Monday, October 21, 2013

Hot Pockets.

I've been living in Santa Rosa California for two weeks now. It is exactly how I pictured it minus what I was told about regarding the pizza. It aint half bad.

The West Coast seems to be faster and slower than what I'm used to on the East Coast. Traffic is non stop and I have no idea where all these people are going. They drive fast and rush through yellow lights. I've gone out drinking a few times and people get drunk fast here too. Maybe I'm just slow. I got my first Cali girl number only to find out she was from Oklahoma, which didn't matter anyway cuz apparently it's creepy to leave whispering voicemails at 4 am 3 nights in a row.

After the cross country road trip and my three days in Vegas I literally made it here with $40 in my pocket. Sold my first paintings last week, and I've lined up my first show to be around Christmas so keep an eye out for that shit. I went and did this weird studio walk where artists open their homes and sell plastic wrapped prints out of laundry bins. The art scene is booming out here but I don't really understand that either. A lot of the artists I met yesterday had this weird twitch in their eyes. Or they were glazed over and their forced smiles were twitching. A lot of twitchers.

Everyone out here is a hustler. I think that's my favorite part of this place A lot of cutthroat cowboys and yoga rockin b girls. In the grocery stores here I've witnessed on multiple occasions this thing that I can only really call a yoga bikini. In the frozen food isle I'm alone with my head in a freezer and I pull out and beside me is this girl and her nipples are piercing this thin black fabric while her ass is trembling from the snow coming out of the ice cream cooler. She smiled at me and I immediately shoved my head back into the hot pockets until she walked away.


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