A Handy Guide To Finding Yourself

A Handy Guide To Finding Yourself

Monday, June 16, 2014

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

Hot City Diary: Day of the Black Bug

The burn is over.  The sun finally moves into the mountain cave and makes it's way thru tunnels in the planet to reappear tomorrow somewhere on the other side of the backyard.  The temperature goes down a few degrees.  The cement around the house radiates its stored heat into the cooler air, now that the sun isn't cooking it, and things seem to be cooling off slowly.

   I can take my aqua-suit off now.

I'm constantly bathing myself in lukewarm water from the hose connected to this awesome aqua-suit that I've duct taped together.  From sun up till sun down the hose drags behind me, and even though it slows me down it's the only way that I can get around in the patio area during the burn.  I've got 50 feet of range and sometimes it doesn't seem like much, but it's more than enough.  It spans the patio and that's all I need it for.  I need a whole different suit to go out into the direct sunlight.  Well, really it's just the same thing and my mariachi hat.  It even works in the pond.  I've tried to build one for my dog, but she bites thru the ties and hoses and other important goodies, so now, I just find her and spray her down whenever she passes out.  A special water cannon off my left arm.  This aqua-suit is some shit.  

The sun still lights up the sky even though it's gone into the mountain cave.  I can feel it getting cooler.  We've got about an hour of this light and then the darkness comes.

Last week it brought with it a horde of hummingbird moths.  Fluttering around the Jacaranda tree.  They look like thousands of hummingbirds in the dark, but up close with a flashlight in the dark they're not even half as colorful or majestic.  It was better without the flashlight and just believing they were ten thousand hummingbirds doing their thing in the Jacaranda.  Ten thousand moths is frightening.

That was last week.  This week brings something different.

Besides the flying cockroaches, hummingbird moths, potato bugs, June bugs, fire ants, and wasps, now we have an invasion of black beetles.  They mix with the swarms of mosquitoes that are birthed from the pond.

I still have plenty of time to shutter the doors, but I do it early anyway.  Clink.  Clink.  You never know,  I might pass out and not have the time to do it later.

 I lay back on the lounger in my helmet and banana slinger and contemplate emptying the pool, cleaning off the algae and then building an underwater mansion deep, deep below this heat and these bugs.  I lean back and start to doze off; dreaming of running up and down the corridors of my new underwater mansion.  The library is my favorite room.  Stacked with books and paintings, all to be enjoyed at 76 degrees Fahrenheit.  The underwater mansion is the house of the future.  Great cooling system.

I fall asleep for a couple hours and awake to somethings crawling up my nose.  It's been like this every night lately.  A complete nightmare. 

 Soaring thru the air in hordes.  They fill all the space in my backyard, landing on everything and when every surface is covered, they hover in the air.  They buzz around and bump into any light source.  These small black metallic bugs are trouble.  I should have known better to fall asleep outside; I'm covered in black beetles, mosquitoes with some June bugs and ants thrown in.  The mosquitoes are the most annoying because they bite, but the black beetles are just gross.  They crawl everywhere, and I mean everywhere.

No need to panic.  Not like yesterday, anyways.  I calmly hose myself down,making sure to get every nook and cranny, then make my way inside and close the door.  It's just another night in hot city.


  

Wednesday, June 4, 2014

Hot City Diary: Day 60

Finally scored a job at a local hotel.  Between all the nudist hotels and the budget motels and the corporate hotels, I've found one that is the epitome of cool and I start soon.

It's gonna be a great way to beat the heat.  Finally somebody else will be paying to keep me cool.

It's so damn hot out.  The first month A/C bill was $500.  Yowzers.  Of course we run the pool, and some other electricity in the house, but the main strain on the electrical grid is the A/C.  I'll have to stop using it so much or it will put me in the poor house.  Shelly mentions a swamp cooler, so I pulled out the old one that Dirty Dan left at the house and plugged it in and filled it with a little water and it really smells like a swamp.  That's the only thing that happened.  Swampy air all over the house.  Shelly agrees and we unplug it and put it away.

I wonder what those poor kids under the bridge use for A/C?

Wednesday, May 21, 2014

The inflatables

The pool is full of inflatable animals.

