Waring a Bit Thin

Getting back into blogging after taking a bit of a break is like squeezing yourself into a new pair of latex undies, one would think. You have to ease yourself in bit by bit, take it slow, easy does it. On the other hand, a liberal sprinkling of talcum powder doesn't seem to help much and once in, it's hard to get back out.

Three poor quality posts this week equals my output for the past three months, a barren spell by anyone's standards. I was suffering a period of creative dullness, barely bothered to even notice what was going on in the mad, mad world around me let alone sit down and think about it. One thing that I have noticed is that the historic Pantages Theater in Hollywood seems to be having electrical problems, specifically with their neon sign. Over the past few weeks it has spelled all of the following:

ANTA ES
PANTAG
P NTAGES
TAG S
P T ES
PISSFLAPS

Funny how nobody noticed.

Okay, I made the last one up but the others are true. It's interesting to note that the only letter that seems to work consistently is the letter 'T'. I have made a mental note to document any further problems with the sign with pictures which I will submit to Museum of Neon Art for an exhibition of poorly maintained signs.
I have also observed that the smell of piss in the rear doorway of the old KFWB studio on Yucca has become so bad that even the homeless have abandoned it. The smell is due to a floor mat that was left there when the building was vacated and has subsequently been urinated on by the entire homeless population and full contingent of passing clubbers in Hollywood. If asked, most nomads would say that any port in a storm will do, but on a recent stormy Friday night the dry yet stinky doorway was noticeably free of unwashed vagrants. I've pissed in many a doorway whilst staggering home from the pub, usually Horace's Shoe Shop as it was recessed way back from the street and away from passing police cars, many other people did too and it smelled fuckin' terrible but this is far, far worse than the worst piss smell you could imagine. It is noticeable even across the street and with the right breeze, the other side of Vine St. So come on Johnny G Rant, Honorary Mayor of Hollywood ( I know you read this) get your act together and clean the fucker up, the cold nights are coming and the homeless need a home.

KFWPEE more like.....(childish giggles)