So, it's Monday, is it?

I'm tired of sweating. I'm moving to Syracuse, where summer only lasts three weeks. Okay, not really. I love LA. I hate the sweating though. And it was hot this weekend folks, hotter than a freshly...well, it was hot. My puny little fan was not cutting it. It was the equivalent of having someone blow on your face. It doesn't help that my sofa is covered in an itchy/tweedy blend.

I got a mani-pedi on Saturday. They told me the pedicure chairs were "booked all day" but they'd squeeze me in if they could. It didn't look good for ol' gnarly toes until Cathy, my manicurist, took it upon herself to commandeer a chair for me and do my pedicure herself. What a gal! She even gave me cute flowers. However, she incurred the wrath of one of her fellow employees, Lu, who proceeded to rant at her in their native tongue. Cathy didn't seem to mind and gave Lu a classic "whatev" look. I tipped her generously.

Why won't Michael's stock more than just rudimentary knitting supplies? Would it kill them to have a freakin' selection?

Sunday was laundry day. Frau Landlady was just leaving the backyard area when I was packing my trunk with laundry. She said she's working on getting a laundry facility in the back where the sheds are, which would be sweet. She was so nice to me that I felt a little guilty for badmouthing her on a regular basis. I got over it.
Anywho, I bought a Crunch Wrap at Taco Bell before going to the Laundromat so I could get change. The bills they gave me looked like they'd been used to scrub the bathroom. So, I took my ten to 7-11 to get change and they bills they gave me were just as bad. He wouldn't change them for better bills because they "don't give change for the Laundromat." Well, I'm not asking for change; I'm asking for you to exchange the bills you gave me for something that isn't barely worthy of circulation. Fortunately, the attendant gave me change.
So, packed my clothes in, started the washer and left me baskets in front, then headed to the car for my book. When I returned from the 10-foot trip, a gaggle of women had swarmed the folding table area in front of my washer and literally threw my baskets across the floor. Bitches!!! I think they fucked with my washer too, because I absolutely pushed the cold water button for my shirts and they were most definitely warm when I removed them from the washer. Arrgghh!
Then--some creepy guy was watching me fold my laundry and I actually saw him touch himself while I was folding my panties. Ew! EWWWW! He was wearing short shorts, too. The kind they work in the late 70's/ early 80's with knee-high tube socks and Nikes. EEEWWWW! Involuntary shivers running down my spine.

Does anyone care that Jimmy cracked corn?

I just ruined a shot for "Entourage." They are filming, or were, on Sunset Blvd, and I had to run out and shout across the street to our maintenance guy. I saw the folks sitting around with cameras and what not, but I thought nothing of it. This is LA. I stopped about midway down the street and shouted "Russell!" He didn't hear me. So, I walked farther down the street, right in front of all the idle film crew and shouted again. "Russell! Call me when you're done over there." I turned to walk back up the street when I notice Vinnie Chase (aka Adrian Grenier) sitting on the steps in front of Tower Records, and the entire entourage (pardon the pun) of film folk giving me the stare of death as I sauntered back to my office. Oops. I stopped a safe distance away and watched the scene play out. He, Vinnie, is standing in front of Tower, while some chick with a big Tiffany's bag is walking down the street. Vinnie then runs across Sunset Blvd. Aaaaand Scene! If you're an "Entourage" watcher, look for that scene and know that I ruined a take.

I'm tired. I want to go home now, please. What? I have to actually do some work first? Ah, man! Are you serious? Okay. I'll, oh, I don't know, finish typing something. How's that? Will that work?

I was going to include a gratuitous vacation photo but Blogger is sucking the big one today and won't upload images. Poop!