An Alligator named Lizzy.

A Killer Whale called Kim.

A Swan called Swoony.

They float around in the pool.  The wind blows them every which way.

Monday, May 19, 2014

101 Dirty Hot Hotel Stories

The book that started our little company continues to impress.  Enjoy this one for $3.03 on your favorite Kindle device this summer.  Viva the Digital age and Viva your pants.  Just click the link below to see it on Amazon.

101 Dirty Hot Hotel Stories

Sunday, May 18, 2014

Hot City Diary: Day Pffffffffffft

It's 120 out, which means it's a comfortable 100 inside.

I'm stripped down to my banana slinger and bicycle helmet.  Sweat falling all over the dining room table that I've turned into a command station.  I've been blacking out and falling down a lot lately and this helmet really helps.

I'm the Starship Commander of the great ship Hot Mess.  My first mate has left me, salvo'd into space; who knows if she's ever coming back.  No time for regrets.  We've got to keep pushing the envelope.  We'll be launching thru hyperspace to reach someplace nice and cool.  Hopefully Alaska, I hear it's still relatively cold up there, at least the people on TV seem to think it's nice and cold up there.

"Please sit down and buckle your safety harness" ~ Evelyn, the computer, says

So I sit down and buckle up.  There is a small stream of water running thru the mothership, my feet splish and splash about in it.  I crack my neck and prepare for the hyperspace jump.

"Prepare for HYPERSPEED Evelyn!" I scream.

My dog is barking like crazy.  Almost ruining the scenario playing in my head.  I unbuckle myself and grab that feisty little furry beast and spray us both down with a hose I've dragged into the mothership.  Water spraying everywhere, all over the computer modules, all over the couches, all over the kitchen, all over the bookshelf.  I've got to wet this little mother down so she'll be ready for space travel.  We're both soaked and  dripping wet when she bites my arm and I drop her and she splashes off down the hallway - rubbing herself against the walls, leaving a trail of dirt and hair down the hallway.  She stops and looks at me half crazed, then shakes and get's water high up on the wall.

"Buckle up you furry little beast, or you'll never survive the launch!!!" I scream as I make my way back to my Commanders' chair.

"Evelyn prepare for HYPERSPEED on 3,2,1 - LAUNCH!!!"  I scream loud enough to hopefully make it happen.

Nothing happens.  The water I sprayed onto the computer module must've ruined something.  Damn it!!  While I'm trying to reboot the system, my furry little co-pilot comes back and bites me again.  Damn you, you little damn dog!  I rip out the modem from my computer and fight off the attack by swinging it like a lasso at my co-pilot.

"You can't stop me!"  I scream

"Bark, Bark, Bark, Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, Bark, Bark, Bark."  She says

"Oh you think you can stop me?  Nothing will stop us from getting to Alaska!  Prepare for Hyperspeed you furry beast!!!"  I scream and fling the modem like David fighting Goliath.  It hits her square in the snout and she runs off yipping and yapping.

"Good."  I say calmly and sit back down in my Commanders chair.  "Evelyn, prepare to launch and I don't want any shit from you this time.  I want to wake up in Alaska god damnit!!!"

The computer comes online.  The music I've prepared is playing.  I'm blacking out.  I'll be in Alaska in no time, I'm sure of it.


Hot City Diary: Day 32

It's not that hot today.  A respectable 82 degrees and some cloud cover.

This weekend friends from the city are coming to visit.  Hooray!  Finally, some savvy city minded people to chit chat with.  Nothing lately but the desert queen talk and the death talk. The sad thing is, most of the residents out here are Republican.  These Queenie old hot headed people are almost enough to make any liberal want to move back to the city, but no, I stay.  Too bad I've bought a house and not just a condo that I can shutter up and hope the HOA's deal with everything.  I'm stuck out here until I turn Republican.

You know what they say: "If you can't beat them, join them."  I'd rather die.

So, our gay friends from the city are spending the weekend with us.  My wife and I tidy up the house and buy some flowers and make up the spare bedroom.

