Stuck On Stupid

I've just read an article in the May 29th issue of New York magazine about Peter Gaiten, a notorious Canadian who owned nightclubs during the 80's and 90's. He exemplified and guarded artists in New York City. After Mayor Rudolph Giuliani took office, he was found guilty of tax evasion and deported back to Canada, where he now resides.


New York City (Manhattan) was extremely exciting during the 80's and 90's, thanks to him, now it is a placid, money generating machine but Peter Gaiten, alas, is opening a new club called Circa in Toronto after seven years. Good for him. You may have seen the movie Party Monster, starring Macaualy Calkin and Dylan McDermott. Macaulay Calkin played Michael Alig, a vivacious promoter for Peter Gaiten's nightclubs. Unfortunately, Michael Alig took the liberty of murdering a person also involved in the nightclub scene during the "heyday". He is now in a juvenile hall, being held until next year.


What does this all mean? You figure it out. With heavy metal swinging back, smacking people in the face, there's no telling what's going to happen. I'll tell you one thing, though, Republican paranoia and all that other shit that comes with it is almost over. I feel I will be a part of the resurgence of creative freedom but we will be catapulted into the future through technology and idealism. What does mean for pop culture and everything else pop? It means it will come back differently, in a big way.

Leeeeeeeet The...Foghorn Sound

Boy, is it foggy today. There is a very thick fog hanging over the entire area of Los Angeles. It's not really a problem for me but the moisture in the air does make me sleepy. I slept on a couch last night after singing for five hours at a place called The Palms, on Santa Monica Boulevard across from the Ramada Inn. It was awesome. I gave my singing voice excercise. For all you freaks out there who are questioning my reason for being in a bar, get a life.


Eventually, I will put a contemporary R&B band together. I don't care if I just sing at Bar Mitvah parties or any other kind of wedding party, I'm going to sing, damn it. I enjoy it as well as writing (although I don't enjoy writing as much, it makes me feel old). I did feel stiff while on stage at the bar because of my attire. My clothing does not fit me too well. No, I'm not satisfied with what I got. Why should I be? I deserve more and better than what I have (or maybe I'm just deluded with narcissism, ha-ha). I think someday, I will make it as a writer or artist but for now, I just feel like I'm a million years old. Gross.


"Crazy Thing To Do Today" Thought: Dance while waiting to cross the street.

Welcome...To The Jungle

Well, after going to the D.P.S.S. (that's Department of Public Social Services)today, I have learned I will have to wait another two months before I can apply for General Relief. I was able to get assistance for food, though. It will only last one week, unless I buy peanut butter and jelly with a package of bread, walking around with it. I'm not going to do that. I'm thinking what I'm going to do for two months while I wait.


It's becoming increasingly hard to maintain the mindset needed when you are homeless. It is not easy. Maintaining an exceptional level of self-esteem and confidence is challenging. You are constantly self-conscious of your body odor and appearance. It's also difficult finding people to have a conversation with at a coffee shop or the beach. Everyone is furious and tense, looking over their shoulder. It's pretty funny, actually. I always chuckle when I see that sort of behavior. Freaks. You can also become deluded. Well, Sunny and friends, the library is closing, 'til tommorrow.


"Crazy Thing To Do Today" Thought: Dance in the middle of the street in traffic during rush hour.

I...Forgot...To...Mention

It is another beautiful day in Southern California. Oh, my gosh, if this goes on, I think I'm going to die laughing. I forgot to mention two days ago that my name is in the June issue of Vanity Fair magazine in the mailbag section. They "quoted" me as saying "Graydon Carter's plaid pants look perfectly fine." Graydon Carter is the editor-in-chief of Vanity Fair magazine and he wore a pair of plaid pants to his Oscar party at Morton's in Los Angeles in 2006. Other magazine's critized him, writing he had no taste in clothing what so ever. A senior executive emailed me back, writing, "We will tentavilely publish your letter.". Wellll, they didn't exactly publish the email I sent to them but my goddamn name, Ricardo Quinones, is in this month's issue. Cool. They respect my opinion. Guess what? GQ magazine will publish my email I sent to them two months ago in their upcoming July issue (hopefully) about Michael Jackson. They called me to verify information. How cool is that?


