ENTRY #40
THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 13, 2003

Do you remember when NO ONE did backside noseblunt slides? I do. It took me six years to learn that bitch. It's all in the shoulders. Matt Hensley, Tim Gavin and Mike Carroll were the only ones back then. Tim kickflipped into one in 92, and Carroll nollie 270'd into a switch one in 93.

Don't let those egos swell too much, children. For the most part, it's all been done, and ten years ago, too. Guy did some stuff that no one has yet to do, and he did it ten years ago. So when you send in that seven-stair kickflip front board, don't wait by the phone.

All I'm saying is innovate, don't imitate.

I just smacked a fruitfly that was flying around. It landed in my cup. Now I have to pour out my Cabernet.

I just learned that crows, the ones that chill in your back and front yards and walk around looking for things to eat carry the West Nile Virus. I'm going to Sportmart and getting a pellet gun with a laser sight. It's open season on those fuckers. And you know I'll have them all stuffed and chilling at the Lounge. They are evil birds. Blacker than the blackest moonless night, and they rummage through the food your neighbors feel alright to throw into your yard. No joke, I once found, among other things, a bucket of KFC chicken next to one of my trees. In the bucket were scrappy chicken bones and lots of grease spots. Paper plates, soda cans, you name it.

I can't wait until I get my gun. I'm going to get the best one money can buy, and I'm going to personally eradicate any chance that the West Nile Virus comes anywhere near my palace. I'll shoot the fuckers off the powerlines, too. Remember, kids, LASER SIGHT.

And only because of that damn West Nile Virus. I'd normally just build a scarecrow.

I just bought two issues of two new skate mags. They were meant for reading material in the john, but after glancing through them, I should've flushed them, too.
It's getting pretty tacky out there, folks. It's like they print the same issue over and over, and simply change the cover shot.
It's enough to make a man crack open a beer and fall out of touch with everything.

I've got some drywall to tape. Something interesting, for a change.

(a short postscript to homeowners:)
knock a wall out sometime, or just part of one and slap a window in there, between the rooms.
I'm telling you, open it up a bit, get some light in there, make some space. It's almost as beautiful as a plastic bag rolling down the street in the middle of an empty afternoon. In fact, try gutting the whole house and making it like a big loft or warehouse. Skylights, windows. Let the sun in. Such beauty. And shitcan the carpets. Those things collect dust mites, and fleas lay their eggs in the fibers, even if you don't have pets. Dirty carpets!

ENTRY #39
WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 12, 2003

The difference between the fans and the haters was a close twenty people. The poll was neck-and-neck the whole way. Everytime a fan would vote to keep the Lounge alive, a hater would chime in with Shitcan it. But, the poll says it all: Shitcan That Column.

Sorry, folks, it's not up to me. The secret shadow government at Crailtap has made it clear that The Shampoo Lounge stays. The cops will find me in a garbage can somewhere out in the Nevada desert, or in a cornfield or something if I don't keep writing the column.

Tito literally gets phone calls from people he doesn't know, giving him instructions and orders. Something like that guy on the X-Files who smoked the cigarettes all the time.

Crailtap Shadow Government. It's enough to make a man crack open a beer and forget everything he 'never' knew.

Speaking of crack, ooh, did you see that photo on the Lakai site? MJ's bloody crack? Ooh. I need to crack open a beer and forget that.

Well, I just did.

Nothing much to report today. Sanger has the art and news links in line, Ringer has the scoop on what's going on out in the world, and Clive has the team and skate info dialed.
Tito just says stuff about construction and de-construction, landscapes and bubbles, and other hogwash not many people supposedly want to read. I need to get a drawing or a trick tip up in here pretty soon.

Word on the street is that mini-ramp skating is about to come back in a big way. Johnny Backlip and Kickflip Fred just might be out with yesterday's...

There's a plastic bag rolling down the street right now!
It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen!

There's a Journey song on the radio right now: "she said anyway you want it, that's the way you need it, anyway you want it.."

Yeah...

I'm rocking out at the Lounge right now. There might be a skate session in the works, and I've got to get myself psyched. No ping-pong at Girl HQ today. I've got to call and cancel.

I think Baby Tito poured shampoo into the central heating unit. There's bubbles coming out of the vents in all the rooms. He's always getting into something crazy.

I gotta go and check this out. Back later, much to the dismay of the hater.
That rhymes!
Look for the Burberry skateboard photo in the Randoms. It's shocking.

ENTRY #38
TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 11, 2003

Shitcan the column.

I knew it.

Too bad. They refuse to can it. For all the haters, keep hating. We could care less, because we definitely aren't where you are, doing what you're doing. No wonder you're pissed.

For all the fans, we're trying.

The weekend was pretty mellow. Did some skating with friends and drank some beer, and the fireplace was burning firewood all weekend long. What ambience.
Read a good book by Henry Miller this weekend called 'A Devil In Paradise'. Also reading 'Big Sur And The Oranges Of Heironymous Bosch' by Miller as well. The former is actually an excerpt from the latter, but the latter got lost in the jumble, so I found the former at a bookstore and read it. Now when I find the latter and get to that part of it, the Devil In Paradise part, I will have already read it.
Definitely not for most people under 25 or anyone who doesn't read that good, or anyone who doesn't understand a damn thing about anything. If that's you, stick to Maxim or some other fun stuff.
Did I tell you about the Prefabricated Houses book I got? It's all about houses that are like little kits that you can truck out into the middle of nowhere and assemble. It's about other stuff too, but some of the houses are 'f'-ing awesome. Cheap, too.

You love 'f'-ing', don't you?

You probably want to read about Johnny Backlip and Kickflip Fred and trick tips and how to get sponsored because there's no real reason to skate other than that. Or you might enjoy this.

You know how I do Tito's Skate Art here and there? Maybe I should step it up and add a trick tip of the week, complete with photo sequences. Cool tricks, too. Not just Backlips down the rail. There's other terrain, people. Plus, sacking your nads isn't fun.

And speaking of sacking, Tito got word straight from Bird (that rhymes!) that Marc Johnson sacked one good this weekend on the Arizona Lakai Trip. It seems that MJ was shooting a sequence at night on a ledge out over some stairs and the foot slipped off and Whoa Nelly! MJ tossed the bloody boxers and passed out at the hotel with a towel wrapped around him, not knowing how bad the sacking was. In the morning, he was still bleeding and hoofed it to the hospital for some stitches in No Man's Land. Bird said that MJ left the hospital 'a very confused person'. Looks like Marc will have trouble sitting down for a few days.

Lucky is the person who has to cut those stitches out. Yeeeeesh. Poor guy. He tries, and you gotta give him that.

Spike came to Arizona for the mini-trip, so that goodness balanced out the sacking badness. Bird says it was altogether pretty mellow. Lakai is thinking about starting to work on a video, but you'd have to ask Lieutenant Ty about that one. I'd wait until Hot Chocolate is released to do it, though.

Shouts go out to everyone, even the haters. Tito loves ya. Ping-Pong at Girl on Wednesday. Be there and get ready to whoop or be whooped. Morris Klampert is on the line.

Oh, I did get that 2x4 from Home Depot, but I'm using it for the guest-house in the newly landscaped backyard. And, I bought a giant boulder from somewhere that is shaped like a chair. You can throw a pillow on that thing and chill. Maybe in fifteen years you'll care. But for now, just get out there and skate.

ENTRY #37
WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 5, 2003

When you uproot a shitload of plants from the front and back yards, the ants who live peacefully underground get pissed. They start to cruise up in your house through all the little nooks and crannies and surround you while you are sleeping in front of the fireplace on a sleeping bag. It's some sort of weird insect protest.

I got out a can of Raid and protested right back. If the fuckers want to chill at the Lounge, they need to pay some rent. This shit ain't free.

And speaking of protesters, a mob of aging hipsters protested in Little Rock, Arkansas today. The old fogeys were dressed in their 1950's-era best, combing pomade through their hair (or what was left of it) and crowding the street corners. Some of the men were leaning against light poles recanting old doo-wop favorites.
The seniors were carrying signs and generally causing a ruckus throughout the downtown streets.
During an interview, one man, Levar Thompkins, 67, from Little Rock was overheard to frankly state:
"Screw all this 'rap' mess. We all still want to know Who put the 'bop' in the bop shoo-bop shoo-bop, dammit!"

No one was seriously injured during the protest, although one man's Pacemaker was affected by a car alarm that sounded sometime during the rally.

