of-tactical-training-for-the-modern-man.html

hell-roy

2011-08-17T20:38:00.000-07:00

being bad.

How to Find a Civilian Job After You’ve Served

2011-08-16T13:36:00.000-07:00

want to know more?

'course ya do.

check out my new article @ www.militarybankingrates.com

annabelle took a nap

2011-08-13T21:55:00.000-07:00

and so did i...

Guns.com article: What They're Carrying (Over There): Assault Rifles

2011-08-11T18:31:00.000-07:00

check out my new article:

Guns.com article: What They're Carrying (Over There): Assault Rifles

guns.com

2011-08-04T16:37:00.000-07:00

gotta a very fun gig @ www.guns.com, writing on military/tactical issues.

if you get some time, check 'er out.

CLICK HERE

my new gig

2011-08-02T17:06:00.000-07:00

writing for MilitaryBankingRates.com.

check it out!

http://www.militarybankingrates.com/articles/what-you-should-know-about-the-g-i-bill-2-0/#more-430947

San Pedro, California

2011-08-02T00:12:00.000-07:00

Notorious: The Infamous History of the Port of Los Angeles - Full Version from Marie Hegwood on Vimeo.

GI BILL 2.0

2011-07-31T03:04:00.000-07:00

so i've been researching financial issues pertinent to the military/Veterans for a recent gig i was hired on for. and i'm just freaking floored -- no, freaking flabbergasted, @ all the bennies returning trigger-pullers are granted.

just amazing.

and duly earned.

if you're a Vet thinking about nerding out @ a local public university -- DO IT.

check it out:

www.newgibill.org

on a side note: TSA buffoonery

2011-07-28T20:35:00.000-07:00

despite being roused by a cancerous old crone and an obese jerry-curl-clad thug in uniform, during my SECOND full body scan last week, i managed not to be thrown in jail.

go figure...

but if you're in the TSA, please consider suicide.

God bless,

Christoff

http://www.humblelibertarian.com/2011/06/10-of-tsas-worst-actions.html

Chi-town: business y pleasure

2011-07-27T14:15:00.000-07:00

gigged up in Chicago (thanks to OITB alum Clint Van Winkle) researching a genuine WWII hero named Mario "Motts" Tonelli (details to come). fortunately i was able to amble about and take in the sights. despite the hellish heat the first day, Chicago proved to be a great place. beautiful city abound with art and the deep dish. here's an excerpt from my journal.

in chicago in july. hot. damn hot and steaming. need a rag to swab up the sweat dripping off my forehead. feel like my old man. genetics, go figure. "get botox," someone said. stops the sweat. and i just might because i'm current;y sitting inside Descartes Coffee House on michigan ave. and it's cold, cold inside but the salty excretions are spicing up my latte. not good. nevertheless i'm hitting up the Chicago Art Institute in a few. Monet's; Picasso's; Hopper's; and John Singer Sargent's. and i'm not ashamed to say i still dig the Impressionists, either. but i can clearly remember being a pissed off Marine back in the early days and dreaming of seeing these masterpieces in person. a kinda of personal promise. and now...holy shit, i found a way. on business at that. from what i can remember they got Edward Hopper's "Nighthawks," that famous noir piece set @ a corner diner. skeletal fry cook, alluring redhead, fedora festooned fellow. matter of fact, as i write this, the synapsis in my brain housing group have reconnected and i clearly recollect how "Nighthawks," influenced this dumb kid in 2001. so there's the redhead. she's with the fellow. they're sitting at the counter, ordering. a redhead. and in 2001 i found myself strapped to the tattooist's chair getting a redheaded pinup gal on my forearm. lacking class, i know, but whaddya gonna do -- i was a dumb kid and it was 2001.

some pix to whet your whistle. captions coming soon.

@ the Egyptian

2011-07-14T20:34:00.000-07:00

had a nice little night yesterday.

went to Hollywood.

"get some," played @ the Egyptian Theatre.

A and I went to Canter's Deli.

shared a pastrami on rye.

-- mazto ball soup on the side.

and it was good.

outside the classic Egyptian

--enter here --

some cool hollywood hieroglyphs

looked amazing inside

talented director of "get some," Christine Berg (center)

the cutie and i

walk on the wildside

2011-07-12T00:42:00.000-07:00

downtown L.A.

Echo Park.

sidewalks plagued by gum -- the pox; juicy fruit gone bad.

real bad.

taco bell wrappers -- greased up, blowing effortlessly, lost.

the girls -- they push their infants.

the boys are angry, searching for confrontation.

curb-side emporiums hawk faux fixings.

gucci and hello kitty blankets.

"it's like Tijuana," i say. "without the cripples and prostitutes."

maybe i just can't see 'em.

a lady crosses westlake blvd.

sporting a white tube-top and saggers.

she's on the "nod," wandering back and forth between the white lines.

cradling something -- @ first glance it's hard to see.

"she's got an iguana," Annika says.

