L.A is two letters away from L A M E

It has been a long time coming. In just a few short hours, the long awaited X Files movies hits select theaters at  midnight. If you've followed the series since it's inception or you're just looking for a summer blockbuster with a twist, this movie is sure to deliver.

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If you have yet to notice, something new is being thrown into peoples Shout Out boxes. This strange new found happening is known as Twitter. This application is a micro-blogging tool that lets you share witty observations in 140 characters or less to those with the same interests.

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I suppose that I should preface this by saying not everyone here at the Buzznet Offices is a dirty sod. Having said that, some of you are. I should have posted this in the Trashed Teens "Pet Peeves" mission, but I was probably washing  my hair or some junk.

Behold: From the Men's Bathroom, I bring you this:





It looks like someone never got to get rid of their inner teenager and decided to t.p. the restroom. I thought adults worked here at the Buzznets. Just sayin'.

Call me crazy, but I know how to pick things up off the floor. You know, because I knocked it down and I'm not a slob. I am not so busy that I can't take a minute to straighten up a common area after I've used it. I know it's a stretch, but you don't live at home anymore so Mom isn't going to clean up your mess. I sure wish she could come to work and slap you for being an inconsiderate tool box.

Usually, there are newspapers strewn about the floor in the men's restroom. There are also pieces of toilet paper and napkins near the sink, right next to the accompanying flow of water that no one seems to be able wipe up after they wash their hands.

The men's restroom is a treat. It's like playing roulette, except you are taking a chance on being grossed out instead of winning money. The common areas are not really looked after. Lots of people assume that just because we have a cleaning crew to empty the trash, there are people that will pick up after them.

It really urks me that people are so lazy that they can't clean up after themselves. You're not 5. I assume you have a brain. Clean your dishes. Wipe up things you spill. Throw things away in the waste bins. If you miss the waste bin, pick up your trash. Don't be a jerk.

Anyone else have messy co workers? Post up!

Inspired by yesterday's Photo of the Day,  Ohthepainthepain made me wonder what other "Dark Knight" inspired art and photography was out there. For the past month, I'm sure some of you have seen photos from the "Why So Serious?" group that Newageamazon started floating around Buzznet....

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Currently on the Warped Tour, Katy Perry is missing the comforts of her purring ball of fur, the aptly named Purry. In an effort to aid in this time of missing kitties, upload your very own LOLKATY!

LOLKATY instructions inside...

On the heels of a DVD release and with a line-up of shows in the works, Tickle Me Pink bassist Johnny Schou was found dead at the young age of 22. There's been no explanation announced as to the cause of death, but we've got all the information that's been released as of yet. Read on.

Today is fun. My ride to work via bicycle wasn't marred by the recent California heat. I wasn't covered in a thin veneer of sweat and discontent.

I am in the mood to say, "Here I am. There I go." I feel like being a fleeting memory. I feel like being something glimpsed for but a second. I feel like making people say, "Did I just see that?" What was that?"

Nothing says this more eloquently than having a large horn portruding from your frontal lobes. I have found the following pictures for you to enjoy.

Go be fancy.



I would feel better if this image was emblazoned on a shirt that was fitted to my small frame. I would wear it with pride, tinged with embarrassment.



The Narwhal. That's really all you have to say.

Seven days ago, at around this very hour, I was stuffed in a van. I was kidnapped by a group of people that were from the future. They said they came to the past because in their world, transportation via bicycle is no more. Scientists in the future created a highway network of rainbows on which the mighty pegasus takes to wing and transports human cargo to any destination in no time at all. These visitors come to the past for the mighty challenge that is the Aids Life Cycle; 545 miles of riding a bike from San Francisco to Los Angeles. I was tossed in the back seat with the luggage because I am small and compact. I would like to say we were crammed like sardines in a can but we weren't. Maybe everyone else was, but I felt rather comfy. The view from the back seat looked like this:



Since I was in the back, no one wanted to talk to me. Having a dull sense of humor and being vulgar is frowned upon in some circles. I became rather lonely. I did, however, happen to make a new friend. He told me his name was Donald Roofington of Vanshire. I was pleased to make his aquaintance. He let me take his photo:



The journey northward was uneventful. We stopped to eat, fill the vans up with gas, and eat again. There was a possible attack by a bird but I am not supposed to talk about that. In the future, birds are the Time Police. That is all I can say. I thought the following photo was interesting:



That's right folks. A cologne dispenser. Not only do you get to smell like you've been driving for x amount of hours, the Taco Bell/Pizza Hut food combo stop, and the gas station - you get to smell like Eternity for a quarter.