Myself, I'd like to know who put the 'ram' in the 'ramalama ding-dong'.

Looks like the fires in Southern California are already old news. New shit that the flies are swarming around include 'How The Stars Stay Thin', and all that stuff in the Middle East again.
Less and less women these days are having children. Coincidentally, more and more women are becoming smarter people.

Tito's drinking coffee. There's a fire in the fireplace. The new plants have arrived, and the backyard is already looking wonderful. If it weren't for the fact that I have a Lil' Tito and a Babymama, I'd be so gay right now, probably drinking a daquiri and gabbing on the phone about who said what and oh no she didn't!!!

But I'm straighter than an O.C. street, and I'm about to go get a sixer of cheap beer and eat a chicken pot pie. Maybe I'll take my shirt off and go do some more yardwork and then belch.

So over myself. I know you are too.

I'm going to ask Clive to put one of those Tapper polls up tomorrow:

Keep The Lounge Alive
~or~
Shitcan That Column

You decide. I don't have the time to. I gotta make the store here in a minute, and I think I'll just go and buy the beer shirtless.

Love, Tito

ENTRY #36
TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 4, 2003

10:36 am

Landscapers still haven't showed. Backyard looks like the trenches of Fu Man Chu. Mixing coffee and cabernet right now. Avoiding the calls. Yesterday they brought the shit truck and blocked me in. The stench was unbelievable. The floors upstairs were finished, I was doing a bit of light sanding and filling cracks with plastic wood. Probably doing the coffee thing too. Probably a zucchini walnut muffin.
They spilled manure in my driveway. I drove over it on the way to breakfast. Now there are Doritos bags and styrofoam cups littering the driveway.
Bastard no-show slobs.
What is this, a holiday? What day is it anyway? I know it's not October anymore. It's November, sometime after Fat Sam's Wings 'n' Things. That was a Sunday. Who knows who won? Who cares?
What will the money go to purchasing?

Rims?
Hemorrhoid Cream?
The Devil's Lettuce?

I slept by the fire last night. Woke up at 4 am, drew some pictures, jotted down some ideas. Drank a glass of water, then a sip of wine. There was a spider on the notebook and I threw him into the fire. It was all too hazy to recount.
Baby Tito put Willy Wonka on at 8 am. We sang songs. He went to school at 8:30.

Smyth took me for a ride on the Table Tennis Train yesterday. I sat in the Losers section. 21-17. Morris Klampert will be mine someday. I gotta take Mueller and Rick, too. Once I get used to the new whip, asses will turn red. Spankety-spank-spank.

Now I ask, "What am I going to do today?"

p.s. Romper Room Rick, that thing we discussed is coming together.

And Mike Carroll said the words 'your outfit'. I heard him say it. He was talking about army green.

It's always so quiet at Girl.

I've got to go. I have to think of something to do today. Maybe a little Home Depot.

ENTRY #35
MONDAY, NOVEMBER 3, 2003

There is doing it, and then there is selling it.

They are the same thing, divided by different motives. You can do something, and then you can do something and sell it, or you can just be a part of selling it without doing it at all.

When you see the set, your perspective on the movie changes. Anyone who knows can tell you that this is true.

Things are just different now. Blame it on time and knowledge. I'm not sure where to point the finger, or if anyone should extend any part of themselves at all after a certain point of time.

I guess the best thing to do is to find the most comfortable corner in which to sit and watch it all, or maybe the best thing to do is to just turn away. There are other things a person could look at in their lives. Finding those things, if any, might be the hardest thing to do.

People endure certain processes that they have to endure to enable them to do what it is that they really want to be doing. The old 'I'll scratch your back, and you scratch mine'.
That metaphor could apply to most anything.

It's just that now too many idle voices have their say. It's just more noise to clog the ears, more words to strain the eyes. Nothing of much use is being said or heard or written or read anymore. Most of everything now exists to occupy the attention and pass the time.
And pass it does.
I'd like to wake up one morning at forty-five and know where at all went. I'd like to be able to point at things of great use and know that that's what I've extended myself for.

I choose to turn away.

That is very useful.

ENTRY #34
FRIDAY, OCTOBER 31, 2003

Tito's Skate Art #6!

Happy halloween from all your pallbearing pals here at The Haunted Shampoo Lounge.

I've got some ghosts doing landscaping as we speak, getting everything ready for Tito's dream house. I showed the sketch to the architect (you can click on the sketch above) and he laughed in my face. I took him out to the garage and got my board and did a tre' flip for him. Then he said, "Let's get to work, Tito. This waterslide snakerun to fullpipe MUST happen!"

I just tore out this bougainvilla tree that hung way over into the neighbor's yard. So much so, that it was actually part of their landscaping. I ripped that fucker to shreds with power tools. But I offered to provide them with the plants of their choice to fill the void of the now-gone bougainvilla devil weed. The shed is getting sawn the fuck down too, as soon as I finish my food. It's deconstruction junction over here at the new-and-improved Lounge. I'm smoking cigs and drinking Corona right now, trying to gear up for tonight. I've shit-canned the costume for the Headless Shit Cupcake from Shampoo Hollow, and now I'm going as 'Naked Man'.

The wine will turn my teeth bluish gray, the cigs will add a touch of ghoulish brown, and I'll be naked as the day I was born, drunk as a skunk, roaming the suburbs and asking for candy. I'm too old to trick or treat, so I've decided to wander the streets and just ask little kids to share some of the candy they got, house to house, with 'Naked Man'.

I should be in the drunk-tank by 7 pm.

But I'll be out in time for the 'Best Chicken Wings in Skateboarding' contest on Sunday in Long Beach. Tito will have the Global ThermoNuclear wings and I'll win by a landslide.

Think you can front? Those wings are special order, and you'll be puking your guts out in the parking lot, begging for milk.

Have a safe night, check your apples for razor blades or syringe marks, and brush them teeth like there's no tomorrow Saturday morning. Then go shred. After an all-night sugar binge, you should be able to ollie over houses in a single bound.

Excuse me, I gotta go smash some shit with power tools. Happy Haunting!

ENTRY #33
WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 29, 2003

Tito got another massage yesterday. Amber is working those legs. Ty made me try and frontside a doubleset one day and my knee hurt after I landed. So much jumble above the kneecaps that's gotta be grinded out with sweet elbows. Amber was still talking about her daughters. She is always talking about her daughters. I wonder what Freud would say about that. But I could care less, just keep them sweet hands on the knees.

No skateboarding of course. Not until the jumble is worked out. Next massage: next week. I thought about furniture design during the entire massage. Anything else would've resulted in a boner.

Layed some more flooring upstairs, and mowed the front yard today. Kept it mellow on the booze. Water program should commence soon. I had those toxin farts that you get after a massage. I had them all day. Your body stores up toxins, and massage is one way to release them. They go directly to the bowels. Toxin farts and toxin diarrhea. Out with the bad, in with the good.

Baby Tito came over tonight to carve his halloween pumpkin. He's got these little blisters on his hands and feet. Quick web check: Baby Tito got the Hand Foot and Mouth disease. Holy Lysol all over the house! Poor guy, he felt so shitty. He carved his pumpkin between sessions of Willy Wonka and The Chocolate Factory. He was acting really strange. Talking to himself and stuff, stabbing his pumpkin.
I just have to shake my head sometimes.
I sent him back home with a hug, then I washed my hands and Lysol'd the whole house. HFM disease only lasts for three days, so we might be looking at a nice halloween. He might not understand my costume. He hasn't seen Legend Of Sleepy Hollow yet. He'll probably just want to ride the pony and set stuff on fire all night. I'm too old to Trick or Treat, but I ain't too old to dip into Baby Tito's bag.

Yall ready fer the Best Trick Ever Done On A Skateboard contest this weekend? I'll be there with a bucket of wings from Fat Sam's and a notebook and pen. I'll be the guy with jeans and a t-shirt with a backwards mesh hat on. Come and say what's up.

Rick Raymond: love ya, big man.

ENTRY #32
TUESDAY, OCTOBER 28, 2003

I was thinking about this for a halloween costume... Tito's Skate Art #5!

ENTRY #31
MONDAY, OCTOBER 27, 2003

Tito done went and knocked out the stairs. Got himself a hammer and crow-bar and pried them things off and had himself a lookie-loo underneath. Plenty of nothing under the stairs.

