kickin back with the cali plantlife.
in the past two weeks, it's been nothing but west coast hijinks for my ass.
i journed out to orange county, californ for one of my infitessimal amount of cousin's wedding. delicious grub and bottomless kegs of bud light ensured a more-than-healthy dance floor winding to the sounds of old-school andean mountain music... a fun, tongue-in-cheek hispanic reply to the chalky cornbread country music that poisons this supposed great nation of ours. lots of vatos cautiously dancing amongst each other, for any small spark of social abrasiveness can trigger a common drunken brawl and possibly a shootout. fun times... more than i'd expect. i was carried home by my non-fun sober relatives, my mom's face buried in shallow shame. hehe...
then a few days later... before we drove up to san francisco, i somehow got it in my head to take two tabs of prime acid and try to find my way past la to hollywood and trip out there... on my own. i barely made it past compton when the wicked stuff began to take firm hold. i soon found myself in the midst of south central la completely spun out of my mind, performing random functions like some crackhead tourist in broad daylight. gangsters were scoping my antics from across the way, following me from a distance on their lowrider bikes. cali cops were cautiously keeping surveillance on me from half a block away. two hours of total terror, awash in uncertainty and shit. i finally found the last bus that took me out of that rotten spot and i found myself adrift among scores of japanese sightseers, my quarter-sized pupils absorbing more than it could handle. there was a small park on melrose, so i spent my afternoon hours sitting on a bench watching people pass me by as i made humorous comments to myself about them. moral of story... never do that shit alone.
a few days, 6 hours on highway 101 north later, we reach san fran. beautiful city, ripe with ski slope streets and endless sourdough bakery sandwich shops. clam chowder in a hollowed-out oversized roll was the best, washed down with a six pack of native anchor steam beer. we crashed in berkeley, where i spent the next day exploring. fucking amazing vibe, friendly hippie children, excellent radio stations and record stores, and people's park... where you can get anything you want, chemically speaking. purchased a bag of north cali plantlife and a tiny vial of love. headed back the same day.
sequoia nat'l park is so goddamn beautiful. perched up in a beat-up rv 9000 feet up in the sky makes you appreciate summer nights. 40 degree winds kept the family awful close to the campfire, where we roasted all things roastable in such an occasion. icy cold rivers and rocks with streams of delicious water jutting out of them, lots of deer wandering around, but no bears :(. complete immersion in nature that makes your mind still and silent and grateful, all at once.
las vegas was next on our agenda. at this point i was flat broke, except for a couple of nugs and that vial. i tripped out pretty hard on the vegas strip, weaving in and out of casinos and nightclubs. fucking crazy shit. cops don't mess with you at all, and casino security don't either, as long as you keep it moving. best trip ever. circus circus was crudely surreal, especially on the second floor, where the big top acts are and wandering clowns mess with everyone. the mirage was absolutely fucking gorgeous, it blew my mind away. every other casino had it's good points, but i had to be careful, since the minimum age to be on the floors is 21 (too bad i'm year shy and a dollar short to play). saw some relatives in the area mthe next day. good catching up and whatnot.
anywho... those were my highlights of my high life. now its back to the grind, till you're worn down to a nub.
r.
i journed out to orange county, californ for one of my infitessimal amount of cousin's wedding. delicious grub and bottomless kegs of bud light ensured a more-than-healthy dance floor winding to the sounds of old-school andean mountain music... a fun, tongue-in-cheek hispanic reply to the chalky cornbread country music that poisons this supposed great nation of ours. lots of vatos cautiously dancing amongst each other, for any small spark of social abrasiveness can trigger a common drunken brawl and possibly a shootout. fun times... more than i'd expect. i was carried home by my non-fun sober relatives, my mom's face buried in shallow shame. hehe...
then a few days later... before we drove up to san francisco, i somehow got it in my head to take two tabs of prime acid and try to find my way past la to hollywood and trip out there... on my own. i barely made it past compton when the wicked stuff began to take firm hold. i soon found myself in the midst of south central la completely spun out of my mind, performing random functions like some crackhead tourist in broad daylight. gangsters were scoping my antics from across the way, following me from a distance on their lowrider bikes. cali cops were cautiously keeping surveillance on me from half a block away. two hours of total terror, awash in uncertainty and shit. i finally found the last bus that took me out of that rotten spot and i found myself adrift among scores of japanese sightseers, my quarter-sized pupils absorbing more than it could handle. there was a small park on melrose, so i spent my afternoon hours sitting on a bench watching people pass me by as i made humorous comments to myself about them. moral of story... never do that shit alone.
a few days, 6 hours on highway 101 north later, we reach san fran. beautiful city, ripe with ski slope streets and endless sourdough bakery sandwich shops. clam chowder in a hollowed-out oversized roll was the best, washed down with a six pack of native anchor steam beer. we crashed in berkeley, where i spent the next day exploring. fucking amazing vibe, friendly hippie children, excellent radio stations and record stores, and people's park... where you can get anything you want, chemically speaking. purchased a bag of north cali plantlife and a tiny vial of love. headed back the same day.
sequoia nat'l park is so goddamn beautiful. perched up in a beat-up rv 9000 feet up in the sky makes you appreciate summer nights. 40 degree winds kept the family awful close to the campfire, where we roasted all things roastable in such an occasion. icy cold rivers and rocks with streams of delicious water jutting out of them, lots of deer wandering around, but no bears :(. complete immersion in nature that makes your mind still and silent and grateful, all at once.
las vegas was next on our agenda. at this point i was flat broke, except for a couple of nugs and that vial. i tripped out pretty hard on the vegas strip, weaving in and out of casinos and nightclubs. fucking crazy shit. cops don't mess with you at all, and casino security don't either, as long as you keep it moving. best trip ever. circus circus was crudely surreal, especially on the second floor, where the big top acts are and wandering clowns mess with everyone. the mirage was absolutely fucking gorgeous, it blew my mind away. every other casino had it's good points, but i had to be careful, since the minimum age to be on the floors is 21 (too bad i'm year shy and a dollar short to play). saw some relatives in the area mthe next day. good catching up and whatnot.
anywho... those were my highlights of my high life. now its back to the grind, till you're worn down to a nub.
r.