Upon arriving in San Frankie, I was dumbfounded. It has been at least 3 years since my last visit to said city but sweet baby Jebus, has it changed. THERE ARE BIKES EVERYWHERE!!!! There were bikes locked to every conceivable hitching posts and bikes locked to those bikes. I equate the look of all this bike madness to something found in nature:



I know this is a stretch but just think of all those crabs as bikes. Then think of a very urban background. That's what San Fran looks like.

San Francisco is fun. Fun as in OMG BIKES, GAY STUFF, and OMG MORE GAY STUFF.

Here is a picture of a map:



Notice how the train lines are rainbow-like in their color scheme. I can think of two things that are the same way:



** Please Note**
I like gays. I like Junior World Champions. These photos are side by side to illustrate the color schemes of San Fran's Tube system. Yay.

There were 7 days of riding time. I only took this one photo:



This happy pumpkin was in Paso Robles. Please notice the iron cat cut-out on the post. I took some pictures of those but on a different camera. I was too busy biking hundreds of miles, enjoying the most beautiful scenery EVAR, smelling strawberry fields, and feeling the wind on my face to take pictures. I will dig some up and write accordingly.
Thanks for reading!

Greetings Funsters!

As many of you know, I am an avid cyclist. My love for bikes and all the fun they provide is maximum. This love story began some years ago on a mountain bike that I used to haul my arse around on to get to school and work. One tragic day, the mountain bike was stolen. Many sad faces were had. This, however, lead to a later purchase of an actual road bike from the ever infamous Craigslist. I now own an IRO track bike for commuting and have managed to swindle a bike from KHS for actual training.

   Glow Ride


The purchase of the road bike was urged on by one Mark Oshiro, who had recently built his own bike at Los Angeles’s own Bicycle Kitchen. Mark had just started to go on rides with the good folks from the Midnight Ridazz website. At the beginning of our adventures, going for any length that was further than down the street was like asking us to go to the dark side of the Moon in a paper airplane. We have since grown muscles in new places and look really good in spandex.

Abusing Mark's bike.


This coming June, Mark and I will be riding from San Francisco to Los Angeles. That’s right. You read that correctly. The time to ride 545 miles in spandex is neigh! We shall not be doing this alone, mind you. Not that we wouldn’t, it’s just that we are joining about 3,000 riders (and support) who are riding this years AIDS LifeCycle. We are riding with Team Midnight Ridazz. This team is made up of 20 or so members. These are some of the most rad-tacular people I have ever met, each with their own inappropriate humor and bad-ittude.

  Shenanigans!


In order to do this ride, you need a few things:

1.    Sexy legs
2.    An awesome bike
3.    Some serious grit
4.    The ability to bike a week for others that can’t
5.    Donations

While having sexy legs to power your awesome bike, coupled with some serious grit to bike for a week for worthy cause may seem like enough, we still need your help. All of the proceeds raised from this event go to the San Francisco/Los Angeles Gay & Lesbian Centers. Even though I have started to fundraise, I am still a little shy of the $2,500 that I need to embark on this adventure. This is where you come in.

Even if it’s a $1, every little bit helps. You can make a difference in helping to provide services for those that cannot afford these services themselves. You can donate to me via the link provided below.

Your one dollar.
My one week.
Our common goal.
Help me help others.

I am rider 6141.

R

Location: La Brea/Sunset, Hollywood CA
Time: Lunch
Object: Shoes & Socks

I'm prone to looking at the floor. Not because I am low in spirits or lost in thought, but because that's usually where all the good stuff is laying around. I've been lucky enough to find dollars, cents, wallets, phones, and a few other odd objects while looking at the floor. Being a more tan version of Charlie Brown and hanging my head around town has it's advantages at times. This is my attempt to document some of the strange things I find on the city streets.

I've seen shoes strewn high above my head, tangled in wires. The placement there is rather obvious. A new pair of summer slip on's replaces the worn out sew ups of the preceeding school year. What better way to remember your "been there, done that" mentality.

I've often seen one shoe, on it's own, braving the streets while looking for it's lost brother or sister. I'm not sure how shoes end up in the middle of the street. Was someone dangling a foot out of the passenger side window, only to have a mighty gust of wind to snag the sandal off their feet? Strange circumstance are probably involved in the missing shoe scenario, the likes of which my best fictions can conjure up.