Got that Birch plywood for the flooring upstairs, and the wood for new stairs yesterday. Went to the bookstore and got some books. One book was called the Zombie Survival Guide. It tells all about these weird experiments different countries have done over the years to try and breed zombies for use in wars. You can shoot 'em, you can stab 'em, but they just can't die twice.
I was reading about this experiment that the Japanese did with some Chinese prisoners called Project Black Dragon or something. They successfully bred some zombies from dead Chinese prisoners, right, but ten of the twelve army instructors that had to train the zombies got bit by the zombie troops and turned into zombies themselves. Then, they tried to kick like ten of them out of a plane, parachute-style, into a nest of Chinese soldiers, but snipers shot the zombies' heads off. The book says that Chinese soldiers are instructed to always aim for the head. Historical accounts of zombie living. It's an interesting read. It might be bullshit.

The weekend as a whole was mellow. Ash fell from the sky like Nuclear winter. Los Angeles is burning. The sun was a nice hot pink at mid-day Sunday. I mowed the lawn, and avoided the fax machine. Baby Tito thought it was snowing. The neighborhood looks like an ashtray. Was anybody out there skating amidst the ashen haze? I hope not. Mowing the lawn made my lungs hurt. Huffing and puffing out there in a schoolyard would probably make a fifteen year-old keel over.

Spike's got a thing tonight for the release of his DVD, the Best Trick contest is on Sunday near Fat Sam's Wings 'n' Things in Long Beach, and there's a Lakai Arizona mini-tour coming the weekend after that. It's just one skateboarding extravaganza after another these days.

I'm drinking Pepsi right now, and thinking about how pointless it is to claim "I'm on vacation".

ENTRY #30
FRIDAY, OCTOBER 24, 2003

Tito's in a mellow mood today. Just doing a bit of cleaning in the garage, getting stuff ready for next weeks garbage truck street run. I haven't had my bacon and eggs yet. Need to get on that. There's something I don't like about organic coffee. Too thick or something.

The jazz station is having their membership drive. It's like the Jerry Lewis telethon but on the radio. They play one song, then go into a half hour of trying to coax people into sending money to the station. These two guys in the morning are horrible. They'll even word their pitch at an angle to where they try and make you feel guilty about listening to the radio and not sending that cash in. Yesterday they were asking people to pledge 600 dollars apiece, talking about "you and you and you, hey, even the guy working at McDonald's right now listening to jazz on the radio, send in your pledge. 18007673688. They keep chanting that mantra. I thought that no one working at McDonald's would A. be listening to jazz on the radio, B. have the time to call the station, and C. be able to give a radio station 600 bucks. I understand that it is public radio, commercial-free, but jeez, don't make a person feel shitty for turning the radio on.

I'll turn it off until you shut up. 600 dollars???

I'm not fond of latin jazz. Must be the horn section. Too many horns or something.

In skate news, there's YET ANOTHER best trick contest. November 2nd in Long Beach down by Fat Sam's Wings 'n' Things. I think they might even be catering the contest.
It seems like there's a game os SKATE or a best trick contest every damn weekend now. What in the hell has happened to everything? Rolexes? Why don't they give away something useful, like free lawn and garden service for a year. You kickflip backlip the rail and Wha-La!!! Someone mows your lawn, trims your trees every week. You know. Or maybe something like a tattoo gift certificate. That's useful.
If I ever won some best trick contest, I'd be at the pawn shop 20 minutes later...

That isn't going to happen.

I think I'll start painting soon. Become an artist or something. I've been looking at property in the mountains. Houses are damn cheap. Trees, snow, no cell phone reception.
Could it be paradise? I don't know.

See you at Fat Sam's.

ENTRY #29
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 23, 2003 @ 11:23 AM

It's another early morning for Tito. 7am wake-up.

Still uprooting tiles in the kitchen. Somehow that's fun for me.

I had a massage this morning. The masseuse is gorgeous. All she talks about are her two daughters. They play that really relaxing music and dim the lights in the room and Tito is up on the table with a beautiful woman working on his legs. I stare at the ceiling mostly.

I can see the garbage all neatly arranged on the curb right now through my window. What a sweet picture. I wonder if the neighbors think I'm weird. Every week I haul out tons of stuff to the curb. Bags, boxes, you name it. Nothing comes in the front door, but tons of stuff goes out every week. Kind of like Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory.

What IS Tito doing in there?

The only neighbor who talks to me is Jeff across the street. I was mowing the lawn and he came over to tell me that he was off to a Metallica concert. Jeff is 38. I told him to have a blast. And then there's Doris from a few houses down, who doesn't come by as much anymore, now that the peach trees are gone, and she can't steal peaches. Doris is fascinated by cats, and has orange hair done up into an old-lady afro. She's the only person who's lived in her house. 42 years in the same house. My street is that old.

Tito is sipping on Kahlua and milk with crushed ice right now. I don't drink before noon, but it feels like it's after noon, so I'm just going with the feeling.

Guess what? Nobody called yesterday! It was awesome. I might call the phone company and have my service turned off now that I don't have a phone. No sense in paying for a service you don't use. Friends of Tito need to start buying stamps.

Oh, and don't bother getting me anything for the party. I'll probably smash that stuff up too one night.

One more thing. I used to collect toys back in the day, and I've saved all of them, and put them in boxes. It's pointless, really. But imagine dragging all those boxes out and opening them in front of a three year-old child. The look on his face was the reason I saved all those toys years ago.
That three year-old was thanking me for saving up all those toys 'for him'. I let him go nuts. Paper and plastic everywhere. It was pretty damn fun.

ENTRY #28
WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 22, 2003

Holy I don't know what.

Last night was crazy. This is a serious, totally serious episode of The Shampoo Lounge.
You know, Tito has drama with a certain person in his life. I've read all sorts of Zen-type books about letting it go, keeping quiet when fools are squawking, absence, peace, quiet, etc. The Good Life, some people will call it. Just live your life the way you want to, and stay out of other people's way. You know.

Well anyway, all Tito is trying to achieve these days is a little peace and quiet. I chill at the lounge, do a little work here and there on my own time, skate when I feel like it, take care of the bamboo in the kitchen, draw, read. But some people just aren't satisfied with letting a person just live. Some people like to argue and talk talk talk. Argue and talk, argue and talk. Beat the damn dead horse.

Tito reached his wits' end last night. I'm telling you it was solitary madness. After the drama was over, and the Lounge was locked up for the night, Tito exploded. Every breakable dish and glass was smashed, beer and wine bottles smashed, the phone was smashed, the caller ID smashed, cell phone torn in half and given the grinding heel, even the coffee maker, the rice cooker, everything, smashed to bits. There's nothing left. Silverware thrown out, kitchen torn apart, floor tiles uprooted. Everything goes out with the trash this week.

And dammit it felt good.

The only bummer was cleaning up all the ceramic and glass shards this morning, but I'm on a roll today. The kitchen is being dismantled with a hammer. A big-ass hammer.

I guess the point of this episode is sometimes you just have to smash some shit. Self discipline works wonders in dealing with other people, but if you're mixing up a Bachelor's Delight, the Lounge is empty and the drama has all gone home, fuck it. Smash some shit. Seriously fuck some shit up. It feels great.
Just have a broom and dustpan handy. And lots of garbage bags.

So Tito doesn't have any phones now. No spoons, no forks, no rice cooker. Nothing but a feeling of lightness.
Some people like to fight with other people. Or just fight people. That's a lack of self-control. But when no one is around, you too can get all that bad feeling out by fucking smashing the shit out of some shit. If you don't want it, fuck it up. I you don't need it, fuck it up. Let the garbage truck haul it all away. Clean house and clean your soul.

Just don't let anyone see you do it. It isn't pretty.

But like I mentioned, damn it feels good.

I think I'll take a mid-day nap or something. Or do anything else I feel like doing.

ENTRY #27
TUESDAY, OCTOBER 21, 2003

Tito's Skate Art #4!

Apologies to Ring Ring Ring. You can't click on a sarcasm button when you type, you know, like italics or something.

Shit Cupcakes shirts coming soon. You can't buy them at the Crailshop or even send in little knick-knacks for them. Only Rick Raymond and Tito get them.

I can see that you're already green with envy.

Tito is back online. A few phone calls were made to the appropriate companies, and some settings were reset. That makes them resettings. And I wonder what kind of lives those people lead, the ones who do the technical support for computers over the telephone. They must party like it's 1999 every chance they get.