"a fucking iguana?" i say.

she's right.

this tube-topped gal is tramping around with a giant reptile.

real green too.

splayed out -- it's tiny toes wriggle, desperately seeking solid ground.

but we have to turn, Langer's is close.

got good sangwiches.

pastrami-type.

so we spot it. right on the corner.

big christmas green, white script; cursive.

sign says to park in the rear.

my instinct says don't.

my instinct says bad juju.

the pedestrians filter past us as we decide.

do we park? do we go inside and have some sangwiches -- pastrami-type?

i see an African-American chap fit out in a wife-beater.

or v-neck.

but that's not the crux.

the crux is, he's mad. talking-to-himself-mad.

follow him with my eyes, periphery vision taking hold.

something i honed @ MCRD.

-- Marine Corps Recruit Depot.

matter of fact, this guy -- angry African-American male, looks like one of my D.I.'s.

he was a mean sonofabitch.

alcoholic too.

i hope he got help.

i'm straying -- Annika and I are rolling deep in the corolla, about to turn, dodging errant passersby, blasting Lou Reed, my hand clutching a little league aluminum slugger, hidden in the back seat.

"let's just go," i say.

a moment of hesitation -- juicy pastrami on our minds and...

we merge onto the 110 south.

back home to Pedro.

heartbeat steadies, the breathing becomes rhythmic and stethoscope ready.

i put the bat down and think about pastrami.

"Get Some," @ the Egyptian Theatre July 13th, 7:30pm

2011-07-09T17:16:00.000-07:00

just in -- short flick i wrote @ USC has it's U.S. premiere next week via American Cinematheque!!

details:

'Come celebrate a wide variety of comedy, drama, animation and live-action shorts from Los Angeles-based directors @ The Egyptian Theatre. Included is one of the last USC financed films shot on 16mm -GET SOME directed by Christine Berg. We would love to see you there as this is our official U.S. premiere!'

you oughta check it out.

toss back a few drinks and say hello.

tix can be purchased here:

http://www.americancinemathequecalendar.com/content/local-shorts

suspended animation: the Salton Sea

2011-07-08T00:28:00.000-07:00

been awhile, yeah?

and to be honest, i was resigned to kill off 'pissedoff christoff."

another blog cut short, some floating record -- suspended animation of one man's life, awash in a digital wasteland.

that's deep, huh?

but i figured, what the hell...

if anything, it's great lube for script writing.

we took a trip.

road trip to the Salton Sea -- some 20 miles north of the US/Mexican border.

another wasteland of sorts -- a misanthropic sanctuary replete with endless stretches of barren desert.

post-apocalyptic in every way.

and there's a town out there with living breathing men and women.

they call it Bombay Beach and if you drive fifteen miles down the CA-111, you'll hit Niland.

another town.

only not so..."mad max-ish."

nevertheless, take a left -- the first one you find, and you'll run into Leonard.

Mr. Night has a mountain out there.

been dubbed, "Salvation Mountain."

topographical folk art ( just check out the pix in the previous blog entry)

adjacent to Leonard's mountain is "Slab City."

abandoned Marine Corps base -- only thing left -- you guessed it, slabs.

concrete slabs.

and there's an eclectic and sometime nefarious group of squatters that bivouac in the vicinity.

got their own golf course, too.

but back to Salton Sea.

it stinks.

stinks bad.

like an aquarium gone wrong -- algae slimmed shores composed of a 342-million morsels of desiccated fish.

tilapia, to be exact.

they die off in droves.

thousands wash ashore everyday.

many dying, flopping around helpless on the shores.

and although the place is in disrepair, and the people are different, it'd be easy to mock them.

to insult them.

to belittle them.

but they're a unique breed.

rara-avis'.

people who inspire story.

who defy the norm and don't give a good goddamn what you or i think.

despite the desolation; the iraqi-like heat; the goddamn stench -- i actually dug it.

might even drop by and say hello in the future.

salton sea. 2011

2011-06-28T19:52:00.000-07:00

and it begins...

1950s coastal villa, Bombay Beach

int. house

ext. house

uhh...door frame

someone lived here once

ellroy & the evil sea spirits

ellroy, happy

just floating there

Leonard's passion

and his mountain

made of paint

and hay and trophies

and the Bible

atop

God is Love

and the man, Leonard Night

A & E on the beach

don't drink the water

dead fishes

lil' closer

the sand, it's made outa their bones

they kiss.

fade out

The Things That Carried Him

2011-05-09T16:36:00.000-07:00

by Chris Jones, and it was very good.
and a very good way to end this blog.

The Things That Carried Him

100 arrested after LAPD, DEA raid gangs for firearms, drugs - The Daily Breeze

2011-04-28T10:54:00.000-07:00

100 arrested after LAPD, DEA raid gangs for firearms, drugs - The Daily Breeze

my suspicions confirmed.