I met Brian Grazer yesterday while sitting in front of the IL Fornio restaurant on Beverly Drive in Beverly Hills. I said "Hi, Mr Grazer!", in my high-pitched voice. He's a really big movie producer in town and his office is located in Beverly Hills. Cool! Connections...Connections...Connections. Gotta go!


"Craaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaazy Thing To Do Today" thought: Spend $1000 at a 99 cent store.

Almost There

It's another beautiful day here in Southern California. The weather works out well for me. Since summer is prematurely here, it's a great time to head to the beach, which ever you prefer and make the best of the sun. Throw a blanket on the sand, prop up a umbrella, crack open a bottle of Corona Light from your ice-filled cooler and darken that skin. Then, go home, take a shower and throw on a white, double-breasted suit, slick-back your hair and you're set for the night. Don't forget the cigars. That's what I would do. There's plenty to do at the beach besides tanning. You can rollerblade, play basketball, walk around window-shopping, you get the picture.


It's almost time for me to reapply at the D.P.S.S. agency. It is ironic I endured the winter season without the benefits of housing. It infuriates me just thinking about it. While I was crossing the street today in Beverly Hills, I came across an unmarked Ford Thunderbird. It was a unique looking car, so I took a look at the driver. The driver saw me and acknowledged me. It turns out he was present at the time I was arrested last Tuesday. He does not look like a policeman or a detective. Hmmm. Very frightening. The next time I see I will ask him who he works for. Can I do that? Would it be safe to do that? I'm going to find out. When I do see him, I will ask him the real reason why I was arrested. I'm sure the answer will be shocking.


"Crazy Thing To Do Today" Thought: Jump the velvet rope at a nightclub.

Scary Night

It was a frightening night last night, while sleeping on a couch I had found vacant in West Hollywood. It was about 8 o'clock, when, after falling asleep, a suspicious female was going into my pocket, reaching for my cellphone. I woke up, scared and bewildered. She drew back, saying "Are you okay? I was about to call an ambulance. I thought you were dead. Do you need any cigarettes or food?". I said "Fuck off, bee-yatch." (just kidding). I actually said "No, thank you, I'm fine.". I fell back asleep on the couch as she walked away moving my cellphone to another pocket. I first thought she was trying to feel my cock. Sometimes women can't help themselves. Ever have that happen to you? It wouldn't make sense though. Why would she want to have sex with me out in the open, in an alleyway? You never know.


It's another absolutely gorgeous day today. We (California) are on a roll. Three days in a row, as a matter of fact. Everyone is in a good mood. It's a good day to ask someone on the street for money (I have to do that sometimes, hell, I only make $7,000 a year). When I do obtain affordable housing (if that ever happens), I'm going to go to the National Personal Training Institute. Whew, long name. It's a place that trains and certifies people to become personal physical trainers. I would imagine it would be a pretty opportunistic job (wink, wink). Why do I feel horny all of a sudden?


I provided a link to the complete Guns N Roses concert filmed in Lisbon, Portugal, in my last entry. It's better to have a broadband connection than a dial-up connection while viewing it. I thought the concert was pretty good but there were a lot of complaints about everything. You'll just have to give the band some time, I guess. Axl Rose hasn't performed in years, so he's just getting geared up. I almost had the pleasure of meeting him but it didn't happen. I was in a club called Spa, on 13th Street in Manhattan, New York on a Thursday night (it's closed now), celebrating Amanda Lepore's birthday party (David LaChappelle's muse). The party was being thrown by David LaChappelle himself. It was packed and Guns N Roses were touring after their surprise performance on the 2002 MTV Video Music Awards.