And speaking of partying and Rick Raymond, he's been busy not partying or handing out technical computer support over the phone. Rick's just trying to be Rick Raymond right now. Those in the know are in the know. What I do want are some photos of The Bear on his column. You'd love The Bear of you knew him. Imagine a full-sized bear, totally drunk, crammed into a phone booth, laughing his head off and quoting The Bernie Mac Show over the phone to someone at 3 in the morning. We gotta get some photos of this guy.

The weekend was boring, except for The PedroSideways Show Saturday night and my afternoon with Rick Howard and Lieutentant Ty. Some serious raw streetskating went down. Real streetskating, where you skate from spot to spot, film some tricks, and go to more spots without the use of a car (or seven). They were filming a whiskey commercial at this one spot. We skated by the catering table and got free shots of whiskey. It was rot-gut stuff. The actor who was starring in the commercial was shit-faced from so many takes. He recognized Rick from Yeah Right and started saying to everyone on the set, "Yeeaeaeaaaahhhhh, this my maaaaaaann!!! Kickflip!! Do a kickflip, Rich!!! Rich Howard, everyone!!! He's in that green skateboard video!!! Wooooohoooooo!!!"

Rick was stoked on 'Rich Howard'.

Tito was observing the array of box-homes in the homeless district. Even then, the gears were turning. There were ways that those guys could make really innovative homes out of cardboard. But when you don't know where you're next meal is coming from, and you live in a box, I think cardboard architecture takes a back seat somewhere. A back seat way in the back. It would be cool to organize a building session for a weekend, and get a bunch of boxes and sheets of cardboard and other supplies and order a bunch of pizzas and beer and redesign and rebuild the neighborhood of box houses. I mean there were two whole blocks of boxes and tents next to each other. Shopping carts, you name it. I know people have their own problems, but it doesn't look like Los Angeles is doing much to help.

If someone HAS to live in a box, help them make that box dope! That may sound stupid.

The gears are always turning. The mind of Tito can wander to far-off places and back again without warning. Too many books, I guess. The Lounge is stocked with books, and people ooh and ahh when they see them all. Then they never want to read again after a few days with the Tito.

"The man can't handle his information."

ENTRY #26
FRIDAY, OCTOBER 17, 2003

Not much going on at The Lounge right now, folks. Just had houseguests for a few days from way up north where you have to take a ferry to get home. It's close to Canada, but it's not Canada. The houseguests are gone, and I'm mixing up another Bachelor's delight right damn now.

Oh, and a shout out to the chump who writes the other crappy column: My mail server has been down for a few days, so I haven't been able to send in this friggin' column. Gosh, I'm really sorry.

You just keep tasting your foot, don't you. Is it out of boredom? Let us know in your column how your toes taste. It'll be a nice addition to the same old disrespect and hair updates you dish out on the regular. So what if I'm a shit cupcake? Fuck yes. Eat some shit. In fact, maybe I'll just abandon this column again just to see what other names I can be referred to. Get out the dictionary. You'll need it.

Quick review:

E-mail server: fucking DOWN. Not MY Fault.
Shit Cupcake: I'll have seconds.
Your toes: Probably stink. Try wearing clean socks.

Anyway, on to topics about happier people:

Tito is happy. The Ring Ring Ring Chump has toes for lunch today. Can't be too happy.

That's it. Tito was on fire until the server went down, but some people don't have the foresight to assume that maybe there's a valid reason why the updates have been lagging, so they just yap without having the facts, and maybe those people are too lazy or busy to bother calling as to inquire about the state of things like mail programs before they just call you shit again.

Give a bachelor the benefit of the doubt.

Talk about 'the high road'.

Tito is happily out. Suck it. Everyone.

ENTRY #25
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 9, 2003

Tito's Skate Art #3!

ENTRY #24
TUESDAY, OCTOBER 7, 2003

Tito's Skate Art #2!

ENTRY #23
MONDAY, OCTOBER 6, 2003

It must be ant-invasion Monday. The bastards are coming through a crack in the paint under the kitchen windowsill. They're going for the honey bears next to the stove. There are hundreds of them. It prompted a hasty decision to throw all the dishes into the dishwasher. And you know that washing dishes rarely needs to be a 'hasty decision'. I know where they're coming from, too. They're coming from the dirt around one of the trees, marching across the patio and into the wall outside of the kitchen. Bastards. Take the honey, just get out.

Washing A LOT of wine glasses, you know.

Nothing to report on the skate frontlines. I'm sure the soldiers are winning the war, kickflipping deep in the trenches, muddying up their hip-hop and punk rock uniforms. Tito is in the stockade, peeling potatoes, after going AWOL and being captured Sunday by Colonel Rick and Lieutenant Ty. Just as I was mixing up another Bachelor's Delight, I feel a hand on my shoulder, coming straight out of the phone. It was Ty Evans. Ty and Colonel Rick dragged me away to a remote schoolyard at an undisclosed location. And I doubt few of you will ever know how difficult it really is to climb a tall chain-link fence with a skateboard in one hand, and a glass of champagne in the other.

Viva Potatoes!

ENTRY #23
SUNDAY, OCTOBER 5, 2003

Holy Hot Sunday!

Tito went skating with Rick and Ty and Steve Berra and Oliver Bartok, and Tito's friend Manny. We went to San Pedro and shredded the San Pedro equivalent of Burnside skatepark. Steve slammed in a humorous way, Rick and Ty tore the place up, and yours truly cruised around and tried to frontside grind some pool coping. If you aren't familiar with the skatepark, it's the one that John Rattray had the cover of Thrasher doing an invert on the big quarterpipe. I will personally testify that the cover is gnarly. Viva Rattray. Viva Scotland as well. As you may or may not know, Tito has been on vacation since the Hot Chocolate Tour ended. But mild weather, a few good spots and a few good friends made the Sunday trip out to San Pedro well worth it.

All I gotta say is that I saw Ty do an invert across a bowled corner. Viva Ty! Por Vida, players. Por Vida.

There's also something else about San Pedro that I'll plug here in the column. There's a Girl/Chocolate art show on the 18th of October in San Pedro, and the proceeds go to building more onto the skatepark under the bridge.
Here's some really real:

October 18th
Walled City Gallery
309 West 7th St.
San Pedro, CA
90731
opening reception 7-10 pm
310-985-9714
www.walledcitygallery.com

There's going to be really rad shirts and artworks and things to look at and buy if you want to.

Mike Carroll will be DJ-ing with his iPod. If you know, go.

But aside from that, Tito is back at the Lounge, listening to some blues on the radio. There's a fire in the fireplace, some fine wines, frozen burritos, and an empty house. Manny took my TV the other night, so nothing to report about what's on the tube. Not like I watched it that much to begin with. Home and Garden channel is pretty awesome. Some of those rennovation jobs are pretty crazy on that one show.

I'll throw shouts out to Kelly Bird, Bob Kronbauer, Meg, Sammy 'I'm bout to get spanked in ping-pong' Smyth, Galaga, and YOU.

And a special shout out to Rick Raymond. He knows why.

Viva los tiempos buenos!

ENTRY #22
SATURDAY, OCTOBER 4, 2003

A friend of mine e-mailed me about the last post, and said that 'Tito has moved from the Shampoo Lounge to Bus Bench Philosophy'.
Maybe that last post seemed a bit harsh to some who read it, but it was an attempt at both a commentary on a certain outlook and a joke, however dry the joke may have been. The grass is always greener on the other side, but that's because there's tons of dogshit fertilizing the lawn.

But I like the term Bus Bench Philosophy!

Anyway.

So I'm watching this movie 'Midnight Cowboy' and I had to stop the tape and press eject. What a depressing movie. Joe Buck is a cowboy from Texas who takes a bus to New York City to hustle rich old women. It's all a fantasy, he can't get a woman to even tell him where the Statue Of Liberty is. He goes broke and ends up hustling dudes on the street. Then he gets mixed up with a crippled con-man named Ratso Rizzo. The movie ends with Ratso dying on a bus bound for sunny weather. Joe Buck is hip to the reality of the cold hard world.

What a damn bummer.

Maybe the column should be re-named Tito's Bus Bench or just The Bus Bench. The Shampoo Bus might be cool too. A giant indoor hot tub on wheels that stops every now and then at a bus bench to pick up some cut-rate wisdom, and keeps on rollin'. Maybe that's how you gotta live your life, amidst bubbles, champagne, fine wines, an occasional woman, and some bus bench wisdom. But regardless, you gotta keep on rollin'.