Several Suspects Arrested in SoCal Raid: MyFoxLA.com

ellroy, the craprobat

2011-04-20T16:57:00.000-07:00

he is indeed, dropping a duece.

and i've no clue why.

kel-tec's

2011-04-14T00:03:00.000-07:00

been impressing me as of late.
especially with this one...

@ rest

2011-04-13T16:40:00.000-07:00

been beating a dead horse for several years now.

- the War.

- the Marines.

as if i were still an integral piece of the puzzle.

a cog in the wheel of international relations.

stems from my writing, i know this.

these are things i just know.

struggling to remember, to document, to create.

alas, there comes a time when a Marine's gotta drop his pack.

i'll spare ya the many apt metaphors, but ya gotta just put the whole damn thing to rest.

remember those years of boozing and brawling and globe-trotting, with a fondness only time can present.

otherwise ya might just end up a joke.

a punch-line to some skit on SNL;

a one-beat character on Gray's Anatomy

- choking out the lil' lady, spooning gone terribly wrong.

hoarding spilt-peas and bullets;

trip-wires in the backyard;

begrudging every last civilian who didn't serve.

so it's rest.

night-nights.

- the War.

- the Marines.

a piece of time that defined;

that guides;

that reminds.

- look in the mirror.

sun-burned and leathered.

far off eyes.

hands grizzled.

- connect the scars and remember when and where and how.

and why.

the .50 cal thumb;

the forced march in boots three sizes to small;

blisters faint now, smoothed over by cashmere socks, but so deep you couldn't walk;

toes numb, frostbitten in some fighting hole as ya hamstered sunflower seeds.

back sore, unremitting, nagging like am eastern european mother-in-law.

- 150 pound rucksacks hitching a ride for 20 miles or so did that, i think.

those are the "when's," the "where's", the "how's."

and the "why."

well, you were a kid.

that's why.

real simple, Timmy.

take a deep, deep breath.

chest huge, puffed up.

pulmonary alveolus wide open, flooding the bloodstream with oxygen.

and wait.

just wait.

it'll come.

feel it.

warm and tingly.

hold it for a moment.

just a moment.

a fleeting wonderful moment.

and exhale,

like whisper...

China blocks coastal waters, enlarges military - Washington Times

2011-04-13T11:14:00.000-07:00

in ten years your 5th graders will be pushing up the Yangtze.

it's gonna be brutal.

just ask the Frozen Chosin...

China blocks coastal waters, enlarges military - Washington Times

RIP Sidney Lumet

2011-04-09T11:37:00.000-07:00

' “While the goal of all movies is to entertain,” Mr. Lumet once wrote, “the kind of film in which I believe goes one step further. It compels the spectator to examine one facet or another of his own conscience. It stimulates thought and sets the mental juices flowing.” '

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/04/10/movies/sidney-lumet-director-of-american-classics-dies-at-86.html?_r=2

never thought i'd say this...

2011-04-07T15:30:00.001-07:00

but aside from the whole "birther," debate, Donald Trump has it pretty dead on. and although i get the whole historical significance of a black president (especially nearing the sesquicentennial anniversary of the Civil War), what's it all mean if the brother's just another limp-dick politician?

JACK.

SHIT.

Ellroy V. Pocket Gopher

2011-04-07T10:37:00.000-07:00

he tore my lawn all to hell.

a so-called "pocket gopher."

Thomomys botta.

and on a sunny weekday afternoon, as a stiff breeze rolled off the hill, he met Ellroy.

Canis familiaris...

battle fatigue

war is all hell

Gustav Hansford

2011-04-06T09:39:00.000-07:00

wrote The Short Timers, aka Full Metal Jacket, and The Phantom Blooper.

-- unfortunately they're out of print, but there's a website dedicated to him, www.gustavhasford.com. , where you can read most of his prose.

some of what i read, including this in particular, was pretty goddamn insightful:

"Like a woman who has never given birth, the man who has not faced death and inflicted death will for all of his life feel somehow not quite complete. Combat veterans are completely puzzled and bemused by the strangers who try to start fistfights with veterans in bars to prove how tough they are. Macho civilians envy the veteran for something the veteran, or at least some veterans, would be only too happy to transfer, or get rid of, like bad memories, or a plastic leg.

The soldier's war comes and goes, and ends. But noncombatants search endlessly for substitutes for war and attach to war that esoteric glamor which always attaches itself to the unattainable...

Veterans quickly learn that the fantasies of aspiring war heroes and the realities of the experiences of war, what you gain for a short time and what you lose forever, can never be bridged."

- The Phantom Blooper, 1990

i know, sounds like a bunch of Veteran bravado, but we're granted that, i think, @ least.

Gustav Hansford is dead now.

i'd have liked to have met him.

