And with that, just know that yes, I am back and badder than ever, but NO, I don't have anything of any substance to hit the folks with today.
I went to Agenda Thursday-Friday. I fagged it tho, and left my camera in my clothes backpack instead on my "backpacker backpack", so I literally only got like 8 photos, all of which were of this wack ass live painting exhibit by a bunch of nobodies and the street artist known as "BigFoot". Cooooooool.
I'm getting ahead of myself.
Thursday morning wake up, a bit on the hungover side because I figured, why not get hammed the night before a long ass drive thru traffic in L.A.
Traffic: 1 Ollie: 0
I finally get on the road around 10:05 a.m. on Thursday, next stop: Huntington Beach.
I was jammin', makin great time, no one fuckin' up my mission until BLLLLAAAAMMMM!, Hello Grapevine. (for the non-California based readers, the Grapevine is basically the only way to get from central cali to southern cali without EXTREME detours). 11:45 All of a sudden, everybody locks up the breaks and I get pinched between a literal wall of big rigs. Don't ask me why I was in the truck lane, I think I was trying to make a power move and outflank a large line-up of idiots pacing the traffic in lane 3.
When I finally get clear of the wall of big rigs, I look up to see 4 lanes of traffic backed up for as far as I could see. Literally, a solid 5-7 miles of no one moving. AT ALL.
Cut to 1:45 p.m. I have moved no more than 3 miles in the last 2 hours. The drugs are wearing off and my patience is running thin. I'm even more pissed that the camera has enough juice to take like 6 flicks before it is going to die. I conserve.
Next to me, I see this wild old black lady puffin' tuff on a "big ol bomber" (that's what my ultra hip uncle calls joints). great. No photo op.
The source for this clusterfuck? Some double axled truck turned over and rolled a few times and ended up laid out, completely flat, stretching across the entire width of the freeway.
After I got thru that jam, everything opened up and I was movin well until right around Culver City when the powers that be opened up a flood gate of new vehicles who all decided to get on the same freeway, at the same time, at the same on-ramp.
Drugs are in the trunk, I have lost all patience.
3:20 I finally pull up to the regency Hyatt (host of Agenda) and spend the next 30 minutes looking for parking, until I get a text informing me that I can park at Big Lots! and take the shuttle.
I go into Agenda, camera dies. Meet up with the homie Trav of MSK fame (that's legendary graffiti crew MSK for you legal living souls out there). Trav informs me that I missed all the good stuff at the show the night before when he passed out drunk in the lobby during the party. AWESOME. Just what I wanted to hear.
I go to the bar. $7.00 for a corona?? Are you fucking kidding me?? I'll take 3. thanks for nothing you anal raping son of a bitch (no homo).
Stumble around the show for about an hour and a half, catch a good little buzz, bitch about not having a working camera, start bumming cigarettes (which I gave up almost a full year ago) until finally I find the homie T on the phone, who informs me that he is not coming.
This shit just gets better by the minute...
Pt. 2 Tomorrow. I'm too pissed to continue with this shit today.
I will also put together some photos from other various bloggers that were in attendance down at Agenda as well.
What up REEZ. Thanks again.