News in these here now United States

noooz

At the end of a Monday, this is the top news of a wealthy, well-known Southern California beach resort, population about 90,000. There’s a lot going on in my town. News-type news happens! More than most cities this size. We have a harbor and a large beach.

But apparently the Register (and everyone else, really) decided to save $5 and fire all their reporters. Top stories here include two actual news items, two rewarmed press releases, three canned data stories, and a real estate tout. Just from hearing sirens during the day anyone can tell that a couple of those data-repeating or PR stories could be replaced with a car crash, for chrissakes.

The Register was never an excellent newspaper, but they did cover local news. If a column of smoke was rising from the Westside or 8 cop cars arrived at the high school, you knew they’d have something about it the next day.

Welp that’s done!

What do you all think? What’s the likely effect of disappearing local news over the next decade or so?

In which the local police department provides amusement

Right after I saw Bob yesterday, he was pedaling home when accosted by Costa Mesa’s finest.

Picture Bob in a big straw hat, reflective bright yellow vest, riding a bike, towing a trailer on which there is a blue dog who is barking happily.

The cops decided he was the one who had just robbed a bank. Bob’s description of the event is below:

Uttered by a blue dog on a trailer and overheard by a passerby…In front of the trailered dog lay sprawled at gunpoint his unphased owner,muttering some bile ladden filth and saying things like “What the fuck” etc. long story short the dog confessed and both parties were released …..fuck me! what is it?break out the Kool Aid and jam for the fucking bridge??!! beyond Keystone we need pictures of me in bike outfit/bank robbery getaway outfit! later

Some days I can’t get enough of my town.

I expect you to die, Mr. Bond!

henry t hyde

Meet Henry T. Nicholas, local billionaire and James Bond villain. Henry was the head of Broadcom, a big microchip company. Henry stands six foot six, has a dungeon under his house, slips Ecstasy to unknowing dinner companions, does meth and coke, has a prostitution problem, has armed guards patrolling his home, and flies around in a private jet with the drugs and the prostitutes. At least, this is what the prosecutors and some angry associates say, and some of it is beyond denial, in particular the dungeon. He is also on the hook for securities fraud at his company.

Christ, what an asshole. But just look at the guy! Wow!

Details, lurid and otherwise, are in this nicely done Vanity Fair article

Today’s Unsurprising Costa Mesa news

Note for non-locals: Tony’s Place is a dive bar of a particular sort: a haunt of semi-retired felons. Most of them are over-the-hill cirrhotic carnie mumblers. This guy was apparently still sparky at the advanced age of 42. The last sentence is the best.

Man’s skull fractured by pool cue in bar fight
Fight in Costa Mesa ends with man hospitalized with bleeding in his brain

COSTA MESA – A 42-year-old Costa Mesa man was arrested on suspicion of assault with a deadly weapon, after a game of pool ended with a man going to the hospital with a skull fracture and bleeding in his brain.

William Marsh was arrested at Tony’s Place at 2054 Newport Blvd. in Costa Mesa after a disagreement over a game of pool around 10:15 p.m., said Costa Mesa police Sgt. Bryan Wadkins.

Marsh is suspected of hitting Christopher Colbert, 49, of Costa Mesa, in the head with a pool cue.

Marsh was arrested at the scene, Wadkins said.

Other patrons overheard the fight but did not see it, Wadkins said.

This is why I blog.

For no-breathe funny replies like this one to my poke at Chronic Cantina guy. Oh man. Quoted below in full, context more apparent at the post itself:

It’s only obvious that you are just one of many, MANY forgettable girls who have been quickly turned on and turned out by my friend Mr. Scheinberg here…which im sure was quickly followed by a “What was your name?” type of moment! LOL Ahh…So many broken hearts…So little time to care.

Oh, but what do I know? Well as someone who got down and did The Butt Naked Booty Scoot with him as well as help him run one of his first companies while he finished law school at Chapman 7 years ago…I think I’m a little more than qualified. Did I mention he is hands down my favorite boss and manager to date? (And I mean from a professional position not a sexual one…although that too was quite impressive!) *
🙂

I’m definitely qualified enough to tell you that if you are so ignorant and immature as to not respect the fact that Keith Scheinberg is one of the youngest and most successful MEN in Orange County -not to mention extremely good looking & good in bed- then I would suggest doing us all a favor and keep your lips and legs the same way – closed!

