the los angicles chronicles, part trois: how have i lived so long with out you?

oh, beach. the sweet sweet beach. i think i miss you the most.

i love how your wind whispered inspirations to me during my long roller skating adventures along manhattan beach. i love your beautiful surfer boys. i love your sandcastles and celebrities making sandcastles (holler sexy scott bakula from quantum leap with pecs glistening in the sun!). i love your burnt-out old-ass hippies still on an LSD trip from 1964 bugging the fuck out in venice whilst bloody baby-punching barfights ensue. i love how your sand follows me everywhere, even back to philadelphia. i love your savage tan that you gave me. i love your reggae festivals on the santa monica pier and dancing in your sand drunk as a skunk. i love skinny dipping with you at midnight. i love how you made me so very happy.







here we are in venice. we came for the doors cover band, stayed for the crazies. and barfights. and shiteous food. and pitchers of delicious beer (of which i had no glutarded part in, but it looked refreshing and yummy). the fearless skinny crazy bitch behind jess is none other than carrie, my new bff. she told jake his body was a wonderland.





we spent a few days on manhattan beach and it just so happens to have become my favorite beach. there's some serious magic in the air there, and it's not just the nuclear power plant down the beach or the copius amounts of ganj or the lovely surfers. it's just far enough from LA that it feels like a whole other world. everyone we met there was happy as a goddamn clam. they surf every single fucking day and they make sure they have jobs that will allow them to do so. they've got it all figured out. it's just like sesame street. it's perfect. can you tell me how to get... back to manhattan beach?





one of the greatest things about being on vacay is drinking during the day. especially when that entails two-for-one margharita happy hour at a tropical gay bar in west hollywood.









toots and the maytals played on the santa monica pier. we picnicked on the beach. we made pina coladas. we danced danced danced with some israelis. we peed under the pier. we wished we never had to leave....