Venice Beach: A Solo Run

Yes it's been a minute since I've composed for whom ever may be reading this, let my words resonate with you if you will. The Dscrilla has been going through the ups and downs of life, it's been difficult for me, yet I'm resolute. Writing is healing for some, As I pour my thoughts through this medium, I seek what I do not understand.

This past weekend, well Sunday to be exact, I found happiness at Venice Beach, Happiness came in the form of an Ounce of Purple Kush, A bottle of Patron Silver, and a pair of Krispy Green & White pair of lace up Vans. I listened to my new Amy Winehouse CD in the back seat of my Yukon sippin and toking, until I saw the popo sharking the parking lot and snatch a car full of niggas outta they car that was doing the same thing I was doing, I was fairly faded so it was time to get out and check the scene anyways. The sun lit up the sky and the indistinguishable fragence of nag champa wafted though the salt tinged beach air. Through kush reddened eyes that were covered by my Dolce & Gabbana Stunner shades, I admired the seemingly endless cavalcade of almost naked women that passed before me, you gotta love the beach. Sunday at Venice is a must for Los Angeles residents and travelers from distant places the want to be immersed in California-ness, ya dig? I stopped and purchased a double scoop of Vanilla ice cream, I wandered in and out of the various shops that line the Venice walk way, I picked up a glass bong, it was the same one I was going to purchase last year, I was still waiting on me. I also had the inclination to dabble in witchcraft, I had my palm read for $20.00, the palm reader told me I had a baby on the way and I had a penchant for entertainment and hip-hop, wow!

My elocution netted me 4 numbers and two photo opps as I took flicks with 3 white gurls visiting from Israel, I guess they were excatly white, they sure looked like it though. I love Venice Beach, I love watching beautiful women. After 2 hours of Gurl Watching I left warm embrace of Venice for the Urban essence of Los Angeles, I stopped off at the Starbucks in the Ladera Center for a few shots of espresso, I needed my edge back, I posted up briefly at a table and watched the car show & stream of worn out bitches that wiggled into Majic Johnson Fridays. Eventually I found myself in Friday's, I wanted to take a sneek peak, usually I don't fuck with Friday's, to many worn out looking bitches be up in there, it's like an unwholesome atmosphere. No one ever looks healthy up in there and this occasion was no different. I saw the same Porno Star dudes that roll up in there with sling shot T-Shirts and jewlery, I saw a few playas popping bottles with a few high mileage having bitches, I saw the same OLD playas rocking ice and flirting as hard as possible the same tore up over 30 outta shape alcoholic females. Now when I say old players, I mean OLD like over 60, with neck sagging and swollen hands, Niggas who really need to call it a day, I swear it's depressing.

I made it back home around 9pm, I broke out the new bong, filled it with ice and water, then sat on my couch to try it out. I watched the smoke snake through the glass tubing, when it hit my mouth it was cold, when I finished my pull and tried to breath, there was no air available, I coughed for almost 5 minutes, when I finished I was super high. I sank back on my couch, flipped through a few channels, stopped on discovery channel, tripped off of the worlds most dangerous jobs, the next thing I found was oblivion, the next morning I woke up the couch in the same postion at around 7am, what a day.