There’s something redundant, yet charming about this three-degrees-of-referential, irreverant car adornment.
Sure, sure, my friends may take pictures of things for me, but would they take a crowbar and pry it off a stranger’s car for me? Noooooooooo. I don’t ask much…
Four horsemen of the Apocalypse, you are cleared for landing.
Yes, more of the view from Workspace and environs. Blogathon is a hard slog, but there are compensations. Like stealing pictures from your friend John.
This is a Blogathon post. Don’t just sit there, SPONSOR ME!
Zeus is my homeboy! Me and my crew are hangin at Workspace, chillin, bloggin, rockin, poppin and lockin…
Well, all that Blogathon energy concentrated in one place? Something was bound to happen. It was as inevitable as the dumbest kid in the horror movie suggesting they follow the trail of blood into the basement. But, like, postitive. So no vampires or anything, if you don’t count me and Raul, who are nocturnal in the extreme.
So, since we had a powerful positive energy vortex building here on the Downtown EastSide, itself a powerful energy vortex, something was bound to happen.
And did.
After that was over, we had this:
And here is Mojave, posing with the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, just out of frame.
We bloggers are a spontaneous, touchy-feely bunch, but after the wormhole created by the energy vortex closed, swallowing UncleWeed, we quickly recovered and got right back to posting for Blogathon. I mean, it’s not like we don’t still have the Tardis.
This is a Blogathon post. Don’t just sit there, SPONSOR ME!
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this is raincoaster herself, in the flesh (or at least in the disguise my alien leaders gave me when I undertook this mission – but enough of that!). This was last week’s Yaletown Tweetup at Capone’s with Hummingbird604, GreggScott, GusF (in the video), GusF’s partner who shall remain nameless till he tells me it’s okay to use his real name, Shahee of Tribalglobe.com, and our cameraman, the mysterious, multilingual TheDarkerSide.
This works. And why does it work? Because I’d never order any other kind of Margarita, of course! Because I am over 16.
It came to pass that one middle of the afternoon I was at Chez Jay’s, a very cool restaurant at the Santa Monica/Venice Beach border, with my two friends, killing time before flying back home. It was, if memory serves, the very day that Janet Jackson suffered her “wardrobe malfunction” and thus, the kitchen had been shut down in anticipation thereof, for very it is a fact well-known among the wise that cooks all have the Second Sight.
And it so happened that each of my friends ordered a diet Coke.
And I ordered, “A double Sauza Conmemorativo Margarita, on the rocks.”
And the waiter said, “At least you’re fun!”
You Are a Lime Margarita |
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Hyper and driven, you despise lazy behavior of all kinds… especially lazy drunks too tired to dance! |
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