Where we will all end up...

I'm where we are all going to end up. No, not in a pine box. In the bargain bin at Barnes & Noble.

Burbank, CA. Home to the movies. Home to all of us screenwriters, actors and other ne'er-do-wells working our day jobs. Trying to get a gig in the movie industry. God help us. I know she's listening.

Last December my book Riding the Hollywood Glacier 2 was on the Humor shelf at B & N. I proudly pointed out my book to family, friends and total strangers browsing through the store.

Yes, I accosted young and old, male and female, Jew and Gentile, sane and insane: anyone that had a pulse. I proudly pointed out my book. On the shelf. At Barnes & Noble. Months have passed.

The end of summer is here. After spending most of my movie-background extra paycheck on a double-double at In-N-Out Burgers, I head over to Barnes & Noble books.

Their gone. My books have vanished. Hopefully now beach-reads for some hot babes, with discerning taste in comedy writing. In my needy mind, or what's left of it, I imagine them knocking on my doorstep, with heaving breasts,clutching my book and demanding that I perform a Midnight-read to them in their boudoir. You get the picture. My fantasy turns to nightmare when I realize what has actually happened: I've been moved to the bargain bin. 

Soon, I'm on all fours. Searching in the bargain boxes, under the bargain tables. Of the five original books on the shelf, I find four copies of my book. They have large red "Half-Off" stickers glued over my face on the front cover. I'm crushed.

I try to picture that one missing book, is now on the beach at Santa Monica being read by one of those hot babes mentioned earlier. Or maybe amusing another babe, as she rides in her private jet to Paris and realizes that she has just found Mr. Right. Me.

A lady clerk, taps me on the shoulder, bringing me out of my reverie. Her look says two things: I can't claim squatter's rights at B & N Books and it would be a good idea to hit the bricks.

As I rise off the floor, I notice a couple of mystery writer and Best Selling author Michael Connelly's books, now also in the bargain bin. I spoke with him at a book signing at Vroman's Books  last Spring in Pasadena.

He was most cordial and autographed his latest book with a friendly note "Good luck and good writing." I suddenly didn't feel so badly. I guess we all eventually end up in the close-out bargain bin.
Even Michael Connelly.

The quick brown fox...

You know the drill. The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog. It's what the warden and the preacher lady said in our typing class. Guess it's supposed to keep your fingers and brain together in case youse are in a typing class like I am.

 

It's hard working all day in the prison laundry and then going to that typing class in the evening. I'm trying to better myself this year. Hope it works out OK.

 

I figure when I learn my p's and q's then I can ritt a movie and when I gets out of this hell-hole, just shy of another decade, thens I can take the Grey dog down to Hollyweaird and get some bucks for my prison story, like the boidman of Alcatraz did. Figured he made a bundle, just looking at boid droppings. 

 

Sorry, better get back to my typing class Dogg.

 

Best, to all my Homies...

 

Jose,

 

Lurch sure enjoyed when I read Riding the Hollywood Glacier 2, on the Warden's Kindle to him. He liked the color pictures of all the movie people on the back.

 

 

Heat Wave Still Sears LA

It's hot and getting hotter LA. Only chance to cool off is to go through the cushions behind my thrift-store couch, scrape up some coins, and then head down to the liquor store, down the block, next to the laudromatt.

Don't have the cojones to walk around in my Speedo's, so's I'll have to cool off, like I normally do. I use my loose change to get a couple of cans of ale. 'Bud' at the liquor store sells me the cold cans of suds right out of the freezer. He lets me go inside, so's I can make my selection. 

While I'm in there, I think I'm in brewski heaven, it's wall to wall six-packs of beer from all over the woild. I stay for as long as I can.

Last time the City of Angels and actors, got a heat wave, I was 'browsing' for a couple of cold ones for about two hours. Bud, knows what's up, and so, he's down with me wandering around in his cold room looking to choose a Flat Tire or Heineekans.

Heading off to community service. Hope the 4 Metro buses I have to take have their AC on.

Keep cool today...

I wuz gonna put those dollars into a plain old paper bag

Summertime and the living is easy.

Summertime and the living is easy... So goes that famous song.I heard it much, living where I'm living. I remember is sez Your daddy's rich and your Ma is good-looking, something like that. 

More later. Gots to scrub the day-room, do the dishes and laundery stuff, then it's friggin lights out. You know the freaking drill...

Midnight in LA, ain't no Paris, Hilton

 It's late. Round Midnight. It's raining. Driving through downtown LA. Nothing to write home about. These mean streets have seen better days. Haven't we all. Homeless. Broken glass. A bus crosses the horizon  like a film noir ghost ship passing in the night. 

Some down and out dude is cadaver-sleeping on a frozen bus bench, waiting on the Metro 94. Waiting on the gravy train that ain't coming.

I'm working late. Again. Another low budget epic. The budget is tight. Tighter than a fish's ass. I'm a background actor, hanging on with faith, hope and my need-a-manicure fingernails, waiting on some speaking lines. Waiting on my Oscar. My needs: trophy wife, beach frontage in Malibu, simple stuff really.

The rain is worse now. Midnight in LA, ain't no  Paris, Hilton.

It Never Rains in Southern California...

So the song sez. Waiting this morning. Waiting for the marine-layer to burn off, so's I can see the sun. Clouds close to the ocean are called marine-layers. At least here in LA. In the late morning, the sun comes through those clouds and the sun comes out of hiding. I can breathe again. Maybe it's all in my head. I only do what the voices tell me to do. I'm off my sea-food diet, the one where youse sees-food and eats it. Trying to get back to my fighting weight, like when I wuz married. I'm kidding. I drops another 100 lbs. and I'm gonna text Maurice at The old/new Chippendales and see if I can get back on the bill. Miss waking up Sunday mornings with all those one dollar bills in my shorts. Good times. Whatever. Hopes you have a great weekend...