In skate news, I have no idea what is going on. Totally out of the loop. But look forward to drawings about skateboarding coming your way soon. Maybe we could make some shirts and have a giveaway so that the tappers who would even want one could get their hands on some drawings on t-shirts. What an original idea.

But make sure you get out there and skate. Learn a new trick you've been thinking about. It won't learn itself.
Sit on the curb, drink cheap soda, spit, steal doughnuts from the Krispy Kreme van, laugh, talk some shit, learn some tricks.
One day you'll remember doing all that and smile.

Don't forget to skate mini-ramps. They are really fun too.

Keep on rollin'.

Viva la bus bench! Tito loves ya.

ENTRY #21
FIRDAY, OCTOBER 3, 2003

You ever notice how the world operates according to the schedules of other people?

It seems difficult to just live, and do things at a pace that is natural to oneself. Each person is unique, and some people live fast, always on their cell phones, making plans, sprinkling gossip, always in a rush to get somewhere, or to get something.

And that's alright, if it's alright with the person. But some people don't go that fast, or they tire of that lifestyle. What happened to stopping and looking around? There's an old saying that goes something like, "Stop and smell the flowers", or something. It seems like there are no flowers to smell anymore. They've all been trampled by SUV's or apartment complexes have been built on top of them. What a bummer. Then you have to go to Ralph's and buy the plastic flowers, spray some cologne on them and sniff away while both of your telephones are ringing off the hook all day long.

It seems as if when you mention to someone that YOU ARE ON VACATION, that fast-lane living short-attention span doesn't quite catch the meaning of the phrase. It's sad that to get someone's attention these days you might have to say something like:

"Fuck off, don't fucking call me for a while, in fact, don't call me, just wait for me to call you and let you know that you can start throwing deadlines and other shit at me once again. And by the fucking way, I wasn't born into this world with the sole purpose of existing to stand at your beckoning call or to cater to the needs you have which will benefit you by my involvement in such. So Fuck You, I'll talk to you when I fucking feel like it."

You ever feel like that?

Of course you could never really put your feelings into those words and actually let those words hit someone's ears. People may be sleepwalking through this life, but dammit if they aren't sensitive as hell while they do it.

Tito's just throwing that out there. A friend of a friend was bitching the other night about something like that. I wasn't listening, I was on my cell phone 'making plans' and not really paying attention to that either.

But anyway, check out my first edition of Tito's Skate Art. More cool skate-ish drawings coming soon. It's easy! You too can do Skate Art. Just get a pen and scribble some shit and write some words. But you have to draw faces, lots of faces, and animals. The messier, the better. I'm going to draw things that actually pertain to skating, but you can draw whatever you want to at home. We have that freedom here in America. Although, someone might be taking satellite photos and starting a file on you over there in Washington, but you just sketch away. Draw robots and ducks.

Viva los bandejos!

ENTRY #20
OCTOBER 1, 2003

Tito went to Girl/Chocolate Headquarters on Monday and snooped around for awhile. Washed the car for the first time since the Hot Chocolate Tour. I just had to get the super deluxe wash with my gas at the Chevron. That thing sat in the parking lot at Girl HQ for a month, and it sat under a tree. There was birdshit and leaves and pollen dustpiles and random sap droppings all over it. Even after the wash, there are still leaves wedged under the hood in that crevice under the wipers. Tito had to get the wash, because you don't roll into the parking lot at Girl HQ with a dirty rig. All the Bentleys and Ferraris and other cars in the lot are washed daily by a group of cousins from West Virginia that have fallen on hard times in this great state of ours. The cousins come by everyday, and someone always needs or wants a wash. I have a feeling that there is some inbreeding going on. One of the cousins has a really tall forehead like Herman Munster and lazy eyes, and another one has long red hair, eyes that are so crossed you'd think he was staring at his nose, and a tattoo that says 'DADDY' on his arm. The second one wears these shoes called Flight Gear. Soapy water has turned the white leather gray. Sometimes, one of the other cousins is wearing the Flight Gear, and the second cousin wears knee-high moccassin boots. The soapy water has turned those gray too.

Someone had a motorcycle strapped up in the back of a pickup truck, no doubt still there from the Camp Whatevs crossover this past weekend. The cousins were piled in the back of the pickup washing the sand and mud off of the bike and I could see the pickup sagging in the back. Maybe twelve people and a dirtbike in the back of a pickup doesn't feel weird to them.

So Tito made the rounds and took note of some of the folks he saw. Here's a list:

Rick of Course
I heard Mike York
Got a peek of Scott Johnston skating the park
Daniel Castillo
Jeron Wilson
Diamond Nick and Fillmore Nick
Staci
Chuck
Sam Smyth

And speaking of Sam, that fool tripped on me for getting fourteen boards and an assortment of random goodies. I love you Sammy, but don't trip. It's not like I'm selling that stuff down in Costa Mesa or anything. You gotta get it while it's hot. Girl/Choc is out the door, baby. On the daily. Boom, there's a hat, boom it's gone. Boom, there's a board, boom it's gone. Hotcakes, baby. HOT CAKES.

Tito's got a recipe for the guys tonight. How to Make a Bachelor's Delight:

First, you gotta have a messy house. And no one can be in it. But you. Next, you have to go out and get an hour of massage on your legs by a fine-ass lady who ain't wearing a ring down at the chiropractor's office. Then, you have to come back home, put some jazz on the radio, and pass out from about 4 pm until 8 pm.
You go to the bookstore, buy some books. These can be novels or coffee table books about house design.
Listen to 'Tiny Dancer' by Elton John.
Drop off some overdue videos at Blockbuster.
Go to the grocery store. I prefer Ralph's, myself. Buy stuff to make sandwiches, buy frozen bean burritos and buy firewood.
Come back home, put groceries away, and use the paper bags to start the fire for the fake log which will then light the real wood on fire.
Open up a beer. This is crucial. Any beer will do.
Chill by the fire and look at pictures of houses. You can also check the caller ID and not return phone calls.

And that's a perfect Bachelor's Delight!
The cool thing about making a Bachelor's Delight is that it you can do it night after night! It's easy, and nothing ever interferes with the process, except maybe Ty Evans or a video premiere.

And that's that, 'Tappers.

Viva La Vida Solamente!

ENTRY #19
SEPTEMBER 26, 2003

Not drunk. Haven't touched a drop today. Last night was bad. I stayed up until 3 a.m. playing some game on Netscape where you keep bouncing this ball into the air and you cannot let it touch the ground. Like hitting a balloon with a mouse for three hours straight. Plus, I was on my second bottle of wine, and my second pack of smokes. Today was a turning point for Tito. I watched two movies in a row, bundled up on the couch with the covers over me, drinking orange juice that's NOT from concentrate. One of the movies I watched was called 'What Dreams May Come'. Very weird idea for a movie, but amazing scenery and imagery in that thing. The movie was depressing as all hell. A definite Hanky Yanker. Tito made that up. A hanky yanker is a movie or something that makes your eyes water or even makes you cry. You gotta yank the hanky out of your pocket a dab the eyes and blow your nose. A hanky yanker.

Yep, today was it. I don't know what I'm going to do, but it won't be drinking anytime soon. I woke up just short of shitty this morning and ran straight down to the healthfood market and stuffed my body with weird juice combinations, cayenne pepper, tabasco sauce, food. And I bought soap, a toothbrush, some mouthwash, and some dead sea mineral salts for a bath that's waiting for me right now. Plus I got some toothpaste and some sleepytime tea. There wasn't anything good to read at the restaurant. The newspaper is hard for me to read. Or maybe just difficult to enjoy. I like to read while I eat, but only while eating in restaurants, and while eating alone. I used to have a stack of books in the car just in case I forgot the one I was reading if I went out to eat. Just sitting in a restaurant sucks.

In skate news, there was a Hot Chocolate filming shoot tonight. I can't tell you very much right now, but you'll see what doesn't end up on the cutting room floor very shortly. I will say that a lot of coffee was consumed, and Richie Mulder did a pretty hot wallride. Tito had to come back home and get a soak in the tub before bed. I'll have to wait until the premiere to see what else those crazy guys got into tonight. I did see Ty Evans bust an invert stinkbug varial on a bank. He was trying to revert it when I took off. Ty's looking better and better everytime I see him. He's got that 'engagement' glow. Congratulations to Ty and Stephanie, by the way, from everyone here at The Shampoo Lounge. I'm telling you, Ty had the glow tonight. He was on fire, and in a good mood.

