Barnaby from acting class. The Irish spotter at Gold's, and the iron legged bitch on the leg press. Harley keys and bumper #2 of 2019. The Mission Impossible podcast, and the drunk sloppy black girl. NAACP awards. The Archangel X Men figure story. Echoes is back and weekend mic shenanigans. Miami Showband Massacre and "the troubles."

One year of motorcycle. Entertainment bullshit: Barry, True Detective Season, Mad Max, and "Us." The great rock & roll swindle. Sunday in Huntington Beach. The angry Asian chiropractor. Yashar's show at the Foxfire. My roommate's silverware. Bad week for libs, good week for me.

Preamble (?) One more note about that OC bar show. Running on empty. Improv theaters/performers. LA School Of Comedy can kiss my hiney. The Self Righteous Minute™. San Diego sickly sojourn. Mark Normand, live.

The F word. Tricky dicky. Why am I always the guy? Flappers? More like CRAPPERS. The Take and Miller's Crossing. I finished the first draft of my stupid Terminator screenplay that no one could or should care about. All about nukes, you kooks. I'm tired of filthy LA restaurants, and things about Howard Stern.

Fuck this weather. Let's do the Time Warp again. Ji-had Me At Hello screening. The bummer of a weekend: I got sick, I didn't go to EyeHateGod, and the final Kevin Pollak Chat Show experience sucked, unfortunately. Los Angeles is a pain in the ass sometimes. Leaving Neverland documentary and the one about Studio 54. Bert's Back Room is fucking bonkers.

Butt hurt at Bert's. Motley Crue biopic. True Detective, Season 3. Brody Stevens. Adam Carolla and the Virzi's at the Ice House. Quickie on the stupid Academy Awards. The tallest man I've ever seen. Dice Jr at Mel's.

Plugs & shit. I coughed up a mysterious black cloud, and it was alarming. Valentines Day. Black Saturday™ at the Wagon Wheel Factory. Robert Elswit is a peach. The Longest Yard. 'Jussie' Smollett and Bree Larson, I hope she gets hit by a car-son. Things about The Three Stooges.

I don't heart radio. Portrait Of A Young Artist. Grammy slam-my. That time, at Warner Brothers. Eva Angelina. Anti-social media. True Detective season 3, and that Bill Murray Netflix doc. 4 wagon wheels and two hubcaps. I got stuck in my aunt Kelly's electrified barbwire fence one, and then later her farm burned down.

Naked lady playing cards, and pre-internet nudity appreciation. Three Billboards Outside Of Ebbing, Mrs. Sippy and Punisher season 2 both stink. Jury doody and the Cinestate saga. A few hours in Vegas. Soul Train at Macy's. The colorful locals at Starbucks.

Midnight Snack buzz. Vice is nominated for Best Picture, really lends even more legitimacy to the Oscars! More like GAY-na Gould. HGH. Ate a dick in the Yoo Hoo room at Flapps. Dave Attell in Irvine. Opening for Nick DiPaolo at the Ventura Harbor Comedy Club. That Fyre Festival doc on Netflix.