If I told you half the crazy things I’ve seen, you wouldn’t believe most of them.

For instance, a guy came into the bike shop about two weeks ago who hadn’t worn shoes in eleven years. He’d modified his pedals with reinforced flip-flops. He said his feet are dirty, but not callused. I thought it was pretty cool.

I met a woman who is ninety-nine and a half years old who was an actress in olden times. If I make it to twenty-five and a half years old I’ll be more than surprised.

At some point I was walking with my bike on a very windy day when I saw a man enjoying himself at my expense. Since I did not consent, I found this wrong, and since I am a photographer, I snapped a picture as quickly as I could before he ran away, and since I am smart, I called the police. I am not going to dignify that fellow with that photo here. And anyway, it’s already been issued throughout the Santa Monica police department. I am pretty sure he won’t be showing his face (Or his dick) anytime soon.

If we’ve learned anything from the above incident, it’s that that’s no proper way to leave your mark.

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A sidewalk in Silver Lake was the scene of a terrible bicycle mutilation.

A sidewalk in West Hollywood was the scene of a popular political movement.

I bought a shiny new MacBook. It’s for “work.”

But even a new MacBook can’t change the fact that right now in my life, the glasses often feel only half full.

Or that I’ve reached a certain stale mate.

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But if you can keep a secret, the secret is that this party is going to be really fun (So come).

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