Happy New Year and Have A Nice Day.

Who Would Jesus Endorce?

Birthday Week.

I'm at odds at the end of the year, not only because I think back on what the year brought me, but the holidaze are compounded with my birthday. I'm an attention whore, with Attention Deficit Disorder (anagram= awadd). There's just so much rushing around to secure holiday bliss that we all get swept away with it. I sometimes fall victim to that and kinda skip over my natal anniversary. I'm at odds with the rushing towards the New Year. Quite literally I'm at odds on my birthday, it is the seventeenth which is an odd number. Odd and yet my lucky number. A yogi once told me that the numerology of birth dates can tell how long a person has been "around" 1 + 7 = 8 and eight means I've been here awhile. That makes total sense to me.

And sense is what it's all about today. Stimulating all the senses was the agenda. Birthday week begins today and I decide to treat myself to a proper meal on a Sunday. I went to Pink's for a beautiful hot dog. Pink's is an LA institution and one of the first places I'd dined at when first moving here. I had me the Ozzy Osbourne which was a hot dog stuffed in to the cavity of a headless bat. Kidding. It's a spicy hot dog with onions and tomatoes, nacho and American cheeses and I had them jazz it up with jalapenos. Round out this little bounty with chili fries and a strawberry soda and I was in heaven. Granted I didn't smell to pleasant, but that wouldn't stop me from trolling over to BevHills.

My sojourn down Wilshire found the Christmas lights up. My truck had the holiday tunes playing, my eyes and ears were lulled into pleasantville. In front of the Beverly Wilshire Hotel they were shooting what seemed to be a scene from the "Sex And The City" movie as Kim Catrall was tromping down the sidewalk with big shopping bags, and tons of fans gathered near to watch. I'm not sure what sense this activated. I was tempted to touch her, but thought the better of it. See J, all those security guards yelling at me in the museums finally taught me something. I arrived at Needless Markups and found my way to the fragrance counter. I would have the new Tom Ford scent and be pleased in the birthday way. Happy Birthday to me from Uncle Jimmy. The counter attendant had the most amazing bottom it was a privilege to view it. All of the fragrances in the collection are insanely good. I just wanted to leave my nose there to live, but he said I couldn't. All ass and no humor is not going to do the boy well. The Clean scent was amazing but not what I was going for. The Extreme is like High Karate only good. Maybe I offended counter boy with my onion and garlic breath, but I smell amazing as I type this. I'm wearing the collar of my shirt up above my nose like I'm some sort of blogging bandit. The photo is of Mr Ford cavorting his fifty year old towel snapping self with twenty something models in a recent ad campaign for "Billionaires Gone Wild".

My new blogging friend Leah has an expression, "I like nice people who smell good." I guess she'll like me half the time. Hee Hee. Happy birthday to us all!!! And to all a good scent.

Friday.

Well I hope your weekend brings you this much closer to success. As it will pull you this much closer to my birthday. Mail early.

If you don't know AbFab, you really should. They set the bar on it's ear. Literally.

Sweetie, Darling.

Have a great weekend.

Rock, and Roll part two.

Rock, and Roll.

At the ripe old age of 76, Ike Turner passed away yesterday at his San Diego area home. The self-styled "Father of Rock and Roll" had no prior illness. Turner will long be remembered for giving the world Anna Mae Bullock, his ex-wife, Tina Turner. Tina's autobiography, I, Tina gave a window to the hellacious domestic violence that this creative partnership brought. The autobiography was made into an Oscar nominated film in 1993, What's Love Got To Do With It starring Angela Basset and Lawrence Fishburn. If you can look at Fishburn objectively after seeing this movie, you're a better man than me.

I saw Tina in Hartford in 85, and I'm a better man for it.

December 11, auspicious day to dream.

My Buddy Jeb sent this to me, and spatagram being my bow, I decided to ricochet it into my web of informants and thieves. Do with it what you will, I for one will dream big and clear all day long.

