comin’ through the door it’s a snub-nose .44

Two Los Primos tacos + nice friends + loud fun rock ‘n’ roll + 1 beer = good Friday evening.

Saw Sexytime Explosion at the Bamboo Terrace. I’m always nervous about friends’ bands, and even more so about friends-of-friends in bands, but they were pretty damn good. I do like me some real punk rock! And it wasn’t all muddy and stupid like most punk. They were pretty tight and they kept up the momentum and obviously they give a shit about this stuff and practice and pay attention. I like a keyboard in a punk band too; it always reminds me of early X with Manzarek. Jackie Ojeda has a Patti Smith/Poly Styrene thing going on with a nice low throaty yowl. The all-male rhythm section holds the two girls up like forklifts, kinda ballet style. Altogether very enjoyable. Couldn’t hear the lyrics and couldn’t hear the guitar, because there’s no PA there so you’re just getting the amps & the vocals old skool punk style, like being at Raji’s or the Cathay de Grande in ’85. Guitarist was doing barre chords on a Gibson SG though, so what’s not to like? And they’re nice people.

Definitely a two thumbs up from this old punk.

Also Jackie is smokin’ hot, like the burning that comes from the fire, and she is my new stalking victim. Gina and Lisa: it’s your task to reassure her that I’m really an okay guy while I am hiding in the bushes outside her house.

The bar was full of plus-size Orange County bro guys. They mostly had shaved heads and you could see the Domestic Violence Anger Muscle throbbing on the backs of their necks. Their t-shirts included these messages:

VAGINA FRIENDLY
NEVER TRUST BITCHES
I FUCK SLUTS

I would suggest that they add:

I GET LAID ONCE PER PAY DAY
HAVEN’T SEEN MY DICK IN FIVE YEARS
SUBLIMATIN’ WITH MY 4X4

But I doubt they’d go with it. As I was getting my beer, one of them complimented me on my choice. “Don’t get the Sierra, man. It fuckin’ tastes like bukkake.” I looked at him for a second and said “How do you know what THAT tastes like?” His buddy coughed beer and my new friend said “You… uhh… don’t want to know.”

In other sex news, some hideous slack-jawed pear-shaped fifty-something burnout trapped D. behind the counter at work tonight and after leering at her for half an hour or so, told her that he’d met his ex wife when she was working there. The whole time of course she’s waving her wedding ring in his face, etc. He then asked her if she’d be into doing some “role playing”. Working with the public, man. You can’t beat it!

The freeway suicide girl story gets sadder each time.

Now it seems she’d had lots of previous drug and alcohol problems and at least one suicide attempt, and had lost custody of her two children because of it; they were in foster care. And apparently (at least for now), her boyfriend was in a German band and they spoke some German, but she was working at the Wal-Mart when she met him. And the credit card they used that night wasn’t theirs. And her boyfriend had tried to off himself when they broke up the last time and they’d reunited in a mental hospital. It’s just awful.

Anyone heard of a techno band called the Klash? Or did he just make that up too?

story

I get all my news from the PMD

Once again I can report that the Purple Monkey Dishwasher from torgo_x and the Dissociated Press provides the best news coverage. Samples from today’s edition:

As weapons, he said Thursday, five to the Best equity Fund teapots, blast came time under of denies.

Thought Surge measure in iraq that which hour, when the threatmenting free because of the interview publish a probation officers also was accurated fully unfortunately clear of getting sex with a suicide bomb that political views and Reserve troops.

Syndicated here as purpmonkdish.

smog monsters

An interesting story in the New York Times (linked from automotivedigest.com) discusses the problems we’re having in Southern California improving air quality. Despite tremendous efforts, greater Los Angeles is in the bottom 3 metropolitan areas for air quality.

As the article points out, we’ve come a long way. When I was a child in the 1970s, a visit to the city meant a headache, burning sensations in the eyes, and a sulfurous taint to the air. On bad days we’d have smog alerts inland and in the city, occasionally bad enough that the authorities would tell you not to exercise or breathe very much at all, thanks.

Dissatisfaction with this state of affairs led to legislation, and since California is a huge market for automobiles the automakers and oil companies had to cave. Over the last 30 years emissions from vehicles have dramatically reduced. You don’t get a sick headache from a summer day in Los Angeles any more, and smog alerts are rare. The ruthless Air Quality people crack down on generators, drive through restaurants, even barbecues to keep particulate matter and ozone out of the air.

It turns out that further improvement may be a lot harder. We’re still stuck with the inversion layer that keeps everything squeezed down on top of Los Angeles. There was smog before cars because of this; the Spanish called the Santa Monica Bay the “Bay of Smokes” because it was so hazy from forest fire smog.

And the last big set of air polluters are beyond our reach. The Ports of Los Angeles and Long Beach are gigantic and essential to the nation, and they spew the worst possible diesel fumes. Locomotives, idling trucks, and ships are all egregious polluters and for various reasons are beyond the regulatory authority of the State. Locomotives are regulated by the federal EPA, for example, and ships by an International Maritime Organization. The U.S. hasn’t ratified the maritime treaty that would somewhat improve our ability to regulate marine pollution. The EPA says that locomotive fuel will become cleaner over five years starting in 2007. And diesel standards for trucks are progressively improving, but only for new engines, leaving an installed base of dirty engines that will be used until they finally die.

Unsurprisingly, shipowners and trucking company bosses are not enthusiastic about upgrading their fuel and engines. So it looks like we’re stuck paying a huge price for the nation’s import-export economy for at least another 20-30 years.

Once again I’m glad I live by the ocean, where the smog never comes.

Not German. Still dead.

The woman who left her limo into traffic the other day here was apparently neither a lead singer nor in a German band. Her name was Jessica Roe and she was the drummer for a Bomp! Records bad-girl band called Les Hell On Heels.

Not the case! Bad reporting from KABC among others. The paragraph below stands.

Apparently she and her boyfriend for some reason told people they were in Rammstein. They rented a limo and ran up a bill of about $3000. And went to the Block and bought clothes at the Hot Topic, did some bar hopping, went to L.A. where he hung out at the Standard while she sat in the limo and boogied with street people to Rammstein, and then headed home except for the part where she dived out of the limo into traffic.