Massage appointment tomorrow.

The bath is waiting. I poured those dead sea mineral salts in the running water. The smell was pretty strong. Same stuff that koala bears get high from.

I wish I could find a nice girlfriend. Everyone has one but me. Some of those dudes even have wives. Since the lounge closed back in April, Tito's been a solo player. Too picky, too shy, too lazy to worry about it.

Que sera sera.

Sleepy.

ENTRY #18
SEPTEMBER 25, 2003

Tito just wandered around the house today. The phone is in the trash. I did call someone to haul away the pile of wood and drywall in the driveway, leftover from Saturday's 'let's get rid of this upstairs room' party. Before the new windows, I'd have had to carry all that stuff downstairs. Now I just chuck it out the window. I make sure and park the car on the street, though.
Other than that, I went to Pier One Imports and purchased some Kenya shades for these privacy screens I'm making that will hang from the awning over the patio. I trimmed two of my trees slightly, raked some leaves into a pile, and captured a big red spider and put it into a bucket. I watched the spider fo a minute or two, and then dumped him out under a tree in the far corner of the backyard. I wonder how different species of insects deal with one another. Like when I dumped out the spider, there were all these ants cruising around. I wonder if they even notice one another. That was a big spider, and those were the very very small ants that live in holes in the dirt. Not the big ones that bite, but the ones you'll see running back and forth in lines, like traffic. Sometimes they're carrying things way bigger than their own body size, and sometimes, there's a posse carrying something like a sandwich down the driveway. Ants are really 'with it' insects. Spiders are just predatory loners that hide in dark places and then criddle out of the cuts and jump on other bugs. Spiders are like muggers in the park, while ants are like LA traffic.

No skate news today. But I'm sure someone did something down a big rail, and someone else kickflipped a gap or something. If I was at the Girl skatepark today and I saw Mike Carroll there, I would have seen him burn it to the ground within ten minutes. But I wasn't there, so who knows. Mike's probably still dealing with the new house. I know how he feels. All except the part about skating really good at the Girl skatepark. Tito sucks at that place. Just can't get my flow on in there. The curb on top of the bank is fun, though.

And what's Ty Evans up to? He could be calling right now, but I'd never know.

The summer is gone. It goes by so fast when you're staring out the window of a tour van.

Maybe I'll shower tonight.

ENTRY #17
SEPTEMBER 22, 2003

Tito woke up at 7 am this morning, waiting for the drywall repair company to show. Went to get some coffee at that really popular coffee store that everyone gets coffee from, unless you're one of those people who only support independent, college-town type coffee shops. Well, I'm a yuppie, I wear Banana Republic clothes and I get my coffee at the popular coffee shop. But I get FREE coffee because I am Bad-Ass, and it's only a block away from my house. The drywall repair guy was in his El Camino parked on the street having his coffee and a bear-claw as I drove by.

So I'm drinking coffee in the backyard. There's a pile of dried leaves from the tree bunched up in the corner by the cinderblock wall. For some reason, I set the leaves on fire. It was fun. I started raking more leaves from the yard and dumping them on the fire. More and more, flames and smoke everywhere. I was tending the fire with a three-prong metal dirt rake thing, minding my own business and drinking my coffee. I cannot stress enough the fact that it was fun. And damn peaceful, too.

Then some cops walked into my house and made their way through the living room and out into the backyard. Holy shit! Cops?
One of the cops was laughing when he saw my modest little fire tucked away next to the cinderblock wall. Someone called the fire department and he expected to see a blaze of glory. I just stirred the fire and asked him what was wrong, smiling. He told me to put the fire out, that you can't burn leaves, however small the pile, in your backyard. Then he called off the fire trucks. They showed up anyway. The end result was six cops and four firefighters hanging out in my backyard discussing how to get rid of deep-rooted plants that just won't stop growing, no matter how far down you clip the stump. AND, one of the cops kicked my coffee over. He did it on purpose because I was laughing that all these people gave a shit about my little fire. They said that I was right in assuming that fires are a no-no in the backyard from now on and they left. They all think I'm an idiot now.

But, I got a massage and a chiropractic adjustment moments later, and went back to the coffee store, told them a cop kicked my coffee over and they gave me another free cup of coffee. I tried to get sponsored by the company, but after I used a connection to call an agency that can hook that sort of sponsorship up, I found out that they only sponsor poets and book clubs. The Girl and Chocolate (especially Chocolate) teams are almost entirely coffee fiends, and that would've been awesome to get a big coffee sponsorship for everyone. Cool coffee membership cards and shirts and stickers and maybe even mugs and espresso makers and things. But they don't deal with athletes at all, so look forward to 'Poems by Tito' published by Shampoo Press to be released probably sometime in the spring. Then we'll all get free coffee. Maybe Girl could start a book club and work a deal out that way. Who knows. What I do know is that I like coffee.

And it's barely noon right now in Tito's Monday. Tons of action at the crack of dawn today. It was cloudy this morning, but it's not now.

Remember: if a cop kicks over your coffee, most likely it was on purpose.

I'd like to say what's up to Scott Johnston, Gino, Rick, Richie, Kenny, York and all my homies that love the nectar of the sweet bean.

Viva la cafe gratis!

ENTRY #16
SEPTEMBER 22, 2003

Went skating last night in downtown LA. Skated some parking blocks, a manual pad three feet long, the old steep brick trannies from Video Days and Mouse (Rick had a line there in Mouse) some other round bank with stuff in the middle and a set of two stairs where you had to do things like pivots on the second stair. It was sort of fun, and then some late night japanese food. I almost feel asleep driving home. I kept thinking that if I went home and took a crap I wouldn't have time to go to 7-11 and get a beer. I could've gotten a beer first, then taken the crap, but man, I really had to get this one out. I missed the 2 o'clock shut-off, and decided to brush my teeth before bed. I also brushed my tongue rigorously. Wine turns your tongue purple and that shit won't just come off. You have to scrub it with a special tongue brush for winos that's sold at hippie health food markets and such, much like the Orange County Punk Rock Snobbery called Mother's.
It's a funny thing when you encounter some chick with scrappy-ass hair (usually stale-looking from color after color dye and bleach jobs), more tattoos than a Jim Rose Circus Sideshow freak, metal things sticking into, out of, and through strange body parts, and a wardrobe consisting of whatever was cheapest at Salvation Army that day, and she treats you like trash who has no business shopping amongst the upper crust social circles of Southern California. Like, "what the fuck do You know about vitamins? The vegan cookies are over there, and organic toilet paper is too soft for your trashy butthole, anyway. And you don't flush it, you recycle it, moron. By the way, do you know where I can get some drugs?"

Tito justs never talks anymore. New punk rock is gross. But I brushed my tongue, and readied that bitch for another coat of red wine, which should be arriving via delivery sometime this evening.
Have you ever had so many ideas running around in your head that you just don't have time to eat? You want to do all these things, cool things, like make coffee tables and hammocks, and you forget to eat. You go days without eating and you find yourself not pooping as much as you used to when you didn't have any really good ideas?

Well I pooped last night.

There just aren't enough hours in the day to do everything AND poop and eat and sleep and stuff.

Are you getting older when you really like drinking beer and woodworking? Is it weird to stare at your lawn and say things like, "I could put a couple of large stones over there. Spruce it up a bit," and "some podicarpus would add both shade and privacy to the yard and give it that Oriental feel"?

I'm gonna back-lip a twelve pack at Camp Whatevs. Maybe do a beer bong to fakie with Smyth. And we're goin' STREAKING!!!!

Look forward to a lot of Crail/Girl employees upset while blushing and giddy.

Wipe your sandy crack with organic toilet paper for all the punk rockers under the age of twenty-five in Orange County.

Vive la revolucion des borrachos!

ENTRY #15
SEPTEMBER 21, 2003

Tito is eating a club sandwich and some fries. Some seasoned fries. It's 4 something. I don't have a watch.

The landscaper came out today to go over blueprints and get some money. They don't start work until November 3rd. Ain't that a bitch?