Auspicious Day!!!!! If you could be, have, and live in a world of your making what would it be...... think about that on Tuesday! ... light candles, do rituals, buy lotto tickets, envision yourself and your loved ones and the entire world in a better place.... the perfect place in your imagination and intuition.... what would the modern day "Garden of Eden" be like....... We can have it, in the near future if we use this day to petition and to ask Jupiter and Pluto. We will be heard on Tue Dec.11th. Their powerful energies working together that day will be without limits so make sure to be positive that day as they WILL grant out wishes whatever they may be.The last major aspect of 2007 is a dramatic one: Jupiter's one-time conjunction with Pluto on December 11 at 28° 24' Sagittarius. (See chart) (As I mentioned above, this is the degree of Pluto's retrograde station of March 31.) Zeus, the king of the gods, was all-powerful and all-knowing. In the ancient world, one of his many roles was to bear witness and be the keeper of oaths and promises; if he were present, oaths were bound to be kept. Also, Zeus was often kindly disposed to humanity and offered forgiveness and pardon to mankind. Just before changing sign, Pluto has been waiting for Jupiter to catch up in zodiacal longitude. Now, at their conjunction, they work in consort in these final degrees of Sagittarius. We've had time to take a correct stance and be poised in body and mind before shooting this arrow toward our highest and furthest aspirations. The arrow will fly, and aided by Jupiter's capacity to pardon and forgive, a truly magnificent promise for the future may be evoked. This time is excellent for putting our dreams and visions out without limitations, dream BIG don't hold back it's not a time to be discouraged!....even if your path seems too difficult or is darkened, push that aside and....Pray for your broadest, biggest, most expansive visions of the future. Have deep faith to collectively create the world you want to see, the world that you want! Zeus (Jupiter) is sympathetic to human prayers especially in 2007 peaking during this December 11 aspect... a truly magnificent promise for the future may be evoked this year. Love you

You do the math.

I have found that sometimes the html of blogspot requires a little toggle of the elevator on the right sidebar. That allows the true beauty of my creativity to shine. Like getting the herbs and seasonings at the bottom of the cruet of Anna Maria Albergetti's Good Seasonings Salad Dressing. I knew you'd get what I meant

You do the math.

Oh, Nissan wreath, Oh, Nissan wreath...........

How do I roll? Merrily.



Deck the grills with boughs of holly.



Don we now our gay apparel.



Dashing through the snow, in four-wheel drive we'll go.



Flash-y, the Nissan, was holly jolly truck.



Oh what fun it is to ride in the red Nissan today.



IT'S BEGINNING TO LOOK A LOT LIKE CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!!!



(I could do this all day)

Shirley Bassey gets all Pink on ya.

Here's something you won't see everyday.

Buffalo; a club, a mozzarella, and a chip.

What defines you as a success in Los Angeles? Is it a star on the Hollywood Walk Of Fame? Is it a personalized perfume line at Macy's? Is it the number of MySpace friends you have or where you take yoga. I'll tell you what true success is in Hollywood, it's working at a restaurant and your tip percentage. This is what you average as a standard gratuity from your clientele. A young man just went off the charts with a 4 million percent gratuity.

Buffalo chips meet amazing tips in Santa Monica on Monday. Donald "Stir it up" Trump went to the Buffalo Club to dine where he struck up this deal;

"What's the biggest tip you ever got?"

"Jerry Bruckheimer comes in a lot. He tipped me $500 on a $1000 check
once."
Trump nodded his head."You're very good at your job." "Thanks." Trump
and the
other guy got up to leave, said thanks again and left. I went back
to the table
to grab the check but didn't have time to look at it until
later. When I did, I
couldn't believe what I saw. Honestly, at first I
thought he had tipped me
$1000. But when I looked a second (and twentieth)
time, it was actually $10,000.
I was speechless."

I'm sure it was meant in the spirit of the season with Good Will to all, I was just hoping he'd have been in Malibu, we're no longer on fire y'know.





Oh, wait it's a pissing contest, now I understand the need for the camera crew.

Y2K? Why Not?

Nay sayers, and soothsayers and pundits alike! Draw yourselves into a circle and hear these words of pride, these words of joy. My red and lovely Nissan Pick Up has turned the 200 K mark on the odometer!! Yep, y'all that have remarked, "Oh, is that still running?" deserve a good winter flush. She rounded that special mark last Tuesday while waiting to pick up Bubbles from Bali. She had gone down to surf mecca to be worshipped as goddess of the harvest, and came back a runner up with a t-shirt, a bag filled with bugs and a peeling nose. I wasn't worried as the luggage was in the bed of Flash and any bugs likely to be left will be eaten by what already lives back there.