Saturday and gloomy

2011-04-02T16:01:00.000-07:00

been awhile. the back's been paining me some, so i've taken time off to resolve it.

gotta appt. @ Cedars Sinai next week, hopefully their treatment will supersede the V.A.

but don't get me wrong -- don't misunderstand my intentions.

there are good people down in Long Beach, off 7th street.

the Veterans Administration.

but not the best.

they're just...available.

and i figure it's my life.

my days and nights awake for hours on end because of some tiny little defect in my spine;

the pills they happily shove down your throat only to shoot daggers @ you when you ask for more;

the MRI's;

the X-Rays...

i'm whining, again.

i quit that.

anywho, i may have to spend big cheese with the doc's up in Los Angeles.

massive debt.

or not.

i assume it's worth it.

i assume that's what you're supposed to do.

not just give up because it hurts.

or guzzle tiny white pills till you're screws-ville.

you gotta try.

@ least that's what they tell me.

Anti-American Extremists Among Libyan Rebels U.S. Has Vowed To Protect

2011-03-19T13:18:00.000-07:00

Anti-American Extremists Among Libyan Rebels U.S. Has Vowed To Protect

I don't really understand my country anymore.
It sure isn't the same one I read about as a kid.
Maybe it's just a natural progression.
From Beacon of Light and Intelligence to Self-Sabotage and Jackassery.
'Gyres,' Yeats called it.
'Circling the bowl,' Carlan said.
Think I finally understand why all those Veterans ditched out and headed to the mountains, 'Jeremiah Johnson' style.

only scary 'cuz of the mask. trust me. probably looks the dude pushing week old wieners @ 7/11. and probably couldn't hit the broadside of a barn. 'course, every dog has his day...

Ellroy # 7

2011-03-15T23:48:00.000-07:00

a dog's life...

rifle range gang

2011-03-15T00:48:00.000-07:00

@ 25 yards, i nearly took the red.

@ 5, it vanished.

hidden amid cardboard manufacturers and pallet assemblers, lies the rifle range.

it's a small place, but close.

attendants in a constant state of disdain.

on their hips -- 1911's.

.45 caliber teflon coated hollow-points.

ex-cops.

no proof, but they've got that...cop feel.

grimacing;

scowling;

terse, well-rehearsed answers to questions posed several times a day.

and i've learned to expect this -- the general atmosphere.

doesn't bother me anymore.

matter of fact, even thought about a rifle range story.

-- script 'bout the workers.

and the patrons.

a revolving cast of kooks and mad men.

atimes normal fellas. just average joe's.

but it's the others. the aforementioned patrons.

the 63-year old man rigged in para-military gear -- sporting skin tight "affliction," tee's and 8-inch .357's.

well honed revolvers polished silver from years of use.

dedicated shooters, they are.

chomping at the bit, twitch finger, hoping some punk pulls a sharpened screwdriver in a dark alley.

then there's the gangster-types.

the "exotics," i like to call them.

black 'n gray tattoos. sad clowns, pit bulls, Jesus on the cross, RIP Joey, etc., etc.

big bosomed broads brandishing pistolas.

generally new pistols, the "exotics," carry.

Glocks; HK's; Taurus.

mostly 9mm Glocks, though.

and white, white Air Jordans.

brand spanking new.

can't hit the broadside of a barn, these gents.

but they look mean as hell.

and are willing to pull the trigger.

guess that's all that matters.

next, the asians -- generally meek looking individuals with high-speed weaponry.

determined faces. stolid, unforgiving.

ready to protect their kin from another Riot.

and absolutely no sense of gun safety.

wielding a pistol like it's a remote control.

they don't talk much.

-- dig that.

we've got the obese middle-aged guy -- he's rigged for competition.

3k on a pistol with laser sights, tricked out barrel, ventilated rib.

looks like something straight out of a richard donner flick (think danny glover vs. the Predator).

dozen magazines strapped to his side -- gut flap preventing quick access.

what's the point, right?

finally, there's me. my type.

Veterans.

disgruntled, sporting issued combat boots and reliable weapons.

we don't talk much either.

well, maybe to each other.

about our tours in Iraq or Afghan -- annunciating quite loudly.

as if the rest of the range couldn't figure out we were Jarheads @ one point in time.

apparently the "United States Marine Corps," caps aren't enough.

so we state loud.

and generally hit our targets.

BAM!

-- all in the red.

standing like they taught us.

feet shoulder width apart;

breathe;

exhale;

slowly squeeze the trigger...and --

BLAM!

sulfur hits your nose, brass airborne.

CHING!

all alone in that booth with your gun's and ammo.

and after 400 rounds, you've had enough, least i do.

100 bucks downrange...buried in sawdust.

butcha know what?

once that last round speeds down the barrel,

and that brass CHING! CHING! CHING's, on the cement floor, i can breathe easier.

pulse settles, smile comes, and maybe even a little natural high (sans VA meds) hits you in the gut.

right where it used to be.

walk out, nod to the rifle-range gang, remove your earplugs/eye protection and hit the open air with a get-up in your go.

i call it therapy...

ellroy vs. the gopher

2011-03-14T22:34:00.001-07:00

as charlie sheen preens

2011-03-11T11:20:00.000-08:00

Got word twelve Leathernecks from 3rd Battalion 5th Marines were killed in four days over in Afghanistan this past month (reports conflict -- some say it happened in December).

