davidology: (Default)
I just passed a tourist on the street trying to flag a cab.

Unless it's 2 am (when the bars close) or you're in front of a hotel, that rarely works here.

You (usually) need to call a cab.

This isn't Manhattan, and they don't just drive around for shits and giggles!

If you're in W Hollywood, call Beverly Hills Cab @ (310) 273-6611. Write it on your arm or something. They're super quick. BUT, you need to have an address. Telling them to meet at the corner of x and y usually won't fly. They want an address.

Remember the info you gave them, because they may quiz you when they show up (people will steal your cab). The BH cabs are so awesome they generally check to see if you are whom they're supposed to be picking up.

If for some reason Bev Hills Cab doesn't work, backup is: Yellow Cab... (877) 733-3305.

Anywho... that's my good deed for the day. Write the shit down. Live it; love it; drink it.


davidology: (Default)
This weekend brought on more packing, but first Friday night I decided to try on my princess parking [PDF]. Our new parking district I've learned is below Sunset, between the Beverly Hills city line and Hancock Ave, so I was able to walk to The Abbey. I hung out with a few friends. I'm not entirely sure why, how, or when, but one of my friends gave me some of his ADHD medicine. If you've seen Bart on Focalin (Focasin??), that was me. Despite my drunken state, when my roommate and I got home to our old/current place, I took down two shelves, a set of mirrors, my DVD rack, and packed all of my DVDs.

Saturday, my roommate and I needed grease and red meat to take care of the prior evening's hangover, so we had lunch at The Counter where we saw Owen Wilson, which was kinda random. Then we picked up the keys to the new pad, and spent several hours between OSH and Homo Depot. Seriously, we entered Home Depot in the day light, and left when it was pitch black, yet still did not find everything we needed. I did, however, find a toilet seat that has springs or something to prevent it from slamming down.

Sunday (today), we spent most of the day changing out the door knobs, light switches, and electrical sockets (it had those nasty ivory-colored monstrosities). Sadly, we only got through half of the switches and sockets. As we were leaving, our new neighbor had our future wall bumping pretty hard from the techno he was listening to. Techno and house should really never be listened to sober.

Next weekend is the big move. This week's gonna be hella busy.

This is a couple months old, but it's been stuck in my head all weekend since having chocolate martinis at The Abbey.

Nobody hates the chocolate!

[edit:. My roommate introduced me to Costco meatballs tonight. They're like little orgasms in my mouth.]


davidology: (Default)

July 2013

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