Axl Rose shows up, at about 2:30 am, wearing a fur coat. At the time, the club had a "No Fur Coat" policy. They did not let him in, after he refused to take off the fur coat. I don't blame him. Well, after that episode, he canceled the rest of his tour. Go figure. I was inside the club while that was happening. Had I been outside the club, I would've held the fur coat for him, waiting outside the club, while he was inside. Mind you, it was about 30 degrees Farenheit. That didn't happen, though. Too bad.


I'm an aspiring singer as well. This summer, I'll be making a VERY STRONG EFFORT to put together either a contempary R&B cover band or an Alice in Chains cover band. I gotta do it, it's in my blood, baby. There's nothin' like rockin' out on stage, running back and forth and screaming into the microphone, making a lasting impression. I could do that. Anybody out there want to help me? Not too many people can.


Well, between the fuckin' arrest last week and a cold or flu I caught last week, I've been fraught with disaster. Here's another "Crazy Thing To Do" Thought:


Ask a woman: "Can you tell me what a 'cameltoe' is?".

Someone's Playing God

It is Tuesday and absolutely gorgeous. It is the second day in a row for this weather. Before Monday, the weather was treacherous. I'm still trying to figure out why I was arrested last Tuesday. I'm still scratching my head and smirking. Sidenote: When the police arrested me, while they were asking me facts about myself, they asked for my telephone number. I wonder WHY. Well, it doesn't matter. It's irrelevant to what I'm focusing on these days in my life. I found a recliner in Santa Monica sitting pretty in a parking lot of a store. That's where I've been sleeping for two days. It's not bad. There are, I think, two other homeless people who sleep on the ground of the parking lot. I guess I'm smarter. They haven't occupied the recliner yet. I'm still scratching my head.

I should be going to the D.P.S.S. agency either Thursday or Friday. Last week really delayed me. I saw Guns n Roses perform live in Lisbon, Portugal for the Rock N Rio Music Festival. How? It was on the internet. I bet you're still scratching your head.


"Crazy Thing To Do Today" thought: Tell a Beverly Hills cop to go "Fuck him/her self".

What??????????????????

I actually wrote a letter to the CEO of the P.A.T.H. organization, Mr Joel John Roberts. I thought I would share it with the public:

May 22nd, 2006:

Hi, Mr Joel John Roberts. My name is Ricardo. I have read your blog and I'm a little bit familiar with P.A.T.H. I've stayed at a Beverly and Vermont (I think) location and a location in Hollywood. While the organization may be a noble cause, I didn't think it would help me because the program is intensified. There is an imposed curfew at both of these locations, which means these are detoxification centers for the homeless. I don't feel I need a curfew, there's so much I can miss! This is Los Angeles, the land of opportunity. While I might be homeless, I should be able to stay out as long as I want to, knowing fully well my schedule the next morning. Your organization has an out-reach team, handing out out-dated food and drink. I received a bagged lunch one Monday, with a carton of juice three weeks old!

There is only one place I choose to get help from. The Department of Public Social Services. It is run by Los Angeles county. The only problem that I've experienced with them is their lack of support for housing the homeless while training them to get back into the workforce. When I applied last year (2005), I told them I was homeless. I was given a two-week voucher for a room downtown in Central City (Skid Row). It was wonderful, I could come and go as pleased. I attended the G.R.O.W. orientation but could not follow through with the rest of the program. Why? I did not have housing. They told me to stay in a shelter. Why would I stay in a shelter(P.A.T.H.) that has the same intensified vocational program as G.R.O.W., when I can stay in a hotel in Central City with a General Relief voucher? It turns out, the Department of Public Social Services does not advocate that particular form of housing but it is available.

One year later, I learned of the "General Relief" voucher but it was too late. I'm going back this week to the D.P.S.S. center in the Rancho Mirage District to reapply. $2,000 was wasted, that I have to pay back (Recipient-single male adult- receives the maximum of $221 per month, for a period of nine or twelve months). These experiences have forced me to start a blog entitled "Homelessmansdiary".