No skateboarding today, either. Actually, don't feel like skateboarding for awhile. It's been crammed down my friggin' throat for four months straight, and frankly, I'm burned out on skateboarding. Tito is taking some time off for himself and his house remodeling. Plus, a strict regimen of massage will shortly be undertaken. Old man sore now. Pruny feet. Too much shampoo lounge hot tub. Too much martini. Wooooooo!

Anyways, what's up to all my doggs. That's two g's (the extra 'g' signifies friend instead of actual dog).

I don't hear any barking.

Yall are shit anyway. I'm getting some birds or hedgehogs or something else. Maybe fish. Yer 'doggs' just shit on the furniture anyway.

French fries....so good.

Freedom fries. Yeeeaaaaaahhhhhh.

Turkey, bacon, bread. Talk to me, mama. How much do I owe you?

Camp Unicorn next week. Big tents, beer, oceans. Unicorn means 'one corn'.

Vive la corn!!!

ENTRY #14
SEPTEMBER 18, 2003

Tito is drinking a Heineken right now. Tito is also building these nice windshade/privacy screens for the back patio. I don't have a dog, nor do I want one. I rarely remember to feed me, imagine how the little pup would suffer. No time for poo, no time for pee. The best way to live is to play with other people's dogs and them put then down and go separate ways.

Tito is officially the high scorer at Galaga at Girl HQ. Yesterday I got to stage 104 and my high score was 999960. The game kept going and my score was something like 1,100,000, but there's no room on the screen for all those numbers, so it stopped at 999960 right before I blasted one of the blue bees and the high score was locked in, although I kept playing. I finally gave up and then Sam spanked me at ping pong, 21-12. I thought I had juice, too.

Morris Klampert will one day be mine. I just need to play more than once every five months. But I guess Andy Mueller played all the time Sam was on the Hot Chocolate tour and Sam didn't even see a ping pong table the whole time, and Sam came home a whipped him and took Morris Klampert back to the team managers office. One game. Sammy's hot right now, watch out. It's funny, because he brings Morris Klampert to the games with him and sets the little guy on one of the warehouse shelves while he plays. Sam really brings it to the table, you know? Pink slip is on the dash and the light's been red for a minute. You know how that feels?

You should play Galaga next time you happen to visit Girl HQ. Set your wondrous gaze upon the high score and know that Tito has blessed the fire button.

In skate news, no one is skating. There is a such thing as Vacation, even for pro skateboarders. Or so I hear.

But I'm really excited already about the Girl/Chocolate Christmas party. I'm getting an outfit together little by little. Need that yellow turtleneck.
Can anyone say "Robert Goulet"?

QUICK: Staring contest. Stare at this dot . on the screen and see who blinks first.

ENTRY #13
SEPTEMBER 13, 2003

Tito's back, babe.

Just got back from the Hot Chocolate Tour. Sipping some cheap 7-11 Cabernet right now at noon. That may sound strange, but the coffee this morning gave me the jitters. You have to have balance in your life, you know.
So anyway, the tour was great. There wasn't room in the two huge vans for Tito, so Chocolate was kind enough to rent a trailer for my hot tub and tow me across the Americas and back. I tell you, there's nothing like seeing our vast and glorious country from the comfort of a hottub going 95 miles per hour behind a 15-passenger van. And you know how it's very very illegal to drink and drive, or to even have opened beers and whatnot inside of a vehicle, moving or stopped in this country? Well it is. But an interesting thing happened very quickly in the early part of the tour. Let me tell you about it.
Sam Smyth was pulled over for speeding. It wasn't really speeding, it was more like not being able to stare at the road, an atlas, the gas pedal, and the speedometer at the same time. I was sipping a martini in the tub, and the officer gave me the strangest look while on the way to the window of the van. I just waved and gave him a "it's a beautiful day officer, isn't it?" Sam had to show ID and insurance and all that stuff, and the officer made him explain me and the hot tub. Sam abruptly corrected the police officer. "It's not a hot tub, it's The Shampoo Lounge. Don't you read Crailtap?" This stumped the officer, who then cited various county municipal codes blah blah blah, but none covered drinking martinis in a towed hot tub. There was something in there about safety and drinking in public, but he let Sammy go with a warning and told me to dump the martini. I could swear that the officer was tempted to strip and get in the tub and mix a drink and hit the road with us. There was just that bewildered look in his eyes, like he'd just woken up from a dream into a far better dream. Ah, you know how fickle those police officers can be.
Sorry for the lag in updates. Tito has been trying to get his act together since that last update. No more pain killers while updating the column, and no more commenting on anyone else's business while on pain killers. Talk about Jekyll and Hyde. Nasty nasty stuff, folks.

Highlights of the tour include:

- Being called a 'Diarrhea Cupcake' for not updating a column I wanted Crailtap to shitcan
- Richard Mulder's driving
- Special Guest appearance by Rick Raymond in the midwest
- Partying with Bjork in Boston
- The seven-foot tall solid white angel with a feather tutu at the Bjork after-party
- Kicking a security guard in the nuts at the Bjork after-party
- Spike Jonze
- The Five Star Restaurant in Raleigh, North Carolina
- Chris Roberts powdered donut lips crackie scratch-neck driving shift
- 3 hours of Galaga on a hotel television in Long Island
- Scuba Steve switch kringle round 15 TKO
- Gino skating in pajamas
- Anything Ty Evans
- Shooting Roman Candles at Rick Howard
- The skating of Kenny Anderson
- Banana Republic
- The Big Inn, which had so many roaches in the rooms it was renamed 'The Bug Inn'
- Lee Dupont's iPod
- Getting flashed by some girl in the hallway of a Motel 6 (she had a big booty)
Everything else

There was so much more. All good times. You'll see all the good stuff in the video. Thanks to Girl and Chocolate for letting Tito tow along for the ride.
Now that I'm back at home I have no idea what to do. I might spend the next few days mowing the lawn. And I'd like to let Rick Raymond know that the rent check is in the mail. Tell the Bear to keep it at Jack's until the check clears.

Viva Chocolate Caliente!

ENTRY #12
APRIL 1, 2010

Ha Ha! April Fool's Day!!! It's still 2003!!! Wooo!!

I need to be serious here for a minute. I won't name any names, but some sincere apologies need to go out to a few folks about something I wrote the other night. I won't go into what it was, but man was I a wee bit rough about a certain topic. I presented my opinion on that topic, but never should have posted it. I should've just deleted it. In fact, maybe I should read my column episodes before I post them, because more often than not, I change my mind about something, or decide that I could've rephrased something.

I should've rephrased my brain, because I know better than to make people feel bad. I'm trying to have a good time, and I went over the line and got a bit too personal about something that should've stayed away from my column, because the public reads it, potentially takes my opinion as the truth, etc. and lots of feelings are hurt.

Also, I want to add that nothing expressed in this column should be connected with Crailtap or its affiliates. This column comes from outside the circle, so I need to apologize to the Crailtap staff as well for involving them with my serious error of judgement.

The offended parties know who they are, and I want them to know that nothing like that will ever go up in this column again ever. I apologize for typing off at the mouth, and I never wanted to burn any bridges. I feel terrible right now, because people were offended (understandably so) who weren't meant to be offended. It sounds weird but no one was meant to be offended. I feel a little too strong about something that I'M NOT INVOLVED WITH. So, to boot, I'm a hypocrite.

I'll take a bow and remove my foot from my mouth. Sincerest apologies to everyone involved, including Crailtap.

ENTRY #9
MARCH 26, 2003

Lots going on today, tappers, for your host-wit'-the-most. I'll brief you on my day. Since it has nothing to do with your own life, it might not be that interesting. But, I'll let you know what a Full Day looks like, so that you can be super bummed that Tito does more in one day than you do in a week, probably.

Actually, I'm not serious about that. I don't know what yall do with your days, so I can't talk. I'm just hyped on my day today, so I'm all spracked out about it. Get bored!

