Tuesday, November 18, 2008

the public got a little more public

It's hilarious that after I have to write a paper for class, the topic presents itself in my daily world. Perhaps it makes you more aware, but I think its coincidence.
Riding the bus yesterday was showing some serious lack in candidates for blog-central. But, I didn't lose hope. Because even with my headphones BLARING my "GET WET DISC 2" compilation I made, I still heard "IT." And yes, I did say CD, my iPod has been on a 3 week hiatus from my life, and I found my "car ready anti-skip" SONY walkman from high school when iPods were just a glimmer in Mac's sac. Anyways, this paper I wrote was the arising issue of cell phone users in public places polluting "air space" asking if there should be a law passed banning users from certain public places because of personal space issues. Not everyone want's to hear about your Gyno appointment yesterday with the hot doctor probing you while I'm waiting for my bread sticks at Olive Garden. Just sayin. Public places, just got a lot more public. So this "gal" on the bus.... Now, I know a thing or two about loud talking, I myself practice the art of it, but I also practice the art of not being a rude bitch. The entire 30 minute ride, I heard this lady's conversation through my obscenely loud Cam'ron. "HEYLOOOO, you tell Raheem that Tisha is fuckin pickin up da caur, so fuck Ray Ray cuz I'm en LA and it's all dat muthafugahz fauwlt." Along with this atrocious conversation, corresponding hand gestures and movements followed while bouncing on the bench seat diagonally from me. I feared, even in my sunglasses, to look in the general direction for the pure reason that her hot pink tipped nails reached over 2 inches long and looked like they had some dried blood under them. She got this real classy ass outfit on, rockin a T-Mart brand opal white puffy jacket (uh, bitch it's like 87 degrees outside), a sparkly glitter tube top and some nasty ass pink flip flops what looked like spray painted cardboard they were so worn. There is absolutely nothing wrong with dressing cheap, as long as you don't look it. Because although she did have her nails did, they weren't even airbrushed or bedazzled. There's a fine line. Now continuing, beyond her infectious personality, she was also a real sweet heart. Because a this gentleman hobbled onto the bus with a mother fucking neck brace at the ripe age of a possible 65 fighting for a seat before the bus' abrupt start would surly send him on to back brace as well, and he lost at all costs at the seat game. This ravishing work of art lady has her legs stretched out over the 3 wide bench seat and refuses to move her legs. I'm appalled, not only does she have a piece of work mouth, but her manners are through the roof. But I'm sure on her "walk of shame" to the bus in her cardboard shoes, she would need to put those feet up. So me being the kind citizen I am, and on the verge of tears every single time I see an elderly person, I offer up my seat to the man. I spend the rest of my ride listening to loud mouth mcgee wave her hands around like she was landing planes at LAX and talk shit about Ray Ray and the word "muthafugah" enough to send me to the next millennium, even with my precious mouth, I was over it. So after writing this paper saying there should NOT be a ban on use of cellular devices in public areas, I decided to change my thesis.