Nevertheless, young Men ages 21 to 29.

Killed In Action.
Most probably lower ranking enlisted.

Privates, Corporals...life-takers/heart breakers.
Suppose they knew the danger when signing up -- hell, there's a war on.
Tells ya a bit about their character.

Whatta shame the good ones go off and die, while the shit-bricks back home are...nevermind.

It's pretty futile. Life is unfair...yadda, yadda. Push on and smile.

Semper Fidelis.

And God bless.

little something i drew up for Los Angeles Harbor College's weekly rag;

Harbor Tides. seems like a lifetime ago -- back when our KIA's hit 2K.

wonder what it's @ now...

screed # 23

2011-03-08T10:02:00.000-08:00

it was the morning.
Sitting in the front room, my back hurting bad and me getting the willies.
Hadn't taken tramadol in some time.
It was calling.
So things change.
Perspectives.
Outlooks.
And for whatever goddamn reason I got to perusing wikipedia.
You ever do that?
One thing leads to the other...
"shemagh" leads to the "IDF" to "commandos" to "SOCOM" to "Iran in 1953."
-- that was the coup. When BP got eighty-sixed from Persia.
we; America, stirred up some shit with an elite force of CIA paramilitary-types.
Ultimately ended up screwing the pooch, and instead of right-minded Islamists running the Middle-East we get the Jihadi's.mind you this was carried out by the "elite" boys on our side.
-- hump 40 clicks with 97 pounds on yer pack, killya with a ball point pen-types.
and they're operating in Iraq and Afghanistan now.
God knows where else.
And we're spending BILLIONS on 'em.
Diverting funds;
debt up the yin yang;accidently ripping off a 'lil afghani girl's nose...
And for what?
Costco?
40 bucko's to fill my corrolla?
Afghanistan's turning Taliban;
Iraq wants us out;
and a whole shit ton of young Americans are essentially damaged goods.
-- the punch-line to some SNL skit 8 years from now.
And yet we've got these 'elite' forces out there battling teen terrorists--who are winning the war.
Hundreds of thousands of US dollars per head...as they hold their own with rusty AKs and jerry-rigged RPGs.
I don't get it.
Follow the money, they say.
Well, I certainly don't have any.

we're remodeling

2011-03-07T13:44:00.001-08:00

around these.

thoughts?

We made pancakes...

2011-03-06T19:25:00.001-08:00

just like granny used to make.

under the gaffey st. bridge

2011-03-04T23:02:00.000-08:00

a homeless man lives under the gaffey street bridge.

he's old, ancient.

but then again, he's homeless -- gent could be pushing 40.

been there since 2000.

i know this because we spoke once.

more like a confrontation.

years ago, a dead friend and i came into money.

a week @ sea on the 40-foot Lancer

cruising the channel.

up and around Santa Catalina;

San Nicholas;

San Clemente islands.

spotted my 1st swordfish.

-- moderate sized girl with fist-sized beaks in her belly (big squid in the summer).

nevertheless i got a 50 spot.

-- finders fee.

DD harpooned her off the starboard.

Mario; the dead friend, piloted the Lancer expertly.

and she was ours.

but i'm rambling.

straying.

this is about a homeless man under the gaffey street bridge in san pedro, ca.

years ago, with money in our pockets, a friend and i bought about 20 bucks worth of Hostess product.

the factory nearby.

damaged Ding-Dongs;

slipshod Suzi-Qs;

defective Dunken Sticks (you get the picture) -- all on the cheap.

we had our fill.

and with several chocolately treats left, we decided to hook up the homeless man under the gaffey street bridge.

we stopped, drove to the gaffey street bridge

and low and behold, he was there.

clutching an AM/PM Big Gulp, wearing a scowl.

buddy crossed the street, grubbage in hand -- the homeless man spying us from afar.

he stood.

looked past us.

and from i can remember, he took our sugar-coated offerings -- with great disdain, with contempt, with a fiery disjointed glare -- and hurled them unto the ground.

just like that.

"i don't need your charity," he said.

didn't need it.

didn't want it.

and he's still there, under the gaffey street bridge.

2011.

View Larger Map

'Get Some' getting some, again!

2011-03-01T21:32:00.000-08:00

well I just found out the short film I wrote "Get Some," was purchased from USC for programming in Italy.

we're talking Vatican City;

San Marino;

Monte Carlo;

Capodistria;

Malta;

and the Swiss who speak-ah the Italiano.

gotta thank Christine Berg (director)/Gerard McMurray (producer).

-- exceptional talents

gonna be some great exposure.

