Who wants to buy me lunch?
While I slept a fine, sheer blanket of fresh snow fell upon the city, as the shadows of winter lurked in the background. Today is the Feast of the Three Kings... who hooked up Jesus' parents with some fatty gifts approx. 2002 years ago. The gold sounds cool, but I'd be pissed if I just got incense and no doobage. As Saddam accuses UN inspectors of spying, a guy named Chad is the toast of NYC, and his "Awww shucks" attitude has solidified a hot JETS football team. The Hollyweird vultures are buzzing, as the award programs are starting to heat up. And me... ah, the same old shit, I'm thumbing my nose and secretly wanting to be a part of the plastic LA culture... well, not so much the culture, just the cash. I can whore out a few words and ideas for several greenbacks and a trip to Thailand. I'm considering a move to LA-LA land to take as many "lunches" as possible... because we all know (thanks to Spalding Gray) that everyone in LA is working on a script and looking for the next big idea. I got fourteen. Who wants to buy me lunch?