Saturday, November 15, 2008


As much as I bitch and complain slash love the bus, that should be my ONLY means of transpiration. One being, driving with half of you, I swear to God, I might as well just sit in an oversized tire and roll myself around traffic, because that actually seems more than 3/4 safer than putting a strap-o-death over me while in your passenger seat. Leave the fast driving to Dale, the power slides to tokyo drifting and driving slower than my rock tumbler polishing my geo's to the old people, and for fuck sake, learn to how to merge this isn't "CLUELESS". The only person I can stand driving with is Martine, mostly because we've had 5 years of WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT 3 LANE CHANGE and SLOW THE FUCK DOWN SPEED RACER to get a happy middle ground. But people as a mass, should never drive. Everyone thinks they are impeccable at driving, even the DMV lady that passed me and I wasn't even sure she could touch the steering wheel past that "extra love" layer she hung out with. Not having a car has forced me to fall in love with LA's WORST fucking transportation system, but also a new appreciation for bikers. And I really am not talking about the Lance's that prance around in their unitards, I'm talking about the jawn's that wear their Carl's Jr. uniform and bike to work. You are the lone ranger, not in a Tour De Prance circle jerk. While you ride, your main objective is not to reach your destination, but to not get fucking hit. I have learned on the mean streets of LA, no one fucking cares, and if you're on a bike, you're fucked. NO ONE PAYS ANY FUCKING ATTENTION, I knew this from years of car accidents I was apart of or had the chance to witness. But while biking, you might as well throw yourself on the hood of that car, because it's going to happen anyways.
In the span of a less than 30 minute trip to 7-11 and back from the library, I almost got hit 5 fucking times, 3 from the same parking lot. I did the whole, raise your arms up and yell mean shit thing, but this one bitch.... this ONE FUCKING BITCH. Yeah, fuck you and your Michael's craft store experience because you almost made me into a "RED ASPHALT" statistic. We'll say her name is "Yvon" (cos its a French ass name) and we'll say she was going MACH 24 in a parking lot as she was approaching the street to exit, I am on the side walk (because if you know anything about riding a bike down here, you don't ride in the street if you want to live, kinda like an Arnold thing to say...but true) riding my 7 speed listening to my jams because thats the only way I roll. Yvon over here, doesn't even look, I'm almost positive she didn't even look at the traffic she was merging into, just was going to "chance it" and see how it worked out, and I'm approaching. I'm in the right because I'm pretty much in the drive way by this point and she still hasn't seen me, I freak. What is this bitch doing, are you seriously going to hit me with your Lexus SUV? Still doesn't see me, no way am I going to make it across the drive way so I stop because she's fucking hitting the NOS tanks to get into the street and out of this parking lot. STILL DOESN'T FUCKING SEE ME! My only reaction is to throw my hot dog bun full of condiments (my dinner) at this bitches fucking wack ass car, it splatters and she halts. She tries to scream at me, I'm all thinking you know whattt YOU'R RIGHT, I PROBABLY SHOULDN'T BE ALIVE BIKING ON A PUBLIC STREET IN THE WAY OF YOUR INDIE 5000. So me being the bitch I am stop right in front of her car and proceed to say "OH WELL HELLO THERE TOO, YOU FUCKING DUMB CUNT. I'M SO GLAD YOU HAVE A LICENSE AND I DON'T, MAYBE YOU SHOULD PAY ATTENTION AND GET THE FUCK OFF MY EARTH." I at that point was amused, she was furious. I'm thinking, yes, get mad, you almost killed me, makes sense, and rode on. Riding a bike in LA, fucking sucks. People fucking suck. It's just me and the metro from here on out.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

escuche por favor mi CD

With all the tax dollars I'm paying, I'm so thankful that its going to my flat screen entertainment on the metro. Now if they'd show "Transit TV" in ENGLISH. However it does have "Transit Trivia" testing my useless knowledge of "what was the name of the bomb dropped on Hiroshima?" and "the first street in Los Angeles was?" Of course, these questions, my stock tips and the Bio of an inner city up and coming rap artist are in English... But HEY! I sure as fuck could sell you some CDs in Spanish now, at least I have something to fall back on, just incase the whole bachelor's degree thing doesn't work out.

Sunday, November 9, 2008


"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. — That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, — That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness."
- Declaration of Independence

