Sunday, January 1, 2012

Neon Angels On The Road To Ruin

Happy New Year, bitches!

Okay, Harls wanted to start this shit, so here we go. Honestly, I don't see the point in writing this crap out where everyone can see it, but I guess it'll be good to at least have a record of some of the stuff that's been happening.

Yeah, so she says its because she thinks other people should know our "story". P'sh, probably just going to end up with a bunch of voyeurs and a bigger target on our backs. Anyway, what the hell, might as well get this shit on the road. I'm going to be keeping you lot up to date on current stuff mostly, and Harls, well... She wants people to know where we're coming from.

We're staying in this shitty-ass hole in the wall in Hollywood, of all places. Heh. At least it's not a squat, that's all I'm gonna say. Only trees for miles are palm trees. And there's not even many of those, in the area we're in. Just the way Harls likes it. Not going to drop any more deets than that. Too much chance of somebody looking for us.

Harls just got a job waitressing to supplement our funds, and I've found a good spot for busking, so I think we're okay there, at least. If we can just keep away from any stalky bastards. Always just out of sight, feels like. Fuckin' hell. Can't look at suits without taking a second glance these days.

Harls has been getting worse recently, on the sickness end of things. Some puking and bloody noses, mostly. I've been coughing up my lungs, though I honestly wanted to chalk that up to bronchitis at first. I get it every year, or at least I did. We're dealing though. Treat the symptoms.

Not much has gone down recently, beyond the usual sense of foreboding, though I did see that thing the other day when I was playing on a corner. Nobody else even seemed to notice as I closed my little set, put the guitar in the case and ever so calmly booked it. I so did not want a repeat of a few months ago. Scar still fuckin' burns like it's fresh when it's around.

So, anyway, the holidays weren't all that bad, which is more than I can say for some. There needs to be a calendar where you can request creeper-free days, guys. Seriously. Idiot-free days, too. I can't tell you how many offers to "keep me warm" I got today. Fuckin' a, I've got a girlfriend, shit-for-brains. Because it's so fuckin' cold in LA any time of year? Riiiiiiiiight?

And that's me for the mo', signing off. Don't have shit else to say right now.


  1. I love it when morons try to hit on you. Especially when your significant other is RIGHT FUCKING THERE. But hey, while I'm talking to you.. what's up with the fear of suits? Something you want to share with the class?

  2. Well, daddy always told me never to trust lawyers and shit, but yeah, it's a little more complicated than that.