Homeless services need to centralized into one organization, in my opinion. Even if a person saved money from their income for six months, how does that guarantee they are going to sustain themselves? The city and state officials need to buy up property and start building affordable housing. They also need to stop stifling creativity. There is a lack of support for creative artists. There's plenty of mentally ill people out there that need that curfew more so than I do. Why fund non-profit agencies to do the job (especially those which are "faith-based)? Common sense should prevail, not the Lord, Jesus Christ.

Focus on supportive housing. It's that simple. Why make it complicated? Why complicate people's lives? In New York City, rent control laws no longer exist. The place I was staying in went for $500 a month. As soon as the building was sold and the new owners took over, the rent jumped by $200 in one single month, going from $500 to $700 per month! I flew the coup. I'm not going to slave myself. I'm not going to slave myself here in Los Angeles either. Why give up my dreams for some stinky little apartment? Why slave myself to pay that mortgage or that credit card debt?


Ricky.


Would do you, the reader, think? I've gotten more comments via email from people reading the blog, they are very nice comments and supportive comments. The reason why I haven't posted an entry for two days is because I was arrested by the Beverly Hills Police Department Tuesday morning, while walking down Burton Way towards the Beverly Hills Public Library. The case was rejected this morning by a judge in Beverly Hills Court. Why? I did not do what they (the police) were accusing me of doing, their evidence was inconclusive (no fingerprint match). The police accused me of grand theft auto (stealing a $3500 bicycle), possession of narcotics (in a duffel bag thrown in the bushes I presume, were needles and cocaine) and resisting arrest.

They approached me as I was walking down the street I mentioned earlier and told me to sit down on the curb. They then said, "Why are you running from the police?". Running from what? I had just come from a Peet's Coffee Shop and walked down Robertson Boulevard to get to Burton Way. "We have fingerprints and video of you stealing the bicycle and running away from the police.", they said.

They then handcuffed me and put me in a patrol car, driving me just a few blocks away to the Civic Center, where the Police Department, Fire Department, Public Library and City Hall are located. Whew! I was then booked and kept in a locked cell for three days, Tuesday, Wednesday and today, Thursday. Whew! They fed me like a king, giving me three super-hot meals a day, double portion. It was not enough to lift my spirits. I was frightened and wondered to myself, why would I be falsely charged? Have I gone completely nuts and blacked out when this occurred? Do they actually have evidence against me? No. They didn't. I guess they just needed a suspect. Martydom. It sucks. The case was thrown out of court and I was returned back into civilization, released in Beverly Hills, right where I started Tuesday morning. Yikes!

"Crazy Thing To Do Today" Thought: Ask a celebrity for $100.

Relentless Rain

Boy, has it been raining. It's bizarre. It's the end of May and the rain persists. Why do I whine about it, you might ask? It's because when you're homeless, you have to scout constantly for a new area in which to call home for the night. Last night, I found a couch (again) and guess what, there was a bonus. A rug included on top of the couch. It came in handy. It was cloudy all day yesterday. There was not a single spot of sun. It was relentless. Then, a little after 9 pm, the shit hit the fan. It just started pouring. That's when the rug came in handy, it provided cover for me but not for long. There was first a drizzle, light sprinkles, then it started to pour. Even though I had the rug for cover, pretty soon I was soaking wet. In my mind, I had to make a quick decision. Should I stay under the rug, or go. I was contemplating staying because on Friday, I bought myself some clothing, instead of staying in a motel room for one or two nights. I bought some leather sandals and a pair of pants, along with a jacket. I had to consider the leather sandals getting wet. Once leather gets wet, you have to recondition it. Or, you can weatherproof it beforehand, which I didn't do. I decided to take off. The rug started leaking anyway, failing to provide cover from the rain for me. A cardboard box would've been more handy. A mentally ill man was rummaging through the dumpster right behind me last night, the noise depriving me of sleep. It was very frightening. The experience, between the noise (there were no helicopters in the air) and the rain, the fear of getting wet, trying to stay warm as well. Whew! I'm glad I got that off my chest. I'll be going to the Department of Public Social Services this week, I think the 30 day sanction has been lifted (if you do not complete the G.R.O.W. program, you are penalized for a certain period of time before you can apply again).