Today's entry, has nothing to do with the metro, but shouldn't be overlooked non the less. For all of those who voted YES on 8, I do not wish harm on you, but however the power of knowledge and the understanding of love without barriers. I have supported rights of all people since I knew right from wrong while exercising my freedom of choice and speech, with or without my parents support. All people should be granted civil rights, and the right to love regardless, this is fucking America. I was at the PRO-GAY protest in Hollywood tonight, I was there to do something I believe in, in hopes of a better future for man kind where we all are united and blind to differences. We made signs "I BELIEVE IN SEPARATION OF CHURCH AND HATE," chanting "BLACK WHITE GAY STRAIGHT WE WANT EQUALITY" etc, and marched down Santa Monica Blvd. with over 20,000 people strong who supported genderless love. We shut down streets and made a point to be heard. I was stricken with such compassion and hope, it was so beautiful to see people coming together for a common goal. It was extremely emotional for me to see such love in an unloving world.
Land of the free? When did Rights turn into a Vote? We are all human beings, why don't you try to fucking treat each other as such. How does someone else's love affect your daily life? Because your selfish choice affects theirs. So when do Gay's have the right to vote on YOUR marriage? Everyone wants Peace and Happiness, so who's going to make the first move? Never has there ever been such an opportunity for change. Understanding is the road to repair.  

I'm going to look back on this when I'm older and tell my kids that I stood up for a just cause that I had nothing to do with. I may not be gay, but I don't believe banning Gay marriage is right in any sense, nor is banning it going to save the world. We have bigger fish to fry.

Monday, November 3, 2008


Oh, odd, I had to run for the bus, again. I'm sure everyone on the metro gets a good laugh at the short girl running with a back pack. It reminds me of middle school where all the kids would sprint to the cafeteria like they were going to run out of french fries as soon as the bell rang. Those with wheelie backpacks were prayed on, in the span of 3 years I more than likely kicked over 300 and twisted some arms. I guess karma's a bitch? Because now I look like the 22 year old idiot. 

What very well could have been an uneventful metro ride texting Rashod about how I apparently look like a bike punk today, turned beautiful. Just because I ride a bike and wear double hooded jackets with painted on skinny jeans doesn't mean i ride a fix gear, its a 7 speed, the EZ rider BIG PURP is RIP-in. Back to the beautifulness of this bus ride. Now, in class I had to write a paper about a "black" vs "white" nation and being a certain way shouldn't be associated with a color, so right now I guess I'm being an extreme hypocrite, but I'll leave that discussion for my Journalism class. This lovely character was a hefty male that I'll roughly judge being in his 30's. 30 and flirty, nothing wrong with that age, its just a number people. But however, what did put a sparkle in my eye was his overall appearance and demeanor. 

He had on a wife beater where his bitch tits were hanging out the sides along with his connecting chest to pit hair, which really made me warm inside. Top shelf though, was the do rag he had over his long blonde hair in a pony tail that looked longer than mine. As my eyes were having a buffet of pure goodness to devour, I noticed some crafty forearm tattoos. How hood. Determining if it was Times New Roman or Ariel font was the hard part, but there was no denying that they said "THUG LIFE." I'm not positive what he was listening to if it was Trick Daddy or Clipse, but he was rocking out so so hard and pouting his lips, I'm positive he was rocking the bus not the shit-for-a-road LA pavement. I mean, because when I listen to Trick Daddy or Clipse I make shit bounce, just sayin. Enough of me, more Don Gudio. As I watched this majestic creature in his element like a rare unicorn, I couldn't help but have extreme appreciation for his lack of care, not only for his appearance, but because he made over exaggerated movements to zip his fly up. I made it apparent I was staring too, I went as far as to take a picture with my phone (will post later when LAVC wifi stops sucking monster cock). He was quite the classy individual though, for when he straight up buck nocked the girl next to him, he apologized in the most sheepish feminine voice I would have never expected out of this beast. I left him today on the bus, but his memory will live on burned in my skull for at least a few days. "You won't fuck him," you know what Rashod, you're right. Next time, though....

On the way home a lady in her 60s was listening to "Sexual Healing" by Marvin Gaye on a disc man. Just thought you should know that people still use disc mans and bitches in their 60s still like to get down.


I know that these tables are open to all over LAVC, but when someone is sitting alone and being quite doing work, don't fucking slam down your obnoxious Victoria's Secret Pink tote bag on my picnic table and bring your fucking study group to reek havoc in my area, I don't give one fuck what you got wrong on your Bio test. I'm enjoying the outsideness via wifi, FUCK OFF. Sooo I'll just turn up At The Gates on my iTunes. Didn't like that too much, huh? Fancy that.