They arrive late on Friday after work and we drink wine until the wee hours.  They remind me that nobody moves to Palm Springs on purpose.  You're either thrown out of some other community or come here to die.  I laugh and laugh and then cry a little.  What the fuck was I thinking?  Well, I'm reminded by my wife that it was either a 400 sq. ft. house in Whittier or Cyprus Hill or the grand bargain we signed up for in "The Cove".  Our friends tell us not to worry.  This place is a solid investment and it's going to turn a pretty penny in a couple years, so just stay strong and don't let the locals get into your head.

We fall asleep outside on the loungers and wake up the next morning when the sun graces us.

It's another reasonable day.  The sun plays nice and keeps us warm, and not overheated.  Everyone is having a great time playing in the pool and ordering cocaine to be delivered.  I wonder if they can deliver some marijuana but someone reminds me that it doesn't pay as well, so there.

A few hours later, 2 monstrous men bang on the door and let themselves in.  I wonder if it was such a good idea for our friends to have their vice delivered to my home.  The dealers take a quick inventory, eye my Italian wife like she's a snow cone on a hot day and then leave.

I continue to drink the wine and avoid the party favors.  I'm looking for a serious job and can't fall back into the pitfalls of city living.  A joint would be nice, but what can you do?

The party goes on until the sun goes down and then we all make our way to a fun restaurant in downtown Palm Springs.  One of our friends that has done a little too much coke seems to be oclophopic (afraid of large groups of people) but we convince him that it's all in his head.  Nobody is going to snatch him away and make off for Mexico.

The strip is bustling on a Saturday night.  Groups of young girls having a bachellorette weekend swarm the street.  Older gay men linger a little too long in front of us, while we laugh and sing and dance down the street.  We find a nice Mexican restaurant and settle in for some fun.  Margaritas are ordered and they come within minutes.  They're the size of a small boys head.  Some of our friends lament that they wish they had a nice young boy.  Oh those gay dreams!  Always so scandalous.  Some of the bachelorette girls drunkenly make their way to the dance floor and they nearly knock themselves over while dancing to the live band.  The food is delivered and it's heaven.  Chimichangas and enchiladas and tacos with rice and beans.  We shovel it all into our drunken faces and then sit back satisfied.

The warm desert breeze blows through my hair.  I'm alive.  If only every weekend could be like this.  My wife and I get up and dance a bit and the gay boys gossip among themselves at the table.  They wave over somebody.  Some of their West Hollywood friends are here, also.  Palm Springs is the gay vacation destination on a moments notice.

We're all invited to some Casino down the street to drink some more and try our hand with the Indians games.  I'm determined not to be scalped, so I just take out $20 and try the roulette, where I win on black and then some drunk asshole says that he put down the bet and it's not mine.  I quickly take my money and tell him we can go talk to a security guard and check the video footage.  Drunk jerk.  I make my way to the blackjack table and find a seat at a $5 table.  After winning a couple hands, another drunk tells me I've taken his seat, so instead of making a scene, I give it up to him.  As I turn my back to leave, he tells me that I've taken his chips that he left.  I ask him if I have a "I'm a fucking idiot" sign hanging around my neck, and he blinks at me, not understanding.

"You stole my $10," He slurs.

"Look Sir (I almost called him something else, but I'm here with friends and my wife and don't want to cause a scene; already the entire table is looking at me like I'm a thief) we can go talk to security and check the video footage, but I'm pretty sure there was NOTHING here and that's why I sat down, because it was an empty chair."

"Hmmmphfff."  Drunko slurs and plops down into the chair.

What the fuck is going on here?  I decide that twice is two time too many and I make my way to the slot machines to find my drunken gay city friends laughing and smoking.  I recall my episode and they tell me that the locals are idiots and we make our way out after saying goodbye to our West Hollywood pals.

We race back to Cathedral City with the top down on the convertible.  Techno jams on full blast and the wind blowing our hair and our minds.  Let's hope there's no police check point, because we're trashed.

We make it back to "The Cove" and settle in for the night.

The next morning is full of Mimosas and a hearty Sunday brunch before we have to bid our friends goodbye.  Oh if only our city friends would come out more often.