"Crazy Thing To Do Today" Thought: Throw your head back and open your mouth while it's raining.

C

Crazy cronies crooning.

Creepy creatures crawling.

Crystal creamy critters carousing.

Crappy cats colliding.

Crescent Heights craving cash.

Cranial cast creeping cowardly candid.

Crescendo Christ craning collectively.

Crapshoot cantor crazily christening chorus.

Canaries constantly canning coins.

I thought someone might appreciate a little wordplay.

Stray Cats

I've noticed there are a lot of stray cats wandering around, especially in areas I frequently go to. There was a woman walking down Burton Way in Beverly Hills clutching a box of cat treats close to her breasts. She was calling out "Nicky", "Nicky". She had lost her cat. After describing what the cat looked like to me, I mentioned an area in West Hollywood where I may have seen a cat similar to hers wandering. I then asked her, "Do I get a reward if you find the cat?". eShe said, "You just did.". I said, "Yeah, what was that?". She said, "A good feeling.". "I didn't get a good feeling.", I said. I then said, "Could you give me a good feeling?" (use your imagination). Has anybody ever seen the movie "Vanilla Sky"? There's a scene in which Penelope Cruz's character says to Tom Cruise's character, "I'll tell you in another lifetime, when we're both cats.". It was difficult for me to sleep last night, in an alleyway. I don't have a pillow, so I used newspapers stacked up yay high. It was very uncomfortable. There were helicopters buzzing in the sky and sirens wailing all the time. Pure pandemonium. I managed to get some shut eye. I took off my sneakers, giving my feet a rest. I rarely do that, for fear someone will take them. There were other homeless people sleeping nearby. That's not a good sign. It's a condensed space, which means trouble. I'm not going there tonight. Someone emailed me yesterday, commenting on the blog, calling it one of their favorite's. They also said thank's. Your welcome. I hope you will find entertaining. I do. Cool. I hope it's someone famous (just kidding). Here's another " Crazy Thing To Do Today" Thought:

Walk into a Victoria's Secret store in a naked body suit and prance around.

"Crazy Thing To Do Today"...Another One

Walk up to a person in Beverly Hills, cock your head to the side and ask: "Where's the best place to get a nose job around here?".

Unleash The Power

I went to a mall last night to use their public bathroom and a security guard working there followed me, waited for me to come out of the bathroom and tried to block my path out. I asked him, "Is everything okay?", he did not say anything and gave me a quizzical look. I then asked the reason for being so aggressive with me, questioning his behavior, he then said: "Get some self-esteem.". What planet is he on? Is that person actually qualified for the job? I told him I would surely let the security company he was working for know his actions and his odd behavior. I went to a bar last night called the Red Rock cafe and saw Andy Garcia walking down the street. I said, "Hi Mr. Garcia!". Mr. Garcia? I was a little embarrassed after calling him that because it sounded like I was in a classroom and greeting a school teacher. He didn't seem to mind. Sometimes, you can run into celebrities walking down the street, a great opportunity to pitch a project, if you have one (not a good idea). Sometimes I feel like everyone is in outerspace, their minds warped because they aren't self-conscious of their actions. It's a sub-conscious effort (I'm sure some of you are familiar with that). Why not just jump off a bridge? The minute depression kicks in, it's time to get some treatment. Don't spread your "love" with everyone else. Sometimes I feel like people judge me by the way I look. Shabby. It's true. They do. Very few people I meet actually talk to me and they are either wealthy or educated. Or just plain lonely. Martyrdom. I hate it. It sucks but it's implanted in people's minds, I think. Maybe that's the reason why I'm homeless. Corporate greed. A PATH employee approached me today while I was sitting at a Starbucks in West Hollywood. She wanted to give me a lunchbag. I told her never to approach me again. Why, you ask? Well, it's because the food they are distributing to the homeless is not fresh. When I accepted the lunchbag I was given on Monday, I looked at the date on the carton of juice. The juice was approximately two weeks old. Are they trying to kill me? Yuck. The Starbucks I was sitting at while drinking my cup of coffee has lapsed in standard. After drinking my cup of coffee, I noticed debris at the bottom of my cup and hair! What the hell is going on? After bringing it up with the manager, she looked at me as if I was crazy. Yuck. I'm going to start posting "Crazy thing to do today" thoughts. I thought it might entertaining. Maybe people sitting at their computers in their office cubicles will enjoy the sense of humor. Here' s the first one:

• Bang your head against the wall while listening to Radiohead's song "Creep".