GET SOME

screenplay: Mandia

director: Berg

la metropolitan courthouse on a gray day

2011-02-23T13:52:00.000-08:00

It's an old building with loads of marble and tile. Yellowed and gray brown, like puss. Influenza phlegm. A long line of men/women wind their way along the floor-- polished smooth from years of foot-draggers. Essentialy one massive cluster-fuck of inner-city street life. A microsm of Los Angeles all gathered together to pay the piper. Care of some fat cop with a qouta to fill. Wife at home, 50 lbs over weight -- counting calories, noshing a king-sized kit kat bar. But back to the courthouse. I paid eight dollars to park. Wandered around a bit, watching the deputy sheriffs' eyeball my USMC cap. Most not bothering to get up from their swivel chairs. Just sat there. Looking up from a copy of the funny pages, to flash a contemptous glare at all us degenerates. Well, it's been about two hours -- looks like I'm up.

"bro's"

2011-02-22T23:13:00.000-08:00

the guy @ the 7/11 calls me "bro."

he's an Asian.

looks Thai, maybe Hmong.

i call him Jackie after Jackie Chan. a poor man's Jackie Chan with grizzled hands and slippery mitts hardened by callouses.

Jackie stands behind the counter looking rather blank.

expressionless.

until i reach his register.

he calls me "bro," and looks me in the eye like an old friend.

barely know him.

visit the establishment in the wee hours.

five bucks.

five-hour energy.

Lemonheads, three packs.

Yoohoo or Coke Zero.

my routine.

last night though, he wasn't behind the counter.

he passed me in line, his hand clenched; attached to a girl.

30-something Hispanic.

gordita-type.

eye-brows thin and black and not exactly even.

a Raiders hoodie riding high on Costco jeans.

i watched them walk outside -- calm, mute, and determined.

determined to hit the street, hang a right -- seeking repose on a cement divider.

an Indian-type rang me up.

he did not call me "bro."

he did not call me anything.

just "four-ninety-five," in a rather monotone voice.

i left a bit empty.

really.

i pounded the bottled energy in my car.

it tasted like rancid goat piss.

with a hint of grape.

wishing i had a Yoohoo to wash the chemical stain down my throat.

but i didn't, so i sat there cringing, sucking my tongue.

popping quatro Lemonheads, my head cocked starboard.

eyes falling on Jackie and his girl (let's call her Lupe)

smoking cigarettes and talking gently, his arm around Lupe's waist.

looking pleased.

VROOM! i kicked the car into reverse and rumbled down gaffey street.

slight smile on my face as the Lemonheads turned sweet.

bitterness all gone.

found history

2011-02-22T18:09:00.000-08:00

in the garage, under a bin, sealed away, i found history.

matches for the Iraqi masses.

rat out the terrorists and get some cheese.

before beginning my screenplay

2011-02-20T21:38:00.000-08:00

i write just one poem (or blog) -- greasing the gears -- an odd pastiche of script and sonnet.

this time it's Afghanistan -- poppies and ice.

Marjoram sans burhka.

Brown-brown eye’s spread out, warm.

still wet, glistening.

Wind HOWLS deep, polishing stone.

Shooting past poked-marked loam.

Vertical roads, replete with potholes.

Dripping dust.

Dropping dirt.

Big puffs -- sand; billowing and dissipating.

Twisted up good now on exposed root -- concrete arteries, straining.

Screaming for soil;

Security;

Safety.

And deep down the mountain crevasse, it numbs her toes.

Her nose;

Fingernails -- ice-trays;

Lips -- slushies, solid and blue.

Not quite cracked.

Not quite chapped.

The bulbous bud sweeps over her, like a blanket straight from the dryer on a sharp Sunday afternoon.

Head cocked to the left, flowing up up and away.

A fever dream that lasts half the day.

a visit

2011-02-18T22:55:00.001-08:00

had a slumber party a few weeks back.

Annika and her people.

Moms; Aunt P; 'Bastion.

Us.

just in town for a stitch.

sky was blue, blue.

and warm.

and everything peachy as hell.

good folks from Oregon and San Fran.

Moms, my Beauty, and Mandia

beside a popcorn monroe @ universal city walk.

she's got those beautiful eyes. and curly cute lips

Ellroy dancy dancy,

Paula/Mandia. called having fun. i'm learning. and the fish help too

drank milk. got tall. played the roundball

'bastion/Annika @ the cabrillo aquarium looking oh so hawt

DNA Links Grocery Clerk To Semen Found In Yogurt Sample Eaten By Woman | The Smoking Gun

2011-02-09T17:27:00.000-08:00

DNA Links Grocery Clerk To Semen Found In Yogurt Sample Eaten By Woman | The Smoking Gun

interesting world we live in.

the Wolfman streaming

2011-02-07T23:05:00.000-08:00

thanks to netflix and Curt Siodmak.

'Even a man who is pure in heart,
and says his prayers by night,
may become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms,
and the autom moon is full and bright.'

He's kind of a big deal.

2011-02-01T11:21:00.000-08:00

Ellroy, that is.

genuine spokes-doggie.

http://www.doxidelight.com/dachsie.htm

appleheads

2011-01-31T22:42:00.000-08:00

seem to be my thing as of late.

these little old time hard candies made by Ferrara Pan.

