august twelfth , two thousand two


i don't mean to be high profile


the other day i was lookin fer an address . that belonged to a nice house , south of hollywood . with a pool and furnishings that are beyond my account . the house was taken over knowing that the owners wouldn't come back , and we had been given some sort of implied permission to be there anyway .

but before that , i was looking for the address .
thats when i happened upon officer " won't take my turn to go at the four way stop sign " , lapd . even after i waived him thru . bastard .
same old dumb cop trick , fer the same old dumb cops .
i continued going straight . the cop follows me fer fifty yards , then turns away .

after a few minutes of searching a neighborhood i don't frequent , i find the house in the middle of the street . i flipped a u - turn and parked .
just as soon as i got my feet on the ground , i reached for my eighteen - pack of treasure . but was immediately struck when i saw a suspiciously familiar car driving my way . i am at least surprised ( grateful ) that he didn't hit the lights and squawk his siren just to feel better .

he asked me fer my car registration .

i knew he had run my license plate

he said there was something wrong with my registration . i knew there wasn't i had just re registered two months ago . from the outside i look law abiding .

the cop comes back with my papers and confesses that the numbers on my plate weren't the same ones that were entered on his little copputer .

he gets in his car and drives off .

without so much as an aplology . though , i wasn't expecting one .

in the next seven hours i drink twelve beers , have an awesome meal prepared by my favorite photographer's wife and then drive home .





of note :

august twelfth , nineteen eighty - eight , jean - michel basquiat dies of a heroin overdose in new york .