Robotic Dragon

The day after my birthday: also convienently a day off. Party coming later. Promise.

I sat on the internet for several hours complaining to noone about the sad, empty state of my stomach. Eventually, I turned the ol Compaq off and headed out in search of food. Now, this could have easily been solved by a quick jaunt over to sevi(7/11 for the uninformed) to buy a hotdog or slice of pizza. They have decent pizza.

I was looking for so much more as well as a reason to not step foot so soon through those doors. Some substance abuse lead to heading there last night. Magic herbs are fun, kids. Yay.

Anyway… I found myself wandering on down Santa Monica Blvd in search of whatever I might find. I was looking for cheap, tasty food that didn’t require a tip or have pretentious clientele. The further West I ventured, it seemed, the more pretentious the bastards sitting outside or walking in the opposite direction. Not to say that gay = pretentious. Gay just became more prevalent itself, to the point of normalcy, that it didn’t even matter.

I found myself at a little taco stand right next to a car wash. Had myself a good burrito, and sat there doing some people watching till I finished even the ice from my Mr. Pibb. My comfortable, relazing few minutes was momentarily interrupted by a homeless man spouting gibberish at me after he was yelling at the cooks to give him something for a dollar. I was initially planning on ignoring any begging he’d throw at me, but he came at me with gibberish and grabbing his pants. Unsettling, fur sure, but he ended up wandering off and I didn’t have to run away.

When I ran out of ice, I got up and wandered further West, in search of some yogurt, since there was a yogurt place across the street. Unfortunately, pretentiousness kept me from treking inside, so I headed further West, finding The Troubadour, a venue I have yet to visit. I stopped before Beverly Hills and turned around, opting to find a last stop at The Den, which had me walking up steep La Cienega just to see if I could do it.

Tonight would have been another trip to the Zoo, but I think I’ve filled my day.

So, I’ve moved in and have begun settling in my new base of operations: West Hollywood. That same region this Hills nonsense occours. My neighborhood is the quiet one next to a 7/11. About half an hour’s walk from The Den, which I have so far walked to… twice. Yeah, let’s go with that many times.

After giving my brother/roommate a ride to an important meeting, I decided I’d give Astro Burger a try, since it’s supposedly gotten good reviews and is right down the block from my new apartment. Located on the corner of Santa Monica and Gardener, this place is sort of a sad little diner. The menu is rather large, spanning about half the length of the place.

I decided the best choice of action would be to go with a cheeseburger. if the place has Burger in its name, then it’s got to have decent burgers, right? Of course, I found myself at Sandy Burger numerous times while living around the corner from Hollywood and Vine and never once tried the burger, so maybe that’s not really the best call.

Cheeseburger, a side of onion rings(the menu stated they were “home made”), and a Coke. First of all… I recomend In-n-Out burger’s classic cheeseburger over this thing. The patty is about as thin, but In-n-Out simply tastes better and the tomato’s fresher.

The onion rings had rather boring breading, but at least the onions themselves were cooked to a consistancy that lead to them being easily torn apart rather than pulled right out of the breading shell. They still needed a lot of ketchup. I have a preference for not requiring ketchup on onion rings. Perhaps I should have gone with fries.

It was all a bit overpriced for the qualiy of food. Perhaps I’ll try again and go for the Mexican food on the menu. I saw a couple eating something to that extent on a plate. That looked good, for the little bit that was left.

And back to the atmosphere… it was lacking. There were numerous table jukeboxes, but I wasn’s willing to put in a quarter to see if they worked seeing as how the place was quiet. I had a conversation to eavesdrop on, but it was only comething continued and of little interest to an otherwise enjoyable activity.

When I stopped at the Arco to get a few bucks worth of gas before coming back home, I found I had an upset stomach. Skip the onion rings.

It clears out a lot when you finish online traffic school, file your taxes, and get a paycheck to fill in the missing bank funds. The stress goes and it seems things begin to look up. I even came across $1.10 lying around while working, which, when still not making a whole lot higher than the lowest legal wage, it’s a nice little bit.

The previously mentioned upcoming move to nicer digs seems to be at a hault. At the moment it’s all in the hands of my brother/roommate. We have 11 days to be out of the current place and his being rather busy it’s putting me a little on edge. New potential business prospects along with Fox approaching him for a reality show sort of puts him in the boat of slightly too busy to fax over the applications for the apartment on Sweetzer. Trouble.

As for my “comedy career”, I just put Zoo appearance #8 in the toilet bag and collected myself a link to open mic listings. I’ve started using an RPG analogy and I now I feel I’ve reached level 7 or level 8. I’ll level faster if I can use this list, network and collect xp(which is appropriate, seeing as how literal experiences build material).

Oddly, probably not ironically, my brother so recently(less than 24 hours ago) found out that the show How I Met Your Mother, featuring Den Regular(and Muppet fanatic) Jason Segel, was not a reality show but a sitcom. I have no idea how exactly such a title would work as a reality show and I suppose that question is pretty damn moot, but damn.

Meanwhile, to add to the plethora of subjects, here, I had a minor issue with my site navigation and had to replace it with another. Bottom of the current entries. Use it to see what I did.