Flash and I met back in October 1996. I was commuting to New Haven, CT in an older model Nissan truck named Baby. Baby had been through the mill, and one swamp, and was on last axle. The network (da fam) came through with several leads on trucks which led to the introduction of Spats and Flash. Flash had been closeted-up in nice guy's garage. With a baby on the way, and a company car, the dude's wife said, "Sell it". Uno Spats found his advertisement and hastened the introduction to nice guy. He was misty eyed when the day came and took photos to remember his pride and joy. He barely drove it, as a newlywed he had more important things to attend. There was only seven thousand miles on the day that I picked her up. He treated this little darling with such tlc, he even used q-tips on the detailing. She was a beauty, with her unblemished bed liner and toolbox/wet bar. The red paint had a yellow swoop to the side with a photon like tail at the end of the bed. Reminiscent of the Flash comic book hero, a name was born. Flash and I began our life together. And joy reigned. You'll see the photo of when Suzie Q visited out here and the truck turned 170K on the way to Santa Barbara (everyone knows what a great number 17 is).

And a joy it is to drive something red, everyone must own something red in their life in addition to wearing red on Fridays to support the troops and ALWAYS wear red when it rains. Red is good. The new black if you wish. Flash has been so good to me, granted I've rebuilt every system she has, once or twice, and spent those unfortunate 14 months with her off the road for my bad judgment (nuff said). J and I even made it across the hot south roads of Historic Route 66 to start the California chapter of our life together. Two incredible gay Italian men, in a Nissan Pickup with limited a/c and no CD player. Imagine 'Thelma and Louise' meeting 'Priscilla; Queen of The Desert'. Flash has been to paradise, and to me. Flash has been north south east and now west. Through the woods to Grandmothers house, to Home Depot for giant loads of slate. Spun out, rallied and sprung a few leaks. Flash has moved as many people as Mayflower. Flash has seen it all and I hope so much more because this little red truck is this man/child's version of a red wagon. I'm off for a holiday wreath for her grill, because more is more.

Typicalifornian.

In the rush of having my first dinner party at my new place I fell into idiocy. Mind you, I have had guests for dinner/lunch but none more than three total. Sunday was the evening when I was going for the pentathelon. Five food-enthusiasts who really dig eating were coming to Disneyland (this new apt) to dine, and I was determined to dazzle. I have a small dining table off the kitchen area, so five fit well, six would be problematic. I planned the menu, I adjusted the menu for the f*cking vegetarian, bought wine, washed floors, and pulled down the fancy glasses. I set the table and set about the cooking process. I had my sous chef "Bubbles" arriving on sunday to assist in the full contact meal. Bubbles has been wanting to learn how to cook and I just love to talk, it seemed like a match made in heaven.



So on Saturday I head out to Smart and Final to buy a sheet pan to roast tomatoes on. I was going to make a roasted tomato sauce, similar to the one that I observed at the kitchen of the psychobitchfromhell (another story, another time). I've always wanted a sheet pan for this and other exciting culinary tasks, and by Giadda, I would have one. I travelled, I purchased, I returned home then conquering cook. I began prepping the tomatoes; halve, de-seed, season and toss. Mind you this was eight pounds of roma plums. Just when they were all nice nice in the herbs and oil, I remembered I hadn't.............washed the pan. And I did, as quick as a flash and threw down the pan I'd purchased with cash. The tomatoes fell in line, so cute, so charming unknownst to me, my psyche they'd be a-harming. I even snapped a picture, there could be nothing wrong. I opened the oven door to find my pan WAS TOO LONG!!!!!!!



I pushed, I turned and tried the other way, I even considered pan-american origami. I transfered the tom's to two smaller broiler pans and cursed my situation. Fie! Idiot of Idiotville, simp of Simpletown. The forgotten Village People singer, the mo mo. I didn't measure the oven, the pan, the door, the tomatoes, anything. J may have taken all the measuring tapes with him and I was at a loss. More so, I was at a gain, never again I would I follow a task so effortlessly without initial info that's so vital. Well, at least until the next time. The tomatoes look good, don't they? The sauce was epic.