My Robot Is Pregnant theme song!

He seemed quite rich. The house was minimally furnished with heigh end pieces – glass and steel work table, set playfully with a ping pong table across the middle. The black marble counters kept someone busy cleaning but it wasn’t him.

A casual pile of 4 or 5 Iphones, the latest model, drew my attention and I dared ask, “Why do you have so many phones?”

“Arent they wonderful?” he answered.

I left it at that, not wanting an explanation for any of it, leaving the magic of wealth unpenetrated. There are rumors it’s quite ugly to a poorer man’s eyes.

Got hired to haul the garbage on this street in half moon bay. Someones filming a movie about surfing and they cancelled garbage service for the week, so here I am. Independent Garbage Man.

Don’t look for me in the credits. This is unsung hero territory down here.

“This line is like dumb ass long.”

So the wisdom is in the DMV non appointment queue.

Have a boat, a scooter and a truck to register. I’ll be here till Monday.

someone stuck this micro billboard on this parking sign. In vain I climbed a short ladder to tape my business card up there. I must come back with a six footer.

Yes sir. Been some time since we checked in on our drunken private eye. We find him again at the far end of the bar, a dark lager in a pint glass dripping its head down the inside. He’d been speaking about an old case, an investigation into an alleged drunken mother’s behavior. He tailed her around town, she stopped at bars. Drinking and driving with the kids in the back seat? Bingo. Sole custody for dad.

“It’s what’s called a hot tail, I kept a complete chromatic change in my backpack while in pursuit on the bike. I even had a backpack in my backpack in case I was spotted. I would become a guy in a green jacket with a blue bag, not the guy in the red jacket with the black bag that was behind us five minutes ago.”

Mr. Louden was hoping for a little work in the morning, painting a fence in a back yard for someone in the neighborhood. The years spent smoking crack kept him from the financial obligations Internal Revenue expected of him, and now the majority of income diverted back to them.

“Fence painting doesn’t pay well, but such are the wages of sin, which apparently must continue to be paid long after the sinning has stopped…” he lamented from his barstool, then picked up the newspaper he’d brought with him and went back to his quiet world in the public eye.
Some asshole put on Eminem and they began dancing by the tables near the windows. Cant a local tavern have a decent tuesday night atmosphere? One without downtown overpaid merrymakers out blowing off steam like drunken college boys gone cowtipping? Perhaps this part of town is sleeping standing up, but not to provide sport for overstimulated ADHD generation scene slummers.

(here one notices the narrator’s voice has become infected with the lead characters bitter ennui. It’s similar in the way that one starts watching football when everyone around you is cheering it on.)

The plan was – smoke hella doobies and be peaceful all day. But then after the Price Is Right was over there were gongs and chants and shit coming from the street. People were marching down the bike lane outside my house.

I had to ask myself, “Can I be peaceful if I’m protesting something?” then I remembered the Indian chief Ghandi told his Souix warriors that it was okay to fight violence with nonviolence. So I went outside.

It was like walking into George Bush’s best acid trip. One guy had a sign that said “No fags on the moon”. Another said “Jews are responsible for coupon scandals”. I’ve never seen so much hate. “Remove tools from white men, they remodel too often”? That stuff hurts.

After the marchers passed by I trailed along to see where this was going. It was just a few blocks before the crowd filed into the neighborhood polling station. Inside they set their picket signs down and rapped to an election official, who checked their names against a list of qualified voters. We all remember from Mrs. Hutchinson’s in 6th grade – that list used to be white men only…

Each protester lined up like the lunchroom and got a ballot, a marker, and the chance to vote. I’m no dummy, I went to high school for over six years by the time I made up all the units and stuff. And I still can read. So I knew what it all meant. If we have a democracy built by common people voting, it’s mad important that that population be educated to the highest degree possible, or we’re gonna elect ourselves to our own doom, homey. Our own doom. Know what I’m sayin’?

Who wants dummies voting? That’s what I’m saying. Men afraid of losing their power, that’s who. That’s what I’m saying.
So I got in line and voted, knowing the deck was stacked against me, but like praying to God, symbolism is powerful.
Then I went home, cuz it was getting time for Judge Judy and I like to watch justice being served, yo! That was my most peaceful election day yet.

Doug, at one point in his performance, straddles an actress laying on the floor and does “shampoo commercial sexy moves”, as requested by the director.

“At that point I look out in the audience and try to lock eyes with her dad, because I hate her,” Doug confides. “She shushed me once.”

In other news, the storefront is almost finished painted. Brandon says, “remember that joke you had – ‘why do they call it shitting your pants? You shit your underwear.’ – I liked that joke. ”

So I can be funny. Like white on rice. Brown rice.

That’s it for now. Good night.

56 quarters from 1958 are worth $350.19 on the spot silver market.
In other words, $14 in change then require 1400 quarters today to be equal. That would be 22 hands full.
US currency has devalued that much in 50 years. Time to learn Mandarin.

Doug’s back in town. He was a dancer in a musical version of “The Dark Side of the Moon”. Heading back to LA after the shame wears off.
Sean has an art show coming up, we’re all excited to sample some wine and see what’s on his mind.
I’d like oggy to come out and film the tv show. Bait appliance and tag hunter are some ideas.
Bait appliance – catch a metal thief by leaving a water heater next to my house.
Tag hunter – Craigslist ad for paintballers to hide in trees and shoot taggers
Mr. Hawkins is still making up funny songs.
Ive started prank calling people. It was a fad that died with caller ID. However, most people are so lonely they appreciate some conversation. Start with, “Hi, do you have a minute for a prank call?”
Leave the results in the comments section.

Like any good voter, I’m going for the candidate that pays me.

Saw a cop use this trick to let the next round of cops get in without being buzzed into the sketchy rooming house.

Got a guy in the neighborhood looking to live in a junk pile, call it a store. I got the junk, he’s got the time to be the storekeeper.
Let’s see if this can work. Always start with a change of color. Makes the neighbors notice. That’s why a white van is perfect for crime. No one notices it.