-- think lemonheads.

essentially the same thing, just apple.

and green, not yellow.

get it?

and they get me writing.

which is a good thing. need to punch out some pages this evening and the morrow.

a long night with Ellroy on my lap.

he gets so peaceful.

eyes quiet and grinning.

dreaming of cottontails on the run.

almost don't wanna disturb him, but i've got to.

work to be done.

pissed off christoff @ eblogger.com is on hiatus.

...for a short period of time.

and now:

three glowing green globes of glucose popped in the kisser.

time to work.

Annabelle

2011-01-26T11:29:00.000-08:00

she was this little furry face behind bars.

pound puppy wanting a touch.

now she's got Annika;

and Ellroy;

and me.

fat finger

2011-01-21T23:43:00.000-08:00

can't use my 99¢ barber shop comb because i'm all swollen up.

middle finger dinged by a devil rooster.

they call him 'Clem.'

and i'm tempted to ring his neck.

'lil bastard.

see, he's a fighter.

kid's got these spurs -- two-inch long spines above his feet.

long, tapering to a needle-like point.

and like the Viet Cong, he smears his punji sticks with feces.

-- his own.

double edged sword of sorts.

you got the laceration, and the infection.

and i got both.

swoll up like retired tennessee coal miner, my finger is.

hurts, too.

nothing to write home about, but an amazingly effective defense.

got the finger to prove it.

the "pakistani"

2011-01-21T00:00:00.000-08:00

we called it the "pakistani."

a curved dagger-type knife, purchased in Tijuana.

my Dad bought it, i think.

my mom protested, of course.

a very early memory -- clouded, disjointed.

selective...

kids.

thirteen going on 30. peddling chiclets -- cellophane wrapped white gum.

and the Indians -- sitting crossed-legged on the concrete, hawking beads and thatched baskets.

cheap shit, something undoubtedly found in a dumpster, reclaimed for the gringos' and their rumpus rooms.

tossed a few pennies their way, but they didn't look up -- just kept stringing beads.

big broad brown faces.

high-cheeked, deadpan.

wondered where they slept.

saw a small shanty town near an open sewer -- their only safe haven.

and it stunk to high hell, probably keeping the Federali's @ bay.

random debris floating by, coalescing around an abandoned VW Bug.

ceramic mickey mice baking in the sun high above on the bridge, overseeing the squalor.

but this was about my "pakistani" knife.

i lost it years ago.

shame, it was a good knife.

nearly got a wild hair up my ass and bought this thing...nearly.

A Review of Operation In Their Boots, Pt. 2 - On Violence

2011-01-20T17:56:00.000-08:00

A Review of Operation In Their Boots, Pt. 2 - On Violence
tiny little review of my docuementry, 'the academic front.'

Ahhh, TJ

2011-01-19T13:43:00.000-08:00

'I crossed the border at dawn. Tijuana was just coming awake as I turned onto Revolucion, it's main drag. Child beggars were digging for breakfast in trash cans, taco vendors were stirring pots of dog-meat stew, sailors and marines were being escorted out of whorehouses at the end of their five-spot all nighters. The smarter ones stumbled over to Calle Colon and the penicillin pushers; the stupidos hotfooted toward East TJ, the Blue Fox and the Chicago Club--no doubt eager to catch the early morning donkey show. Tourist cars were already lined up outside the cut-rate upholstery joints; Rurales driving prewar Chevys cruised like vultures, wearing black uniforms that looked almost like Nazi issue.'

--James Ellroy
The Black Dhalia

101 @ night

2011-01-19T00:12:00.000-08:00

is a lonely place.

street theatre

2011-01-18T18:28:00.000-08:00

man screaming @ woman, right now.
there's a scuffle outside.
woman is yelling...more like yelping.
man; the guy; the peasant-reincarnate, is ordering her into his truck.
but she doesn't wanna go.
"NO!""
and she's up the street now.
he's in hot pursuit.
there's more yelling and i've chambered my .45ACP.
no -- i'm not actually that crazy.
but when you deal with this...jackassery on a near daily basis, you prepare yourself.
and as a matter of fact, it really doesn't bother me much.
not that much.
just the initial realization -- man and woman re-enacting kitchen sink drama on street.
for free.
with really bad dialogue by way of an angry co-ed.
piss and vinegar and some jersey shore.
and woman, well, she's taking cues from Friday the 13th.
yelping loudly.
screeching.
running -- no, not running -- slow jogging away.
mating ritual of sorts?

have half a mind to walk outside and intercede.
but you know what?
Ellroy needs his foodies...

wet...rooster

2011-01-17T20:33:00.001-08:00

oh, and he got a bath.
shoulda seen him.
eyes closed.
warm agua.
if a beak could smile...

monday night cock fights

2011-01-17T18:05:00.000-08:00

Clementine Fluff vs. Stuffed Duck

Hey, I took a break from writing. Don't judge....

