This is an airport. The woman across from me is pure ugly Hollywood. I recognize her famous husband and I hate her. Her face is stretched so tight I almost burst out laughing while she placated her two plastic kids. The girl far to the right is wearing stripes and filing her nails. She is naturally beautiful and I hate her. I have not seen her look up once. The man behind me enunciates more than anyone I have ever hated and I hate him the most.

My stay is over and I now retreat to New York. I hope to offend less people there.

The coastest with the mostest.

On Santa Monica blvd.

From morland and family.

Still had that new train smell. Also shaved 45 minutes off the trek.

Featured The Walkmen (pictured), David Cross, and Yo La Tengo.

...put on a damn good show.

We are forced to draw numbers three times. 6-minute arguments separate each draw. The tense hilarity of democracy in action ensues.

Karaoke!

Again with the bar

Now, sake bar.

The novelty of moblogging has not yet worn thin, so I will be documenting my night of Japanese hedonism. Sushi dinner now, sake bar next, and ultimately karaoke.

White Christmas good. White workday bad.

It begins here. Thanks to Aron Atkins for the initial script, and Joi Ito for proving it to be a cogent concept. Images can be clicked-on to see a larger version.