So yesterday was yet another exciting chapter in the Golden State Chronicles. My dad and I discovered a restaurant called "Rutts". Imagine if Waffle House added a stir fry section to their menu, and also didn't have that one creepy guy sitting in the corner muttering to himself. That's kind of what Rutts was like, a true diamond in the rough. After this feast, we set about finding a rental car. Apparently everyone in California drives, but strangely enough, nobody ever moves anywhere. I think the majority of the people who live in this state get paid to just drive back and forth on the freeway all day. After an excruciating hour on the I-405, we finally made our way to the Dodgers stadium...only to find they were out of tickets. We decided it'd be just downright rude not to at least pay for parking, so we went in, and luckily found a shifty gentleman willing to give us to tickets to the spectacle known as "The Freeway Series", an event which I'm told only occurs once every millenia, when the moon glows blood red and the narwhal's tusk is at it's greatest height. It also occasionally happens whenever the Dodgers play the Angels.
The Dodgers were defeated 3 to 0, but nobody really cares. I've decided that people go to baseball games for the soul purpose of buying overpriced beer and
yelling at people they've never seen before. After the game, I practiced driving to and from work, a necessary procedure for someone like me. I'm not medically certified, but I'm pretty certain that I'm missing the part of my brain that helps me navigate. We'd been driving through LA for two days, and I still had no idea where to go, truly a shame.
Hopefully your appetite for words has been moistened, and hopefully I will soon have more tales to great your weary eyes with. I'm still getting the hang of recording myself like this, and I might start just putting sketches with captions here instead, it's really anyone's guess at this point.
over and out,