Tryptophan Trippin'

Happy Thanksgiving everybody! CheDawg, lil Drake, and I are roadtrippin up the West coast to spend the holiday with Mr. Reith in San Fran, hoping to make it back in one piece, not too confident about it;)

I like you, do you like me?

Borat could be in trouble!

Jammin in the Keys...

Last Friday, Jam and I drove over the Florida Keys until we hit the end of the line, the Southernmost point of the continental US: Key West. A once very secluded place, it has an unique history including such notables as Ponce De Leon, Samuel A. Mudd (Ft. Jefferson), Harry Truman, the birthplace of PanAm, Ernest Hemingway, JFK and, how could I forget, Mr. Jimmy Buffet. While now it may be more a tourist trap than anything else, I can only imagine how awesome it was back in the day. An outpost in the South. Technically in the States, but far enough off the beaten path not to be bothered with “overregulation” and “law” (see bootlegging during the Prohibition). Just 90 miles off the coast of Cuba, I could picture Ernest Hemingway throwing back glass after glass of rum in his home, to help stay cool during the summer months' relentless heat and humidity.


It’s really enough to make you want to find a deserted key and just chill there for a few months, away from everything. Chlling out with friends, sitting up late, and watching the moon hover over the ocean while warm ocean breezes carry away any problem that may have seemed to seize the day. Yeah, Jam and I thought this sounded great, but then we figured going back to work would be such hell! Mondays are bad enough after a short weekend, imagine a few months of that?! We would have to have something to ground us (maybe a daily newspaper or the internet for news, sans email of course;).

In a sense that’s what exploring is all about. Finding your little paradise that hasn’t been discovered by everyone. Something that isn't overly commercialized and marketed to the masses. It’s akin to choosing a visit to Krakow in November over Munich during Oktoberfest.

Anyway, I left the humidity and sweat and returned to warm, dry, desert heat (with a little bit of smokiness in the air, can't forget about that smog, yum yum). Key West was cool, as was Jam, as was Miami and South Beach. I'm always reminding myself that I'm in the US when I'm there, because it's easy to forget that you are!

Number One DJ in the World

Mr. Paul Van Dyke.
Can't say I have too many agruments with that one.

Lost in the Triangle..

Halloween Scare for Jam

Halloween was hot in SoCal, so Jam and woke up early and headed off to Six Flags Amusement Park. The weather was beautiful, the lines were nada, and the Belizeans were hyperventilating. HA! Poor Jam, she had never been to this American style of "entertainment"(e.g. racing 85 mph at 3Gs and being spun sideways and upways and downways and all sorts of ways until you are ready to upchuck your lunch), and was quite apprehensive about the whole thing. What should I do? Start her with the little coasters so she can work her way up? Or, just put her on the most "extreme" one and pretend it's just a little coaster until she is "locked" into the seat. Then tell her how petrified you yourself are. Yeah, I went with the latter. Ha, she was a trooper though, and managed to get through the rides without squeezing me to death. Later on that afternoon we went on my favorite ride..the one where you ride those silly little logs in the water (see right). It's a lame ride, but I like it. Jam was pretty mellow about that, smiling, laughing..and then..it stopped..as we got closer to the end and rapids started to pick up...END OF THE LINE..just before we went over the edge I saw this dude and said, "WTF mate, look at that view, I reckon you have the best job in all of S. Cali, POSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!"

Glory Days..

It's hard to believe this picture was taken on Sunday night. Today I checked up on Wilma (left), Earl (second from the left), and their two children only to find Wilma keeled over dead on the grass, Earl noticably sagging and showing some serious signs of senescence, and the kids looking like they have Gilford’s syndrome. I guess LA's air quality really is quite horrid:), back home they would have been smiling for weeks still, albeit that's probably because they would have been frozen.

Neptune's Net

A Tribute to Neptune's Net is in order. I can't believe it took me this long to post about it. Saturday, Hud, Gaines, Jam and I drove up to Malibu to devour fresh fresh seafood, cheap cheap suds (32 oz. cans of Miller Lite sold at gas station prices:), warm warm sun, and a view of the ocean to kill for. I just wish I wouldn't have stuffed myself so much at breakfast! The best part about NN is, after you chill the whole day doing nothing, you can walk across the street and hit the beach.

There's something great about catching up with those who have spent a significant part of their lives in Michigan..and finding ourselves drinking beers and skipping stones into the sun.

FYI how ya like the shirt? the California sun is too bright for the Nomadlife logo to show up.

WHERE'S MY SNACK PACK?!?!

HA! Now, I'm not one to gossip so you didnt hear this from me, but this one is funny, plus it was about a block away from my home. Plus it involves Billly Madison, Happy Gilmore, Toll Booth Willie etc etc. I'd write about it but my friend does such a better job..FYI: I was the one who, after a few cocktails, glanced over and "thought" I saw Adam Sandler chillin in the car next to me...it's a strange thing when that happens because you really think your mind is playing tricks on you, or make that you think the alcohol is playing tricks on you. Anyway, CheDawg confirmed it, and Jammie reaffirmed it with her was speechlessness: "I, I, I always had a thing for his schnoz"..;)

To All: I have another little star-sighting for all of you from Hollywood...Last Friday night, while on the hunt for bars, my friends and I stopped at a light in the Brentwood neighborhood (Wilshire and Bundy, to be exact), and to our right pulled up a car. One of my friends in the car stated, "Hey, that's Adam Sandler!" I scoffed to myself, thinking it highly unlikely, but another friend of mine piped and said, "Yeah, its Adam Sandler!" I turned and looked, and my friends proved me wrong: It was Adam Sandler<http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001191/bio>. When I first glanced over, I saw a young, cut little blond girl sitting shotgun. When I looked at the driver, I saw Adam Sandler, wearing a plain t-shirt, baseball cap and looking like he was working out of late (his arms were HUGE). He acknowledged us spotting him, and when he drove off ahead of us, he gave us the peace sign out of his window. Interesting side note: he was driving, of all cars, a mid-to-late 90s Cadillac STS. This is hilarious to me, since it is such a "downscale" car for someone of his income, wealth and fame. In LA, you have people who make a FRACTION of his income or wealth driving cars that are worth multiple times as much. It is like he was some Northeast kid who thought he was all money and bought a used Cadillac from his grandparents. Hell, he was dressed like some suburban kid from Long Island! I will give him mad props though: he had a modesty to him that is lostupon a lot of the fu fu Hollywood elites in this town. Cheers, -- Frank Giancola

Not Crazy After All?

Always blamed my and my friend's weirdness on the basis of the high amount of Absinthe we consumed during college. But, it turns out its not so bad after all. Wired has the full story on the stuff.

Thanks, Gaines. Yo. Respek.