Dirt Nasty - 1980

"I ain't no amateur, this isn't hands across america, I lived though the 80s, an shit was crazy"

Wednesday, October 29, 2008


Just as my luck would have it, a few days ago I got a fucking SMOKING ticket on the bus platform, I WOULD get a ticket for smoking.... I rarely ever smoke, but of course, the one time I do, I would get a ticket for it. Since then I have been more observant of posted signs and other law breakers, and if it weren't for my obsessive nature to smile at people that look like they're having a bad day, Mr. Sheriff wouldn't have slowed his roll and backed up on the busway therefore making ME have a bad day, WHERE THE FUCK IS MY SMILE, STRANGERS? Moving on and forward, today as I once again had to run for the bus, a noticed an unaware law breaker. He was huffing down a ciggie like he had been smoking with both hands since birth, which very well could be true from his appearance. Where are the sheriffs now? Hmm, jerking themselves off with the radar gun I suppose. Thank you judicial system, you are truly just. 

Number one reason public transportation blows, crying babies. Simply. I'm not a hater on the future of tomorrow's current milk issues, but when I have to sit through 20 minutes of non-stop crying in a small space, already bugged because my sorry excuse for an iPod is in someone's glove box, I'm almost bound to lose my shit. And trust me, I know a thing or two about doing whatever it takes to get your kid to shut the fuck up thanks to my step mom, but breast feeding on the bus is a no no on all accounts. Half of Los Angeles didn't need to see that, some did, I didn't. But 2 things that I do extremely appreciate and might be overlooked to the untrained eye, but thanks to my creeper status I ravish in them. One being the decked out black kid so so fresh that he's even got studded ear rings that say "sexy," that's got me thinking "oh,... really?" And as he sits down shoots looks like "sooooooo, listen...uhh can I have it?" And if you have no idea what I'm talking about you need to youtube "Can I Have Your Number - MadTv" only funny thing MadTv has ever put out, ever. I make myself giggle on the Metro, I get it how I need it. Where I proceed to text Martine so she too can partake in these events, where her response was "WHO TAUGHT HIM THAT" which I unhesitatingly texted back "MTV." Secondly, the hefty Mexican dude who was falling asleep standing up directly in front of me, I was so afraid you were going to topple onto my unscuffed nike's. Did you feel my eyes engulfing your prison tattoos? There were more tits than a porno on your forearm to make AVN jealous and those 3 tear drops made me drop a tear myself. Brown pride tattoos with single needles have to be my absolute favorite, I couldn't help but notice that you had just breasts with a sombrero hovering over them. Are those the only good parts of a woman, boobs and siesta time hats? I was hoping for at least some ass... wait, sounded wrong. 

I honestly hope I shed some light on people's marine layer day with my horrificly awesome texts about the metro. If you're not lucky enough to get a daily dose of "WTF" messages, sorry, read the blog. And for people in the states that don't know what "marine layer" is, they're CLOUDS, watch the weather channel.  


So, there's this kid that I see at school, might be 1 of 5 white guys I bump into daily and he's the cutest thing this side of Van Nuys Blvd. Thank goodness I wear sunglasses every day and can't see me eye fucking him back as we pass. I wish he rode the bus so I can eye molest him longer, no talking. I'm guna make the move on this long blonde babe. Watch me.

Side Note: This gal Meiko sings some legit stuff, it's overly adorable and my obsession for the week. "Boys With Girlfriends" and "Reasons to Love You," check it.

Monday, October 27, 2008

This Bud's For You

Side note: crazy drunk dude from last post, is a teacher at my school. The next day I saw him in line at the cafeteria while I was purchasing my eco friendly water that gives portions of money to build wells in impoverished nations and he got oil from the vats in the kitchen. He was still a douche bag in line.

