The Entertainment Capital of the World!

If I were an artist, I think my life's goal would be to get to paint a mural on the 101. Man, that would rock! And it would be pretty easy to show up the other ones, cause man, some of them suck ass. Like, you know the one with all the children of various races running and playing? What's up with the very last kid? I think he's supposed to be either white or hispanic, or maybe italian. Whatever. He's got the ugliest expression of all time on his deformed little face. He's like the token retarded kid of this mixed-race neighborhood. He also looks a lot younger than the rest, which indicates, to me anyway, that he's either got the downs or is just a runt. My point being, whichever race is supposed to be represented by that kid should be pissed, cause he looks like crap.

As much as I enjoy that one, however, I must say that my favorite mural is the one with the cop pointing out at you saying "BUCKLE UP." I think maybe like a mile further down they should write "...or else." Maybe some highway accident statistics to brighten your morning? Or oh, I know, a picture of a head cracked open on the asphalt with brains spilled everywhere. It would have to be very photorealistic, though, to be effective.

Does it seem like I have been spending way too much time on the 101 for someone who lives in Fontana? Well, it's true, I have. However, I must say that out of these four incredibly long work days, the hour drive each way has been by far the best part. I still get kind of excited each time I drive past downtown, and even more so when I see the hollywood sign up in the hills, the capitol records building, and exits for all the famous streets. And the murals.

Here is an example of the kind of incredibly stimulating social interaction I have been exposed to in the last three days:

Woman holds up beach towel. "How much?"
"That one's ten. It's on sale. Normally it would be twenty. The sponge bob ones are ten and the rest are twenty."
"Um. No English."
"Oh. Sponge Bob, Ten (points). All the rest, twenty (points)."
"Oh." Puts down towel and walks away.

Either that or:
"Where is Jurassic Park?"
"Jurassic Park? You know, I'm not sure. I'm actually a temporary worker, so I don't really know my way around. Sorry."
"Oh. Ok."

or just:
"One coke? Three dollars... And 17 dollars is your change, thank you."

Yeah, you heard me. Threeeee dollars. You don't even wanna know about the beers.

In conclusion, I would like to note that an hour spent driving toward your home passes about ten million times faster than an hour spent standing on sore feet next to a kiosk filled with 20 dollar flip flops which nobody is buying in the cold alone listening to a live band which is stationed about 10 feet away from your ear play the same songs every thirty minutes and they are as follows: I'm a Believer, All Star, Hey Ya, Born to be Wild, If the Swamp is a rockin don't come a knockin. All of which songs are owned, apparently, by Universal, and have had their lyrics changed to have more to do with Shrek. Oh my God.