American Gothic

Playa Vista Style...


This was the prelude to a grey-haired, wife beater-clad, gentleman chasing us from the basketball court of the Playa Vista planned community.

"You woke up my kid and I'm going to take your head off", he yelled as he swung his condo-sized garden implement.

"Fuck, how old is your kid, you old fart; 30?" , I thought as I jogged backwards away from my geriatric attacker. "I'll be back for you", I prophesied, and I meant it.

He scared Steffi badly, and for that he must pay. After all, IT WAS JUST SOME FUCKIN' MORTARS AND A COUPLE MAXIMUM THRUST.


This was our pre-4th trunk-stash. I still possess around 40% of the load