To The Anonymous Commenter

I've received several comments from an anonymous commenter, cool. I don't know if the comments come from the same person or not. It doesn't matter. It shows that "someone" is reading the entries. You can review the comments yourself by clicking on "comments". It always excites me when someone reads the entries because hopefully, they will get a clearer picture of what is going on with homeless people such as myself. I'm also really excited because local cities, Santa Monica and West Hollywood in particular, are purchasing lots and building affordable housing. Real estate prices are also going down, foreclosures are taking place. The bidding on most of these properties that have been foreclosed usually start at one dollar. Amazing. Bottoms up, baby. Since the couch in the alleyway has been propped in an upright position for disposal, I have been sleeping behind two cardboard boxes filled with debris. It gives me cover and a little privacy. It is not a good idea to be seen by the public when your eyes are shut and you are sleeping. I found some carpet on the ground which I use for padding. Today, I'll be participating in another research project. This one is similar to the one I did before, the only difference is this one will be a group study, a focus group of some sorts, consisting of men who have made themselves available. No, they are not actors talking about their experience at the Hugh Hefner mansion at one of his soirees. These are people, such as myself, who have experienced sex with men and can contribute information on the attitudes of the general consensus regarding HIV and sex. Have no fear, there is a vaccine in the works. There are banners posted along side street lamp posts screaming it out, looking for volunteers. When that vaccine is available, I'll be sure to be first in line. It'll be similar to a rock concert, electric energy in the air. I went to a soup kitchen yesterday in Beverly Hills at an Episcopalian church. This particular church focuses more readily on religion, playing guitars and singing Christian music, while about fifty homeless and poor people sit at tables to eat. Everybody wears a sticker on their chest with their name written on it. I don't, I find it degrading. I just literally slurp my food and leave, red-faced. I can't stand listening to Christian music, it makes me bang my head against the wall and create a hole. There's a PATH organization van sitting outside the church, with a person handing out bags of lunch and taking a survey. I always take the lunch bag and give them a fake name. They ask you for the reason you are homeless and coerce you into participating in a six-month program at one of their facilities. I told them I was not interested. Their curfew is nine o'clock. P.M. Too early for a grown man or woman. Perfect for a child or teenager needing strict supervision. Essentially, in my opinion, these are detoxification centers. You are woken up at five o'clock in the morning the next day and are dismissed at six o'clock. Yikes. Charming. Hell, for someone who is sober the majority of the time. I told them bad credit and debt are my primary problems.

