Bum Party!

I live in Santa Monica, CA, where there are as many hot chicks as there are homeless people. And the fucked up thing is that I check out both of them equally, but for very different reasons. Here is a “me checking out a bum” story from yesterday that I wanted to share with you all:

I love a few blocks away from the beach, so I run down there a lot. In order to get to the beach, you have to cross a bridge over PCH, then go down this spiral ramp to get down to beach level. The inside of this spiral ramp, right at the bottom, is a classic bum hangout—as its’ pretty much covered unless you’re looking down from the top of the spiral.

So, I’m looking down the spiral, and I see a bum—posted up on a camping chair, perusing through a magazine propped up on his leg. If it wasn’t for the stench, the dirt, and the orange vest thing he was wearing, he could have looked like some trendy LA guy reading US Weekly at The Coffee Bean. Maybe this was a classy guy. Maybe I’m a judgmental prick that assumes that a guy down on his luck is just a drunk or drug addict and couldn’t possible enjoy sitting back on a chair on a lovely afternoon and read a nice magazine. Who the hell do I think I am?

I jog down the spiral ramp, and now I’m right above him. I slow down and look down to see what he’s reading…. Can anyone guess? That’s right, a porno magazine. There were no words on the page I saw, it was a chick with a giant dick in her mouth. The best part is that he wasn’t like jerking off, or looking perverted with this thing—he was licking his fingers and turning the pages like it was The New Yorker. Classy guy, this man.

Now it’s about 30-45 minutes later, and I’m on the return leg of my run. I’m wondering if this guy is gonna be in a big old recliner, smoking a pipe, reading to a group of children or some shit. I’m excited to see how his day has progressed. I turn the corner, and I see… get this… TWO bums! He brought a friend, and now it’s a bum party. His friend is now “reading” the magazine, while our original protagonist is pouring a brown-bagged bottle of vodka into two ½ full bottles of orange soda. It’s a bum party! Which isn’t that different than a party that you or I go to: liquor, good friends, and women (or pictures of them). Hey, you gotta make do with what you got right? I was tempted to pull up a chair and join them, but even while all sweaty and gross from a hard workout, they said I smelled too good. I got kicked out of a bum party—what an ego killer.

--Robbie

Hot Chicks Jogging

I’ve been working out a lot recently, mainly due to making myself feel guilty with all the free time I’ve had during the day. My new thing is every other day I lift weights at the gym, and the other days I run on the beach. I live 9 blocks from the beach, and its just starting to get warm enough where hot chicks are coming to the beach again—my favorite time of year. But I have a new pet peeve while checking out ladies at the beach: hot chicks that run like morons.

Has anyone else been victim to this? You’re running along the beach, it’s a lovely day, and you see a sweet rack on a girl running towards you. Bouncing up and down, it’s a beautiful thing. But when you look at the whole package, this girl runs like she has a stick up her ass and is having a seizure in her hips and arms. It becomes all I can focus on. That face, that ass, and that sweet sweet rack are pushed to the background as I watch these elbows flying side to side.
I could see this girl at a part the next day, looking smoking hot… my friends are all drooling over her…

“Look at those boobs!”

“Look at that ass!”

And I’d be like, “look at those stupid elbows!”

I saw this chick at the beach today, her elbows were up, going side to side… this girl ran like a cholo!

Sorry for the dated hispanic rap song reference, I’m sleepy.


--Robbie