The above photo intrigues me. I am used to seeing this scene splayed out near pools of water or at the rewarding end of hiking trails. This pair of Chuck's was found outside of a 7-11 convenience store next to a public telephone. I would understand their placement if there had a been a motel pool that demanded attention by some rebel that paid no attention to the keep out and no diving signs of said establishment.

The pair of socks baffles me. This seems to scream, "panic!" The feet begged escape from the musky confines of their canvas and cotton-y blend prison. I'm sure madness ensued. That or careless littering. I prefer the former, as it is much more elaborate.

Hopefully I have more things to snap poor quality pictures of in the future. If you have any photos of things on the streets, feel free to send them to me and we can create fictions on their placement. Toodles!

El Rich

Today is Easter. For those of you that choose to believe in Zombie Jebus, congratulations. He is risen! For the rest of the future inhabitants of damnation that decide to live this out as anyother Sunday, hooray for us.



Currently, I am rather exhausted and thirsty. I was so thirsty that I actually left the house in search of some liquid refreshment. I suppose that doesn't make me as exhausted as I thought I was. Also, it was so beautiful outside that I needed to go and treat myself to the changes in the environment brought about by global warming. I found this little diddy of a drink at the corner store. They always have interesting drinks in this store. Not only do they carry this carrot and apple concoction from Poland, but they have a vast and wide array of tasty malt liquors.

Thoughts on being tired -

This weeks adventure began Friday night. A few people decided to gather at a place known as "The Bikerowave" for an adventure of sorts. This adventure consisted of driving in an RV to Santa Barbara (which is around 2 hours or so from Los Angeles), getting out of said RV, and then BIKING back to L.A. Yes. I wrote that. Read on.

There were about 7 riders that began this fantastic voyage. One of us stopped at the 100 mile mark, and the rest of us continued to Echo Park.

The hightlights and cause of my being tired are as follows:

We started in Santa Barbara at 12 a.m., on Saturday morning. There really wasn't much to look at until we arrived somewhere on Pacific Coast Highway. There were giant, boulder like cliffs and a vast, sparkling ocean that glittered in the bask of the moonlight. If you've ever seen the movie "Goonies," then just imagine the coastal shots if they were done at night. All of us riders had to pull over to watch this amazing scene.

Somewhere after the Leo Carillo Camping Grounds, we entered what would soon be an area of epic suck. Mile after mile we had to climb hills. I suppose the payoff was rewarding enough. Once we got to the top of some massive hill, we ended up in Malibu Creek State Park. I felt like I was looking at the 'Shire just after leaving Mordor. There were a few rolling hills, a gentle mist flowing above them, and the sun peeking over the top of these sloping greens. I wanted to stop and look but I was too busy going 40 mph downhill.

We finally got to Echo Park at 1 p.m. We ended up having a nice 140 miles under our belts. The total for me in that period of time was about 170. I had to ride places earlier so what the hell, I'm adding them. I wanted to take pictures of this ride. I even took a camera. I was too busy riding and having a blast (or killing my legs) to snap even one photo.

Here is a picture of a bike:


Bikes rule.

I'm a bad person. Let me explain.

This weekend, Acura hosted the L.A. Marathon/Bike Tour. The cost was $40 some odd dollars to enter. I don't know the specifics because I didn't pay. This basically means that I am a thief and that I stole money from cancer patients, children with hairlips in Guam, and old ladies  that can't afford this month's batch of Depends.

Someone had the bright idea to "crash" the Bike Tour, as that's what us feisty Midnight Ridazz tend to do. We like riding in the middle of the street in large numbers, making lots of noise, and not paying for things (beer don't buy itself!).

At first, when talk of this non-paying came up, I was against it. I didn't want to take away arts and crafts time from some kid that eats play-dough at the age of 13 and still wears Osh Kosh Bigosh over-alls. Since I am of a low moral fiber, I decided to go for it.  I mean, if you're going to go all out, you might as well go big.

I snapped the above picture just as the Sun was coming up. I was too tired to give a crap if it looked good. I was also on one of Los Angeles' well paved streets that is anything but. I must also mention that that I had been up since the previous day so this must have been at about hour 20 of no sleep time.

Here's to going to Hell in a hand basket.

I thought I was going to have some really rad shyt to post about my rockin' New Year's shenanegans but I don't. I thought I was going to put that ball droppin' celebration in Time Square to shame with my acts of bad ass-ery but the only thing that I did worth mentioning was use my Twitter and buy some beers from some dude named Cuco's ice chest. I also gave some man that looked like a burn victim all my change. I have a lot of change in my bag. He totally scored.