A New Friend

Well, it's Monday. I ran into someone yesterday who is in the same situation, homeless and is a songwriter and guitar player. He is about my age and is looking for a singer. He's waiting for a job, he will purchase a guitar amp and guitar, allowing him to make music. We'll be working together in the future. I see him all the time. There are plenty of creative people out there who need a place to stay, it's about time this gentrification bullshit ends, it's stifling creativity. Everytime I go to a coffee shop, there's always a problem with the coffee. It could be coffee grounds at the bottom of the cup or stale coffee that has been sitting out too long. Or a disgruntled employee, waiting to ruin someone's day. These business's attract revenue and a particular customer (the same customer's that like to show their dogs off, thinking it's cute) but they also attract a mindset, ignorance and instant self-gratification. Did you ever see the movie Bulworth? It was released a couple of years ago and has been airing on Cinemax a lot lately. It is about a senator going through a middle-age crisis who decides to blow the whistle on campaign financing and just politics in general. He hangs out with a girl from South Central, L.A. called Nina and starts rapping, smoking marijuana and djing. It's very entertaining because it was fun to see a politician let lose. For those of you who haven't seen the movie, I won't tell you happens in the end. It is a riveting and intense film. Gun's N Roses performed in New York City over the weekend. The review in today's Daily Variety magazine of their concert on Friday, May 12th was great. They were given a head's up. There was a moment in the concert when Axl Rose, the frontman said, after singing one of his new, unreleased songs, "You fuckers really know how to download!". I guess he wasn't too happy over the leak of one of his songs. I hope they come to L.A. to play a few gigs. I would purchase a ticket without hesitation or try to sneak in somehow. The couch I've been sleeping on is standing upright now, in an attempt to have it disposed of. I guess the garbage men forgot to pick it up. It's been sitting there for three weeks straight. I didn't attempt to put it back in place, I don't want any attention in that manner. Besides, in a few more weeks, I'll eligible to re-apply for General Relief. Hopefully, they'll (the Department of Public Social Services) get it right this time. I also hope there will be a room available.

Bloom

I feel wonderful today, after having a cup of Latin American coffee at Pete's Coffee shop located in West Hollywood. It's because I was listening to classical music playing in the store. It's a great motivational factor. Music definitely helps you think and can set your mood. What was I thinking about? The tyrannies of society. What I've discovered long ago was that, over the years, I have constantly looked for a way to express myself artistically. There are people that are born with that creative aspect but it cannot be fully developed in the wrong environment. Then you are lead into the workforce and forced to suppress those talents. I have been fortunate to experience euphoria through music, thus healing myself, quelling my pain. Once a person can do that, intelligence takes place and you find your ambition. What a wonderful thing, it's empowering. I look for inspiration from nature, billboards advertising products and people. I watch and observe, as well as listen, to everything going on. Then I process it in my mind. Pretty fascinating, huh? Imagine yourself poor, in a four-star restaurant, watching the uppercrust of society dine. Madonna did it. Or reading Vanity Fair magazine. Or watching a period film. You observe and learn. That's what little, itty, bitsy, cutesy, wootsy kids do. They watch everything. I like to watch birds, especially, I think, sparrows, snow pigeons and baby crows. I'm not sure what sort of species they are but they are adorable. I also like looking at beautiful cars float by on the street, as they are passing through traffic. This morning, I saw a gorgeous Lotus. I asked the owner, " How much did that set you back?". "$60,000", he replied. That's not a bad price for a sports car that goes from 0 to 60 miles per hour in 4 seconds. That's a lot of gas, though. With gas at $4.00 per gallon, you would need a hefty bank account. I told him, after he said to me how much he paid for his car, "Oh, that's one script.".

Summer Is Coming

Well, summer is almost here. I can feel it. The days are getting longer and the flowers are blooming. Those are just some of the signs. I will also be able to reapply for the General Relief/Cash Assistance/GROW program, hopefully (the period-12 months-expired). Maybe, then, will I get some housing with the Skid Row Trust foundation downtown in Central City with a General Relief voucher. I do feel a sense of enpowerment from posting on this blog, even though few people read it because writing assures me that I'm not homeless due to a mental illness. I have assessed I am homeless due to simple, unfortunate reasons. You can simply go mad trying to figure it all out or sit down and think about it (not philosophizing, which can lead to contempt.) I try, with all my might, to live as normal a life as possible. It's difficult. I have so much competition with people my age. It's hard to go into a public place wearing the same clothing everyday and smelling ripe, like I would if I had just departed the gym. A couple of blog entries ago, I was going to go into detail as to what happened a year ago, when I first arrived here but it's really quite simple. The house I was staying in was sold and the person I was staying with moved. Was it a man, you ask?......Yes. Your guess would be correct. It was only platonic relationship. Without friends or family to count on, you have got yourself.

