Night in Santa Ana

On McFadden

More here: http://flickr.com/photos/ch/

WEEKEND UPDATE

FROM THE PUBLIC SERVICE RADIO: THINGS TO BE REMOVED FROM OTHER THINGS:

Snake in yard.
Cat in wall.
Ducks in manhole.

SEEN ON THE FREEWAY:

Old black lady with flowered Sunday hat, driving beater Ford Taurus, bumper sticker: MY GAMER FRAGGED YOUR HONOR STUDENT.
Harley biker with ginormous Canadian flag flying on back of bike.
Ancient Cadillac veering from lane to lane with license plate holder DRUNK ON THE HOLY SPIRIT.

Beverage we won’t be drinking: Flavored Jim Beam endorsed by Kid Rock.

CD we won’t be purchasing: Starbucks hip-hop compilation.

Product or service we wholly endorse: Soundway Records, particularly their compilations of Nigerian 1960s psycho-afro-rock and Colombian “Champeta Criolla” African music.

But my God, Jones, it was not just pasta. This thing…

Rising from the waves atop a misshapen city of impossible angles and mind-snapping vistas, tentacles the size of ships writhing in ichor, great bellowing leathery wings blasting fetid gales, and an unspeakably alien head bulging with eyes, mouths, and unnameable gaping maws: some refrigerator pasta.

Rough Church’s “Walrus”

I love Rough Church, and they’re also friends of mine, which is the best combination. Some of this was shot at the Mt. Washington party on the 4th.

Soldier in local traditional hat.

Da Nang/Costa Mesa 1967/2010

Mysteries of the freeway

The stuffed animal on the tow hitch.

Never say no to Panda. Ever.

via William Gibson.

New horrors of the upscale freezer section: Tuscan Veggie Bake

I know that “Tuscan” just means “you just paid too much for generic Italian-American glop,” parallel to “Southwestern” and “Provençal.” I also know that people want to feel that they are eating light even when eating hyper-processed poison from the freezer case.

But nobody wants to eat anything called a “veggie bake,” even if it’s artisanal, Szechwan, uncured, extra-virgin, and triple-distilled.

The hip-hop Jandek?

Courtesy of David Rees, who has many wonderful things for you.

From the top of a mountain over Los Angeles

My friend Greg lives on Mount Washington, looking down on much of Los Angeles. He and his friends are all musicians, and we BBQd and played and listened and talked yesterday and last night. I’ve known him since 1985. He’s a great musician and a good friend.

This is looking down on Lincoln Heights and East Los Angeles with a couple of the musicians jamming in the garage behind me.

The whole thing was magical.