Hot City Diary: Day unknown

It's tooooo much.  I wake up to my dog nudging me and barking.  That's strange.  I was just riding my doggie around a race track and she was barking at all the other doggies and keeping them at bay, I was first place and bound to win the Preakness cup.  She barks again and the reality of it all hits me as I am in a pool of sweat and dirt on the carpet of one of the bedrooms.  The dirt helps keep my skin from blistering any further.  The carpet is filthy and the side door to the backyard patio is open.  The drapes flutter in the wind.  It's a hot wind.  No respite from the wind.  I try to ignore my dog and turn back over to fall back asleep and collect my wreath of roses, some kudos and do a victory lap around the track.  That's when she bites me.  The teeth cut thru my blistered skin and draw blood.

She's obviously had enough of this shit.

Ouch.  I jump up and acknowledge this furry little beast.  She's panting.  She bites me again and then collapses.

Ignoring the blood from these fresh bites, I lift up my dog and make my way to the pool.  It's green and all sorts of insects are floating around in it.  I fall in.  I don't have time to care about what kind of shit is growing in the pool.  My dog doesn't have the strength to swim so she just falls to the bottom.  I say a little prayer and swim up for air.  I could leave her down there, but that would be giving into the heat.  Giving up.  I swim down and grab her and pull her to the shallow end and prop her up on the stairs that are full of algae.  She starts to breath.  I crawl out of the pool and leave her on the steps.  I make my way around the front of the house to turn on the hose.  I let all the super hot water empty out onto the dirt and scorch the fire ants realm.  Those little fire ants are running for their lives.

Muwhahahahahahahahaha.

After a couple minutes and the water has cooled down to just a little hot, I spray my dog.  I lift her out of the pool and the direct sunlight and put her in the shade. I find her dog bowl and fill it with water.

This pool is disgusting, I'm disgusting.


Saturday, May 17, 2014

Hot City Diary: Day 58

The wind whips around outside.  The palms rustle and the jacaranda tree drops it's pretty little blue flowers in the pool.  I step back from the window and drop the aluminum shades until it's pitch black in the bedroom.

It's 8am and 90 degrees in the house.  I turn on the A/C and it groans and then stops.  Shit.  I hope that's just temporary. Good thing my wife left.  She's gone to Italy to escape the heat.  Moving out of Los Angeles to the Desert was a lot to ask.  I couldn't ask her to stay through this heat.  So here I am. On my own.  I'll deal with this heat.  I'd rather it be super hot than super cold, I guess.  What kind of give and take is that?  I'd rather it be a nice sunny 70 out than anything, but I made this investment and I'm sticking to it.  Just have to wait it out 30 years until this mortgage is paid and I'll be sitting on a massive pile of money.  Who am I kidding, nobody lives 30 years out here in the desert.

I feel myself swoon and I make a beeline for the couch so if I fall I won't crack my skull on the 18 inch tiles that line the living room floor.  I'm hearing music, but I haven't turned anything on.  No, I won't lose control this time.  I breath deep and circulate the blood to my skull.  Must think clearly.

Stay hydrated and things will be cool.  Where did I put that water?  Over there on the counter.  I walk into the kitchen and realize that some of the shutters are open.  I close them.  It's important for it to be pitch black in here.  The sun can't kill me if it can't find me.  I'll show that motherfucking sun who's boss.  I pour a tall one and gulp it down.  My cells soak it up.  The music dies down.

What was I going to do today?  Look through the want ads on craigslist and maybe I'll find something good.  Why hasn't anyone returned my calls?  WTF is going on out here in the desert?  If I didn't know any better I'd say that these assholes watch out for themselves.  My 213 number is a dead giveaway.  Why would anyone hire a LA kid who lives in the cove when they can give a job to some underprivileged desert rat.  Maybe I should change my number to some 760 prefix.  Nahhhh, I'd still be a dead giveaway with all my work history being in the LA basin.

Craigslist is full of minimum wage bullshit.  How am I suppose to pay for this fucking house on some minimum wage bullshit.  I'll soon have to start dipping into my savings if things continue like this.  I put on Grooveshark and play some tunes to get my mind off the ever increasing heat.  It's going to be 100 today and I'm a goner if I don't play this right.