Peace! (Shout out to MAX- love ya!)

Keepin’ my lips and my legs wiiiide open here, babe. Say hi to Marie Antoinette for me! It’s all good.

HEY EVERYONE BARGAIN GARAGE SALE EVERYTHING MUST GO

OWNERS OF SWINGERS CLUB SELL FURNISHINGS

Nalder and Wood advertised sale items on craigslist this past week, including a 600-pound ice maker, 26 double, queen and king-sized five-inch thick foam pads and a steel-framed bed with headboard lights.

The posting stated the club was moving to a new location and down-sizing.

Outside the building, several wooden boards covered with black and purple felt lay against a retaining wall. Six automobiles and a motorcycle were in the parking lot, including a truck pulling a storage unit.

Hmm, five inches. Would that be thick enough to AUGH WHAT AM I THINKING

Main Street Afternoon

Yesterday I found myself on Main Street in Huntington Beach at early dinner time, so I put all my change in a meter and went for a walk, followed by Guinness and fish ‘n’ chips.

For those who don’t know the area, Main Street is the tourist trap and party zone of Huntington. Like Newport and Laguna, it has surf shops and souvenir crap and some theme restaurants. Unlike the others, it has tough guys, mean cops, real bars, and some genuine menace at night. Also, non chain restaurants!

At six on a weekday there wasn’t much going on, but the people watching was good on my longish walk.

I walked by a guy who was parking a new Porsche. He was small and strong, with a skintight shirt and a little gold chain, and hair cut close. Not someone you’d want to mess with. As he was getting out of the car, a friend greeted him, obviously someone he hadn’t seen in a while. Porsche was in a hurry, but stopped to talk. The Friend was generic overweight white guy with goatee, t-shirt over belly, shorts and flip flops. Porsche was dark, probably Mexican.

FRIEND: Hey! I heard you were into some stuff but I didn’t know you were, well, um, [gesture at Porsche] into some stuff like THIS.

PORSCHE: Huh, what’ya mean? [starting to look annoyed]

FRIEND: Well I, uh. I heard you.. um.. had been on “vacation.”

PORSCHE: Aah yeah… [nervous, more annoyed] That was a ways back. ANYWAY. [picks up phone]

The next chapter was at the Irish bar, where I had my meal. It was almost deserted, so I got a good outdoor seat for people watching.

The inside seat on the sidewalk was occupied by two very young teenaged girls, who were completely hyperactive. They kept asking random passers-by for a dollar. They said “hi” to almost everyone, and some people stopped to talk, including a middle-aged motorcyclist with salt and pepper hair, a couple of skater boys, a couple with a cute dog, etc. They asked me how old I thought they were. “Fourteen,” I said. “Thirteen!” they declared, triumphantly.

Next to me on the patio was a party of thugs. There are a lot of tatted up guys with hats pointing the wrong away in this part of the world, but these were the real thing. One guy had the Suicidal style bandanna half over the eyes, and all of them had obvious gang tats, just not from gangs I knew of. The teenaged girls asked the thugs: “Would you date us if we were 18?” and they blanched.

They were very friendly thugs. They were discussing what assholes people were around here, and asked me if I was local. I agreed with them about the local “quality” being stuck up and tiresome, especially the ones who think they’re tough. I urged them to consider this to be Disneyland and relax and enjoy it, and they thought that was a fine idea. They were from Chino Hills. When they left we all slapped each others’ hands and exchanged names and good will. I told them to watch out for the cops.

Meanwhile, the cops were about 50 feet away giving the skater boys a massive overkill search and detainment.

Next door at Sharkeez (VERY BAD STUPID BAR) there was a party of New York Baller Types, puerto ricans and black people, having a great time being incredibly drunk and loud. They were almost out of control, but very cheerful. One of them was the Designated Funny Guy in the group and had a ghastly screeching laugh.

The teenaged girls, of course, went over and introduced themselves, making an Enrique and a Shawn very nervous. More handshakes and amusing fear on the part of the New York Ballers, who did not want anything at all to do with suburban jailbait.

As I left, the cops were finally releasing the skater boys. It was classic HBPD: they’d ignored two unattended children, a party of hardore gangster criminals, an obvious dope dealer, and an out of control loud yelling party of out-of-state brown people just to fuck with some local kids on skateboards.

Anyway, that’s Main Street at six pm. At around 11 pm on a weekend night it’s what you’d expect.