Tuesday, July 26, 2005

contact high

Summertime at the Hollywood Bowl is one of the few redeeming things about L.A. The undulating hills. The Hollywood sign in the distance. And at any given night 'the bowl' attracts the largest congregation of white potsmoking hippies and interracial couples to ever grace a 20,000 seat open-air stadium. This particular Sunday, Mos Def was performing some sort of experimental 'big band rap project' which is really just euphemism for "I'm just too famous and lazy to rap anymore." Now don't get me wrong I'm a big Mos Def fan. I've even been following his blossoming film career. His breakthrough performance in Brown Sugar (2002) should've taken him to the Oscars. But has it really come to this? Mos say it ain't so. After his set ended, Nigerian born Femi Kuti came on stage and started jumping around like a condom of cocaine exploded in his anal cavity. Ouch. Then as the sun finished casting its final rays before extinguishing itself behind the mountain, it seemed as though by some silent prearranged signal everyone began passing around fat spliffs, their burning ends flashing in the deepening night like fireflies. But the real highlight of the evening was when I lit a cigarette in languid defiance of the no-smoking signs and my friend turns to me and says in a rather school-marmy voice, 'That's illegal you know." Yeah, I thought. . . okay. Like, maybe they'd bust my derelict Korean ass if they could only see through the mushroom cloud of potsmoke hanging over our heads. And never mind the jittery freakshow still doing the jackhammer on stage. You gotta love straightlaced people. They bring such delight to my otherwise mundanely deviant world.

Just another badass derelict waiting to get expelled.

This picture isn't blurry. I am.

1 comment:

bloviate said...

Straight-laced and shoelaced - take me to the truth-court with yo bitchass. As deemed straight-laced marmy-voiced law-abider, I would like all readers of this blog to know that perhaps it was the unsaid amount of beer, red wine, rose wine, and any other alcoholic liquids and/or brown hallucinagens swarming in and around us that made you, MissyTwo, a believer out of my quite funny joke. Suckaaa!

ps. Mos Def either no longer believes he should work for concert-goers' money or that he thinks smoking and sitting on stage, trying to put a harmony together amounts to a live performance. Another sucka.