LAPD the Compound

2011-01-16T17:56:00.000-08:00

the ghetto bird is real close tonight.
too close.

flying low, spotlighting the canyon.

circling.

dipping.

coming in, then pulling out.

fast -- like it's going outa style.

shaking the house -- an old house.

1930s, i believe.

the walls are thick, but the windows -- the windows, old n' brittle. i can see them flex and ripple.
and it reminds me of camp pendleton.

but that was a military base.

and this is a suburb of Los Angeles.

albeit devalued.

ghetto bird just shined it's light into my house.

right now, this very instant.

Ellroy going ape.

fanging it, snarling.

i go to touch him.

calm him.

he lunges @ me in the melee.

car alarms blaring like nobody's business.

and it's been going on for nearly dos horas.

you'd think the cops would have some goddamn consideration.

you know, like perhaps a budding screenwriter is trying to hash out some 'motivational' issues with his script.

you'd think.

well maybe you wouldn't.

maybe you think the cops are just doing their job.
true, true.

nevertheless, it's distracting as all hell.

respect cops, sure -- but when these flatfoots forget they work for us, it's a whole other story.

solve Ronni Chasen's murder;

-- and the Black Dhalia's for that matter.

get MS-13 off the street;

crack down on Pedro's crackheads.

oh wait -- the sirens.

they've kicked on.

bellowing.

chasing down some criminal.

well good. go get 'em fellas!

just try not to run over some kid in the process...please.

as for me, think i'll watch Scarface.

the original.

never liked De Palma's version.

Paul Muni all the way.

light blue and lavender

2011-01-12T21:17:00.000-08:00

outside.

yesterday.

here in San Pedro, CA.

took Ellroy on a walk.

soon as i stepped out in the world, my pulse slowed.

lowered, because everything was draped in light blue and lavender.

and it made Rancho San Pedro look like a town, instead of a run-down borough of Los Angeles.

everything looked so...nice.

the graffiti; the low-riders; the well-muscled curs.

even Annika's vanilla latte from coffee bean, left on the corner like some styrofoam obelisk.

(wishing she was there by my side.)

(wishing i could look into those eyes.)

nevertheless, we; Ellroy and I, walked a new path.

down towards the harbor -- aesthetics calling.

the pooch pulling.

Mandia on cruise control -- taking it all in.

rounded a corner, past the ankle-biters.

the Tamale Man.

and a fettered pit bull sporting a sweater.

cute pup.

fangs -- foaming.

eyes -- bugging.

sweater -- soiled with blood and God knows what.

so up and around the block.

light blue and lavender gradually fading.

getting dark.

getting not so nice.

ominous, even.

fortunately the compound in sight.

Marine Corps flag draped and faded.

lawn green, green.

and a pulverized privy languishing nearby.

but hey i can't complain.

80 degrees today.

dead o' winter.

and her by my side...

Mr. Hellroy

2011-01-10T16:45:00.000-08:00

down near his crotch, he doesn't like to be touched.

he'll growl.

and show his teeth, just for a bit.

but Ellroy's normally simpatico -- a happy grinning pooch with an ever wagging tail.

eye's bright, shiny, alert.

now throw in Annabel; his wire-haired girlfriend of sorts, and we've got Mr. Hell-roy.

as if he's embarrassed. doesn't want anyone near his man parts.

'cept Annabell.

i can respect that.

who'd want a grown man itching around their crotch with the wife standing near-by?

not me.

but now -- an uneventful Monday afternoon -- with writing calling, Ellroy's back to his old self.

Mr. Hunky-Dory.

jumping on my lap for kisses.

and some huggin's.

burying his head behind my ear.

currently snugged up against me as i type.

looking up ever so often, making sure i'm still there.

he'll smile, an honest to God doggy smile.

few pats on the back, flip of the ear, a "good boy."

he's longer now. and his coat is deep deep brown like rust.

no more peach fuzz.

and that's how it goes.

because the kid's growing up.

-- matter of fact, he's looking @ me right now. eye's big and bold. letting me know it's time for dinner.

and yep, it sure is.

andy warhol

2011-01-09T18:05:00.000-08:00

kinda cool, yeah?

andy warhol prints.

South Bay Open Carry

2011-01-05T15:20:00.000-08:00

if you didn't know, now you do: it's legal to open carry a handgun in the State of CA.

-- if you're legally able to purchase a handgun in the State of CA, you're legally able to open carry it.

-- ammunition must be separate.

-- and of course, check your local laws. certain places don't allow it.

it's your ass. and trust me, obtuse cops are just waiting to bust you.

their website: southbayopencarry.org

gotta Wiki

2011-01-04T02:28:00.000-08:00

found it a few months back.

chris mandia via wikipedia

care of Clint Van Winkle -- fellow hard-charging Jarhead turned scribe.

indeed, very cool.

cloud 9 -- just for a bit.

and no, i didn't create it.

and yes, i've thought about it many times.

and no, i'm not really that ostentatious.

and yes, i'm willing to pinky swear.

click here