Hollywood Sunday...

I think I was at the bottom of my Blanche De Chambly, falling asleep in my bed at the condo as the Nelms boys were setting up the first shot of the short they were doing about guys and gals, dating and such. It was already past midnight.

We wrapped around 2:30. I saw them off soon after, found my way to bed by 3:30, dog wrapped around my legs, intent on keeping my stints of sleep on the short.

I showed up at work something around 9, decided again I need to stop working. I got off, got to the gym, burned off service rage before deciding again, I need to stop fucking working. Honestly.

I came home, showered, brought some Sancerre to a place up Beachwood, drank it, ate some cheese, caught up with an old Navigator.

I left, picked up a friend, headed to the wrap party of Sam Raimi's "Drag Me To Hell."

Remember my screen crushes. Met one. This one...


We had a moment. I left.

Drove around the La Brea's and Fairfax's of this town to Arcade Fire before swinging into Grand Lux...my Southwest salad.

Home.

Over my shoulder now, a full, full vouche, this...



I kinda dig this town.