Wondrous Day

Finally, today sun actually broke through the marine layer that has hanging over our heads. Great beach weather. I went to participate in the survey the University of Southern California is conducting and I was paid for it. It was pretty fun, answering those questions for two hours. I guess a team of psychiatrists are trying to figure out how to create advertising for safe sex. I told them to display a 6-foot condom on a billboard. Underneath that condom displayed would say "Use It". They also asked how I would convince another man I'm having sex with to use a condom. I told them, "I would tell the man I'm having sex with to put the condom on to cover the cheese.". Just a little disgusting humor. I've had sex with other men before but what they are trying to figure out, I guess, is how to get men who like having sex with other men without a condom to use one. Good luck. Doctors, scientists and psychiatrists should just focus on a vaccine for the AIDs virus, we need one. People, through impulse, are going to have sex regardless, at any location. I have sex with woman too. Woman are just as impulsive, if not even more so. Did you ever fuck a woman in a bathroom? I haven't but I've had sex in a bathroom with a man. Why don't I have a girlfriend or boyfriend, you ask? It's difficult to meet people for that purpose when you cannot afford a place to live. People are generally weary and distrustful. If you tell them you're homeless, they going to think you are going to steal something from their home. Some people already know I'm homeless with me telling them. They smell it. Mmmm. Can you smell that stench? There are a lot of gorgeous trees in Los Angeles. I always stop to look at them. The butterflies are around too, lots of them, as well as wasps and bees. I stay away from wasps and bees. I look at the flowers carefully. Oh, I forgot to mention, I saw Larry King again yesterday entering a Jewish deli for breakfast. I had a pretty good breakfast myself, a smoked salmon bagel sandwich. Mmmm. That fishy taste.

Great Night

I went to a lesbian bar last night to sing karaoke. It was fantastic because I didn't have to really wait too long to sing. I sing pretty well, I think but I received a lukewarm reception. I then slept in a park in Beverly Hills on a bench without being disturbed by law enforcement. How cool is that? I stopped sleeping on that couch I found in the alleyway located in West Hollywood because I started noticing other homeless people congregating. That is not good, it attracts deputy sheriffs. The tenants in that area take notice and pick up the phone. In my situation, you move around from time to time, never staying in one location for too long. I do not socialize or associate with other homeless people because the majority of them will cause trouble, thus pulling you into that dark hole with their filthy claws. I like the lesbian bar but when males go there, they (the lesbians), look at you suspiciously. They are weary of men and take precaution. It's very interesting watching lesbians socialize. I have never seen them in action, though. I wonder what it would be like? Hmmm. Fantasies. So, after singing my heart out, I felt a satisfaction. I also felt assured that I still have my singing voice. Eventually I will pursue something in music. Music is a way for me to keep my cool. I just can't write songs though and I am not classically trained with instruments. Bummer. Someday, though, I guess I'm going to have to go through the motions.

Interesting Weekend

I should actually title this particular post...Wow...with a capital w. It was an interesting weekend because...after checking out of the motel room Saturday and mingling with the public, I encountered about two or three interesting people. One was a writer with a treatment and a script written based on his life. He was scant with his ideas, referring to himself as a genius with an I.Q. score of 190. I was sympathetic, though, when I asked him if he had registered his work with the Writer's Guild of America. He did not. He then handed me his card and said, "Help me. ". Today, I emailed the correct information to him pertaining registering his script. If you do not register your work, you are screwed. Someone else is going to make millions off of your idea. I then met another fellow yesterday. After asking him for a cigarette, he gives me one and pokes me in the abdomen with his forefinger. It was quite a strong poke, targeting a very specific area in the abdomen, so I asked him if he was ever in the military. He then confided he was an ex-CIA covert. "I could kill you with this plastic card", he said after pulling out his Ralph's Club Card. He makes a horizontal gesture, side to side, displaying his "skills". He then tells me he's killed 900 people over the years, as his job. He was very intimidating. I was not surprised to hear that but quickly was on my way. Those are just some of the kind of people you may meet as you are alone on your quest for housing. I have just a few more weeks to wait until I can reapply for General Relief.