1. 5/2 - Oh Kentish Town, you so funny! Happy Election Day! No, I didn’t pick it up…it could be bath salts or something.

    5/2 - Oh Kentish Town, you so funny! Happy Election Day!

    No, I didn’t pick it up…it could be bath salts or something.

  2. 4/18 - DRUGS NOT TOLERATED HERE The Torriano - Kentish Town

    4/18 - DRUGS NOT TOLERATED HERE

    The Torriano - Kentish Town

  3. They call it the “Hokey Cokey” over here and not the “Hokey Pokey”. That’s what it’s all about.

    — The “hokey cokey” is a completely different dance. They play it in West Hollywood all the time.

  4. 6/4 - After Hours - Jack’s Restaurant I’ve been hitting up some amazing old diners. I’ve avoided chain restaurants pretty well this whole journey aside from a stop in Eugene at a Wendy’s because nothing was open at 2am on a Tuesday. Jack’s Restaurant comes from what I call the “Diner Space Age” and like any greasy spoon it’s nearly impossible to find something vegetarian friendly on the menu. I love watching people undrunk themselves in the after hours atmosphere. It’s the behavior I’d see pretty exclusively while driving a cab on Fri/Sat nights. This was a tuesday and the place was still pretty packed. This gent next to me was a sight to behold. Totally wacked out of his mind from what seems like years of abusing either speed or crack (and maybe a bit of coke) he imparted plenty of “wisdom” in the form of fractured fairy tales from the bible. Terrible misquotations and judgements on “living right”. And he said he had like 5 kids or something. Idiocracy is real, people. He was finishing a smoke out front when I rolled up in Liz and immediately as I got out he asked me “Is that for sale?! and without missing a beat I said “Fuck No!” (as if I’d sell my HOUSE) and he continued by offering me a Harley-Davidson as trade so I turned him down by saying “I only ride vintage Japs, duuuude”; and on walked past into the restaurant. It’s not really true, I’ll ride anything; but I felt the need to diminish any overzealous affinity for American iron. A bike should be judged on it’s merits and not it’s nationality. Besides, Europeans do it better than either. So of course I go in and get seated at the counter and guess who came back in and was sitting RIGHT NEXT to me. Ugh. If the stools werent bolted to the ground I would have moved my chair as far from his voice as possible. If you meet this guy. Punch him for me. Local characters man. Never in short supply anywhere you go.

    6/4 - After Hours - Jack’s Restaurant

    I’ve been hitting up some amazing old diners. I’ve avoided chain restaurants pretty well this whole journey aside from a stop in Eugene at a Wendy’s because nothing was open at 2am on a Tuesday.

    Jack’s Restaurant comes from what I call the “Diner Space Age” and like any greasy spoon it’s nearly impossible to find something vegetarian friendly on the menu. I love watching people undrunk themselves in the after hours atmosphere. It’s the behavior I’d see pretty exclusively while driving a cab on Fri/Sat nights. This was a tuesday and the place was still pretty packed.

    This gent next to me was a sight to behold. Totally wacked out of his mind from what seems like years of abusing either speed or crack (and maybe a bit of coke) he imparted plenty of “wisdom” in the form of fractured fairy tales from the bible. Terrible misquotations and judgements on “living right”. And he said he had like 5 kids or something. Idiocracy is real, people.

    He was finishing a smoke out front when I rolled up in Liz and immediately as I got out he asked me “Is that for sale?! and without missing a beat I said “Fuck No!” (as if I’d sell my HOUSE) and he continued by offering me a Harley-Davidson as trade so I turned him down by saying “I only ride vintage Japs, duuuude”; and on walked past into the restaurant. It’s not really true, I’ll ride anything; but I felt the need to diminish any overzealous affinity for American iron. A bike should be judged on it’s merits and not it’s nationality. Besides, Europeans do it better than either.

    So of course I go in and get seated at the counter and guess who came back in and was sitting RIGHT NEXT to me. Ugh. If the stools werent bolted to the ground I would have moved my chair as far from his voice as possible.

    If you meet this guy. Punch him for me.

    Local characters man. Never in short supply anywhere you go.

  5. Day 16 - Los Feliz - You’re not baller until you have a zen garden full of coke.

    Day 16 - Los Feliz - You’re not baller until you have a zen garden full of coke.