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2003-09-26

Hi again! If you hadn't noticed, I am traveling around the US and writing about it. I am looking for nice, fun people who can put me up for a few nights and feed me and pay my way (since I am broke) and show me a good time (since I like good times). If you think it might be fun to host me for a day or two or three, email me at justingrace AT mac DOT com with your info and address and phone number. I am especially looking for places to stay in the southern USA and the south part of the East Coast. I will be traveling all over, but here are the places I will be in the next few weeks that I am still looking for a place to stay at:

• Texas: Between Austin, TX and Louisiana
• Mississippi
• Alabama
• Tennessee
• North/South Carolina
• Georgia

Thanks in advance for your help! And now...



US Tour Day 10, Part 1: Santa Monica and the Ministry of Unknown Science

I started my day at the Theory Labs, waking up in the mismatched nest of pillows and blankets and couch cushions. It was starting to feel like home there on the jumble of cloth and padding, in the loft high above the warehouse floor.


Someone else with another late 1980's X1/9 parked next to mine in Santa Monica. I got confused at first, wondering how my car lost its spoiler and all of a sudden looked even crappier than it did when I parked it only a few hours earlier. There aren't many cars like this around, and I thought it was a cute gesture for the owner of the car to park next to me.

I rocketed off to Santa Monica to meet up with Thi. Thi was one of my two friends from my high school. I had plenty of friends, just very few from my actual school. Now that she lives in Santa Monica I only get to see her very rarely—during her infrequent visits to San Jose. This time we met for both business and pleasure. She had agreed to invest the money needed to reproduce the first few thousand copies of my forthcoming CD, and this would be our chance to discuss the details of this deal. We did our best to work through the business stuff first so we could quickly move on to simply having fun and enjoying one another's company.


Me atop my car at the beach in Santa Monica.

She took me to sushi and then to the beach, where we went swimming. In the ocean, no less. Now, if you are from Northern California you know that swimming in the ocean is not just idiotic, it's life–theratening. It makes the Arctic Ocean seem like a sauna cranked up to broil on the hottest day of summer. Swimming in the Pacific Ocean anywhere north of San Luis Obispo is a sure way to get hypothermia. If you somehow luck out and don't get hypothermia you can count on the loss of use of your sex organs for days, if not weeks—it's like having your most tender bits burned off with liquid nitrogen.

I was used to NorCal ocean, so it never occurred to me that one could actually swim in an actual ocean without aforementioned penis destruction and hospitalization. But, Thi showed me that you could swim and body surf and float around and have a great time in the ocean if you happened to be in Southern California. Seriously, I had no idea. Swimming, in the ocean. Who knew?

I splashed around and shouted to her about how amazing it all was and how much fun I was having. In the back of my mind I remembered being warned that the water in that area was polluted, but I ignored this thought. I was having too much fun to worry about the future as long as my testicles weren't freezing off. I was actually swimming in the ocean, damn it!


This is a person who has just had all his orifices defiled by toxic, sandy water. Man, all this talk about orifices getting defiled is getting me totally hard.

After getting copious toxic, salty water in my mouth and plenty of sand in orifices I didn't even know I had, it was time to say goodbye to Thi and head back to the Theory Labs. Tonight The Ministry of Unknown Science was doing a reading of Ashton Kutcher Pinches Loaves for Dick, and now way did I want to miss it. I wanted to get front row seats so I could masturbate to their offensive comedy and my penis wanted a clear view of the stage. Maybe I might even hit one of them with my divinely inspired spurting. That is, if I got a good enough seat.


The Gigsville neon sign lights up the wall at Theory Labs.


Me and Rico Gagliano. Yes he is cool and smart and funny and a great DJ and a brilliant writer and a genius and is funnier than most everyone I know. If you don't already have a crush on him, you better start. If you already do, then join the club.


Rico and the Gigsville sign.


Jason, Tim, and Shaft from the Ministry of Unknown Science reading the most offensive and funny script I have experienced during my few, short years on this planet. This is the part where I jerked off. Ok, not really, but I should have, seriously. It was that funny.


Tim Walker. Don't you just want to hate fuck his face?


The crowd went wild. The cast accepted the laughter like your drunk ass accepts hamsters.


Jessika didn't show up until after the reading was over, but showing up in full Porn Klown regalia made up for any tardiness.


Behold the glory of the Porn Klowns. Two representatives cause trippy trouble at the Labs after the reading.




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