Meat Carpet

That is painted on a building, in ten foot high letters, somewhere in Daly city, SF. Saw it on the way to the airport yesterday and it made me chuckle.

It looks like this:















I'm back in NY. It was pissing down rain when I landed last night. Appropriate.

I did however, purely by chance, end up in the back of a white stretch limousine.














The sun really does shine on a dog's ass some days. It was a good show pulling up at the airport, relatively unwashed and pretty scruffy from camping, stumbling out of the back of a limo.
















The other night Jamie, Val, Micro-Ben and I went out for sushi. On the way out of the place (it was late, and they were closing up when we left) I saw the waitress refilling soy sauce and such. It was a pretty elaborate and precise sort of operation. It made for a good picture.















A few days ago I picked up my car down in Carmel and drove back up to SF to put it into a warehouse at the naval yard for a few months (this is another story all together). I took the 1 up the coast for a bit, through Santa Cruz and such. It was so nice to be driving again, if only for a day.















The landscape in California still amazes me. Being from the east coast I am blown away by what you see on the highway. I took these while driving. It's no Garden State Parkway, but it'll do.




























Here's a visual depiction of driving in NJ.














And the road to SF at sunset.
















I miss it already. Particularly after spending eight hours or so under the thumb of Delta's asshat employees. The next time I spend an hour waiting for my bag to turn up someone will be staring down the wrong end of a stick with a nail in it. It's the Rollins in me. I'm still reading 'Get in the Van.' I'm also still impressed by it. Not a chapter goes by where Rollins hasn't punched at least a dozen people, mostly his fans and then raised holy hell tearing around LA with Nick Cave. It's also quite poetic at moments. It's a good read. For some reason I decided to take it camping last week and it bummed me out to be reading about touring and music and small, shitty clubs and terrible european food and losing people that you care about, but for some reason I couldn't put it down. It makes me want to write Rollins a letter a tell him that I've felt that way many times over, and wish that I could have punched more necks to get through it.

So it goes.



















I'm still piecing together a bunch of stuff from my camping trip. With any luck I'll be able to churn out something mediocre in the next few days (is that negative?). But really, it was an amazing trip, and I've got a lot of pictures, so any day now.