I woke up ridiculously late for school, well, I usually wake up ridiculously early for school, so I guess it'd actually just be normal time. Anyways, this throws me off my normal bus routine with the usual suspects, but there were some prime candidates that made this little mix up worth while. I don't know Airwalk was still in business, but apparently they are and thriving off the Los Angeles metro go-ers. You'd think something hard to find would be more expensive, like limited edition, hmm limited edition Airwalks, do they have those? Maybe I'm just missing something and not shopping my local sneaker barn enough. Props to Airwalks, let '94 live on. But something that baffles me even more than keeping 90's apparel alive that isn't flannels is "silky button ups". Granted this term is not dictionary bound, but has defiantly planted ground in my vocabulary almost daily.You too have seen this divine piece of garment worn at your local market, the mall, and even worse, THE club. This "silky button up" consists of just that, a button up that is somewhat flow like material that usually is kept for middle aged golf players hitting balls in Florida, but also has one key element that crosses the line from golf pro to "how old are you again?" There usually is some sort of tribal all over print overlaying an obnoxious colored shirt that looks like a sunset, or some sort of ferocious animal such as a panther or my personal favorite, Dragon Ball Z. The kind of people that wear the unmistakeable silky button up are never surprising, it's just surprising they detached from their game console for a brief moment to hit the food court. But then there's the once and a while too good to pass up dude that embodies the button up better than the Worlds of Warcraft nerds, "the Player." This black guy (out of the norm, its usually asians and acne white dudes) guy on the bus was "the Player" in full effect. He wore the fuck out of his Bangle Tiger silky button up, it was even accented with Asian characters to give it extra flare. What really did it for me though, was the black tribal against his skin, hard to make out, but undeniable. This Bud's for you mister silky button up cool guy, for wearing it out in public and rocking that fake platinum chain so hard almost makes you legit in my book. Not only is riding the metro awkward 8 out of 10 times mostly because I'm the only blonde person to grace the aisle, but because of the siting vs. standing arrangement. This morning as I decided to sit in the mid section of the bus that connects the front to the back, just incase of an accident and we jack knife I'll be the first to go. But because of the time difference in my riding schedule the bus was packed and thank God I didn't have stand, but today, I would have much rather to do so. I had some Hispanic, navy blue Dickie's wearing, Cortez ese groping his Shy Girl baby moma standing right on top of me. Normally, I wouldn't mind such a situation, but when the situation heads south and your Papi straddles my knee and obviously is grinding me not going with the rocking of the bus, I'm likely to have issues. It might be one of the rare instances in which I had no idea what to do, I couldn't move my legs, I'm not going to be all "hey I'm not really into playin pony today, so could you get the fuck off?," and I'm not about to scrap some baby oil haired bitch about her joke of a man. So, I suffer. Dear metro, you are at times extremely awkward. 


I could have certainly over looked the gems that were presented to me this after noon on my way home, but why? As I was entering the surprisingly on time metro, I swear to God himself that Snoop Dogg got off. It all happened so fast, but with reasonable doubt I still believe that it was him. So the events that follow on this mini adventure are an accumulation of "wtf" and "fuck right off"s. My main goal is to be super sneaky undercover lurk specialist, and I do my job with ease and technique with the help of sunglasses and hard facial expressions. Behind my tinted lens I'm unbeknownst to you making eye contact, Mr. Bus go-er, and little do you know that while you are doing your best to lock eyes with me and create a craiglist misconnection, I am looking back throwing up in my throat. Like the Mexican dude sitting in the corner staring at me as if you REALLY DID have x-ray vision you fucking pervo making pouting faces at me like you're secretly blowing kisses. You can go ahead and fuck off. And the trashy bitch talking so loud that I can even hear her breathing patterns through her only 2 words "motherfucker" and "ouwhhhh" trying to talk as ghetto as possible to the cracked out black dude with 2 week old braids that are falling out and fro-ing around his head. I thought if this bus were to stop suddenly, I'd fly into her folds and get lost for weeks. And ultimate creep move of the day, the he/she that sat down, lurked the bus, then moved to the open seat right in front of me and stared at me the remainder of the ride while you also played on your nintendo DS, diddling yourself. FUCK YOU BENCH SEATING! goddamn the bus. But its so good at the same time.



