Cocaine? What, what? Blowhole you say? Huh? Oh, BLOWhole. yuk yuk yuk

Anyway, coke fiends, next time you find yourself needing a bump but don't have any money, just dive into the Pacific and wrestle a giant beluga until a geyser of energy and septum damage comes gushing out the top of its head.

As I sat on Valencia's new tree swing holding my head in an effort to keep the bowl of mashed potatoes people call a brain from spilling out of my hungover head, this greaser Ryan Gosling pedals his junker up, kicks down his kickstand, and proceeds to bust out a giant, eight-by-eleven sticker and slap it right up onto wall in front of me.

The thing is, usually “street artists,” or whatever the fuck they want to be called these days, leverage the cover of night and secrecy to reduce the risk of getting busted by the cops.  But this brazen beatnik not only did it at 11 in the afternoon, but seemed unconcerned with some languid asshole with bags under his eyes documenting the entire thing with a shitty camera.

So, here's to you, giver of no fucks.  Let's free ICE FACE.

I can't help but see these meters and be reminded of Aaron Perry-Zucker and his self-started bright bench project in McLaren Park: sure, it might not be legal, but it looks a helluva lot better than the bland gray and silver finish they originally saw.  Plus, they match those vandalized light poles oh-so-nicely.

(Also, be sure to see what organic matter lives at the foot of these)

[Photo by Nuzz]

I can vouch for the fries, pizza, and whiskey, but you'll have to take the artist's word on the “neatly trimmed blonde pussy.”

[Photo by bhautik joshi]