7am. Wake up. Smoke cig and drink tea
8am. Drive to the bank. It's not open yet, drive back home.
8:30am. Drive to FedEx to mail something out.
9am. Go back to bank, it's open, do some banking.
10am. Take out trash and yard clippings. Almost puke from stench of rain-soaked clippings.
11am. Make lots of phone calls, compile tax info, smoke cigs, drink coffee.
11:30am. Talk to Kenny Anderson. Consultation about what he should wear to video premier. Sort it out.
12 noon: Wal-Greens calls, Vicodin refill is ready. Tito goes into shock, because Tito had no refills.
12:02. 75mph all the way to Wal-Greens to confirm in person. It's true. 25 bucks. Weird.
12:20. Stress session. Afraid to get addicted to Vicodin. "Am I addicted? I didn't think I was. I haven't had one in days."
12:21. Holla at one pill. Drink tea. More phone calls. Arrange for hauling of old bricks and wood in the back yard.
1pm. Noahs Bagels for pastrami sandwich. Turkey sandwich to go.
2pm. HARSH Home Depot session. I bought a router, a tile-saw, a router bit, cutting guide and two saw horses.
4:30pm: Another vicodin pill, more 'Am I addicted' stress, decide no, unpack car, put new tools in garage.
4:36pm. Hit the streets with Mulder and the boys. Double kickflip to manual. Sunset. Smoke cig and drink water. 7pm. Skateshop session. Three skate videos. Blackout, PJ Ladd's WHL, and Aesthetics DVD.
8pm. Hit the store to get some tea and honey, and then a burger from L&L Hawaiian BBQ and a coffee.
9pm. Write this column. Bore the crap out of those unfortunate enough to make it this far into column. Apologize.

Yep, that's a Full Day. And it's all true, too. I haven't even eaten my cheeseburger yet, or watched any new skate videos.

Damn what a full day.

I'm not taking another pill tonight. I'm paranoid of getting addicted to those things. Cigarettes are bad enough. I don't need another monkey on my back. And the fact that I took two today for no reason sort of scares me. I mean, last week it was alright. I had some rotten teeth pulled and that hurt, so the pills helped. But I called for a refill just to see what would happen. Mysteriously enough, it went through, and that scared me as it was, so I had to take one to calm down from being freaked out about the refill going through. So that's okay. The second one was as pointless as this column. Maybe I should take another to calm me down about the second one. Oh but that would lead to a fourth one. Hmm...

I'll just eat my cheeseburger I think.

I got some TRIFE rumors for yall:

Word on the street is that the contractor I hired to help me build stuff around the house has a 'drinking problem'. When he saw me drinking a Pabst Blue Ribbon the other day he started drooling. I gave him one and he downed it. Then I heard the rumor. I was also instructed not to give him large amounts of money at any one time, because he might disappear for days on end, spending that money on booze. I haven't seen him in two days. He had a full tank of gas and 200 bucks. Hmm...

Also, I heard that Torrance really isn't an actual city at all. It's more like a weird state of mind.

And the shocker of all shockers: Some people STILL skate even if a filmer or photographer isn't at a spot.

But you see those guys about as often as you see Bigfoot roasting marshmallows over a fire in your backyard.

Get ready for a full [NAME CENSORED BY CRAILTAP] part in Yeah Right. And Tito gots the sneak peek at the Mike York footy. Two words: AWE SOME. I haven't seen anything else, so I'm excited. I hope I can actually get into the premier. At the Mouse premier Rick brushed me off so hard that the two guys I brought to LA for the premier got in, but Rick clicked the velvet rope across in front of me as my two friends went in. It was like a bad scene right out of Studio 54. Like Rick's the bouncer and stuff. I'll recap with what I said to Rick, and it's so right out of a movie. Check this out:

"Hey, Rick, I'm with those guys."

Tito didn't forget that. Rick doesn't even remember. That's why revenge is so sweet.

A quick shout-out to the folks at Ring Ring Ring and to Smyth for lacing me with that Ruby kit. That jacket is 'too tight'. And that's better than 'dope'. I get lots of compliments from the ladies who spin now, too. It used to just be dudes. They don't care what you wear.

Goosebumps.

Oh and don't forget. Double kickflip manual. Toot-toot! Tito rips! Hopefully Ty will put my footage in the video. It's nothin' but hammers.

My cheeseburger is cold, and I guess the contractor is back in town. I can see him ringing my doorbell right now. He shaved the 'I been in TJ, what day is it?' beard and he looks like he's ready to do some more work. He'll probably ask me to give him gas money. God loves us all, so that's okay.

Tito says, "If you have more than you need, share with those who don't."

Later, Flowers. Oh, and a shout out to K-Bird as well. He's not a flower, though. He's family. And what up wit my Frisco flowers? Rick's up in the mix. How's the Bear or what?

Tito loves ya. He sucks at writing anything remotely interesting. But at least he admits it, which makes it worsely better.

ENTRY #8
MARCH 25, 2003

Tappers. Good evening. How are you?
Well that's good.

War Update: They're still fighting.

Tito paid a visit to the Girl headquarters this afternoon. Not saying any names, but PILLS were changing hands. Multiple brands, too. Included in the list of Girl employees who are not PILLHEADS are:
Chick the small dog.
Yes, chick is an employee. The little pup gets a monthly check for adding to the 'ambience' of the offices. It's true. I've seen one of Chicks checks and it's more than some board royalty checks. But Tito ain't sayin' any names.

That was the highlight of my day. Oh, and I got a Ruby jacket with a musical instrument on it. It's olive green like part of my martini.
That was cheesy. Sorry.

Ain't shit to report today players. The war has got me down, Staba's rollin' a car that Tito is interested in, minus the 22's, and Rick Howard is Rick Howard.
Sample telephone conversation:

(laughter) "What's up? What are you doin'?"

(laughter) " I don't know, what are you doin'?"

(30 seconds of laughter)

Rick: "Oh my God. what are you doin?"

(more laughter)

You get the gist.

Hot rumors:

Carroll was trying out new shirts? AND didn't say what's up to Tito?

Pintos were never recalled.

Chick is loaded. He doesn't trust anyone else. Supposedly 'everyone' is his friend.

That's it, Tappers. Short and sweet. But still pointless.

Say what's up to Carroll for me, because I sure didn't.

Later, players. And I'm not using that word anymore. Let's call everyone, um, flowers from now on. Later, flowers.

ENTRY #7
MARCH 14, 2003

Well, now.

Hmmm... I thought we were all thuppoth'd to be friendth here at the Tap Weethy. But I gueth there'th no room on Crail for two boring columnth.

Yeth. I do Thpin. Tito'th been dithy for dayth!!

Dizzy for days!

Well, if I knew the backboard backlash would be so harsh, I wouldn't have bothered. When you're about two bottles deep, and the guy who writes Ring Ring Ring is begging you to do a column, you just might agree to do a column. You also might agree to go to some club in Hollywood and watch dudes in spandex play AC/DC covers. You might even throw up the horns and tell the lead singer to fuck himself while you bang your head and take nips off of the third bottle of the night, which you smuggled into said club in your green trenchcoat. Anything can happen.

Tito ain't never gonna mention that word that starts with 'B' and ends with 'ASKETBALL' on this soon-to-be-abandoned long boring column anyway. Tito ain't a hater, he's just plain ig'nant. But he'll tell it to you like it is. Or like what it looks like it is.

To the dude who writes Ring Ring:

You jessa a mean dude, dude. If I knew you were gonna draw me in and hate on me and my ig'nance, and where I'm from, I'd have never let you bum all those smokes off me at the bar while you was begging me to do a column. You smoked my whole pack, man. That's some shit, right there. I'm hurt, and I ain't singing no more songs on the lettered piano until the coast is clear. Oh, and Tito is sorry for insinuating that I was speculating about the hesitating. And the hating. I reread my column and it did in fact appear that I had an attitude problem that night. And speaking of rereading, go back to the disclaimer in issue #1 of The Shampoo Lounge. Tito has problems. Sorry, man. Write what you will, I'll love it just the same.

Today's STUPID PHRASE:

Lettered Piano

It means typewriter. I suggest you don't use the phrase or the typewriter. You might get The Backlash. And you might love it in a sick sort of way. So stay away.

I spin so hard, YOU'LL get dizzy.

And about the griptape: I just meant that it can't get any better.

So to clarify, I don't know about the B-word. Not gonna mention it. Stupid Phrase. Don't use it. Griptape. Tip-Top. Cigarettes. Got smoked. Tito. Yeth I thpin. Shampoo Lounge. Closed.

Today's only nasty rumor:

Dolly Parton had a boob job back in the 70's.

Actually, here's one more:

Kenny Rogers hit that. Then he started a chicken franchise.

Nobody gives a shit either way. I love backthide 360's, becauth I THPIN 'em so good. No one-foot'th here!

I'll close the lounge doors on this one. Love thy neighbor. And could somebody help me get this knife out of my back? Anyone?

ENTRY #6
MARCH 13, 2003