Also, completely irrelevant to the bus, but more to Los Angeles Valley College guy student body. Attention to all guys that believe they are fashionable, Ed Hardy is not fashionable. And while we're at it, lets just give a huge shout out to any dude that thinks Ed Hardy looks good, it doesn't. Sorry to burst your bubble.


Wednesday, October 22, 2008


So for my Journalism English class, we are obviously given at least 8 papers to write per week and at least one of them have to be a short narrative essay. Writing creative essays out of no where with mild inspiration every week can be a daunting task which sometimes depletes my "no ends" brain to feeling like I have a raisin in my skull. So to end the constant dread of keeping up with the one of a kind witty reputation I've made for myself in class, I decided to write all my narrative essays on my insane metro experiences. Seeing as though I ride nearly every day, I'm almost guaranteed at least one crazy person screaming about religion to the whole back of the bus, spitting while they talk and living in a world where they think people are actually listening. This is one of my recent essays, I am so easily entertained, it's magical. 

Every day I ride the bus to school, and every day its a new and always exciting story. I wake up ridiculously early for school to give myself enough time to get ready or figure if I want to sleep in, but without a doubt, I will miss the bus. I have a routine, I ride my bike to the bus platform and as I pass by I watch the bus dock and take off before I make it across the street to lock my bike up. That gives me enough time to walk across the street back to the platform and wait for the bus to be late, but never in my favor. I climb aboard and search for the least creepy seating arrangement, sit, and people watch for the next thirty minutes til I arrive at my stop. People come and go, there are people that I consider the usuals and then there are the people that burn unforgettable images into my head associated with sounds and or smells. Just yesterday I sat on the three seat wide bench, giving optimal people watching view, the brightly colored seat next to me was open, and so were about fifteen other seats, but of course I will get the one individual that has to sit next to me, always. He was an older gentleman in relaxed attire that had been obviously relaxed in past its time. He smelled of someone working outside under the blistering sun for four days and used baby powder as an alter bath. I didn't mind, I'd turn the other way and continue on with watching the girl near the front of the bus lip sync to what looked like to me as R&B due to her head grooves and face making. But what I did not notice was that the man also had a Quizno's bag which could be filled with a lunch? No, it was defiantly a slightly brown leaking substance with the stench of my trash bins the day of pick up, accompanying that was a musk of Boon's Farm liquor as he breathed heavily over me like I didn't notice him staring at my body. I'm thinking to myself, "well at least men are still attracted to me" after my recent crash and burn of a relationship. But the awkwardness of this bus ride was going to an extreme as I felt it was necessary to explain to the man that if he didn't get back to his side of the seat, that I myself would make him. Thank God that at that very moment, it was my stop and my time to reflect on these events. I walked to class wondering what person starts their day out at ten am pounding not only Boon's Farm before they ride the bus, but even more caring around liquid garbage. Made me just say "people, they're so odd individually." And it's very true. Every time I ride the bus I feel like I get smarter, learning about our human race. The bus is always a good time, weather it's a bad time or not, I always have a story at the end of the day.


I'm starting a blog about my daily metro adventures, because they are just too good to not. Coming home every day with overly entertaining stories about the greater Los Angeles area bus rides should not go forgotten. There's the randoms, the usuals I seem to have a schedule with and the unforgettables that make riding the metro worth my 30 minute trips to and from school oh the more exciting. I live for riding the metro for this group of people as different as they are. People in general are odd, but people as an individual are fucking mind blowing.  

Dear dude at the back of the bus, I want you.