This is what I did:



I watched Mark get a flat tire. I think this was number four for the day. He obviously upset the Bike Gods. My guess is that he didn't offer to them enough blood and skin on the asphalt this year. That can't be true. He's been hit by plenty of cars and got door'd once.

This is after we had to depart our group ride from the Wolf Pack. We are sitting on the Subway (can you tell?) Thank goodness the ride was free. The picture is blurry and sideways. I am too inept at life to change it.

Prior to Mark pointing at his tire, there was a count down to the New Year over the loud speakers. The man that was doing the ol' 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 bit sounded like he quit life a long time ago. 'Twas a very dismal and sad voice that loomed over-head. The loud speakers even played the time honored "Auid Land Sein" or however the F that song is spelled.

Hopefully this isn't some precursor to the theme of the new year. I guess it will make for more interesting happenings. I think I would be bored if the unordinary didn't happen.

Here's to and interesting '08. According to the Aztec or Mayan calendar (at this point I don't think it matters), we only have about 4 years left. Let's make 'em count.

Sunday Morning, Dec. 30, 2007.
Time: 9 a.m-ish
Mileage: 40ish

Yes, there actually is a street called Chevy Chase. It's in Glendale. It also sucks. It turns into these crazy hills and I didn't know what the hell I was getting myself into untill it was too late. This ride went all over the damn place. From Glendale, Burbank, and back to I don't even where.

This ride would have been a pain in the ass if it weren't for the awesome company. Everyone is getting into the groove of training for the AIDS Life Cycle ride in June. That's going to be a 500 mile(I think), week long ride in June. Getting used to hills and getting some good mileage is crucial.
We don't want to be in San Francisco and decide this is too much to do.

I think the highlight for me was riding the side streets of Burbank while Ephemera (someone's screen name from the Midnight Ridazz boards) sang the U.S National Anthem. This was no regular anthem, mind you. It was him doing a Norweigan Death Metal version of said song. It was probably the best thing I've heard in a while.

We all got some good eats at India Sweets and Spices towards the end of our ride. A few bucks got you a plate of lentils, veggies, a samosa, some breads, and a curry of your choice. Some folks got the pumpkin-mango curry. That was some good eats! Nothing like a good meal after a good haul.

We were going to end our meal with some tasty vegan ice cream from Scoops but alas, it was closed down for maintenance. We were kind of bummed. An interesting thing happened on the way there, though. While we were maybe a mile away, some lady and her daughter decided to lay on the horn behind us. I guess the other lane wasn't enough for her or maybe she just forgot how to not be an asshole and just go around. The daughter decides to yell "Get the fuck out of the road!" From there, the chase was on. The car caught a red and was quickly swarmed. The daughter rolls up the window while Mark, yelling at his best, states we have full use of the lane according to California Vehicular Code 21000. I pull to the left of the car and stay in the way so that the car can't turn left. Plenty of others are blocking the car from moving forward. I moved so the car could roll out and then the daughter decides to open her mouth and scream, "Fuck you, faggots!" Hooray for 3rd grade insults while YOU'RE DRIVING AWAY.

Biking in L.A. is something else with hooligans like these.



That's me, eating the heck out of the spoke card for the ride. The only thing is, I have yet to develope the enzymes that will allow me to maximize the nutritional value of my new love for laminated food stuffs.



The leader of the pack, Danny (yellow jersey). This was his ride. Carla (green fixed gear) is a trooper and a half. Sunny (Raleigh) bringin' it, as always.



That's Mark (panasonicyouf's on the KHS), Lance (Cannondale), Gary (Bianchi- that bike must weigh 2 pounds-the fastest thing on 2 wheels), Steve-o, dude on a scott, and the other dude on a hybrid is ephemera on the MR boards.



I was busy being last.



Indian nom nom's at India Sweets 'n Spices. Whole lotta yum for not a lotta moneys.

There's a city in there, somewhere.

I woke up a little early today. I had an itch for coffee and fruit that only my local Starbucks could cure. Yeah, I know. I'm still beating myself up for that 6:30 a.m decision to get on my bike, participate in consumer whore-ism, and pedal my self 3 blocks to get my fix. I used to ride my bike to work in the pitch black and come home (sometimes) right before the sun came up. This is a sight I haven't seen in a while.