.FY.

Fortunate Youth is the new band i'm managing.

they played the infamous ROXY on Sunset blvd last week. The place has an intense amount of energy flowing throughout the floor but especially up in the green room area. Maybe i was just really stoned but with the pictures ranging from Bob Marley to the Rolling Stones sitting in the exact same place i was. I found myself reliving the past, only better.



I am proud of their success thus far. And i feel it's going to take us a long way in our futures if we follow our passion for music. Music needs to be life for every band member and managing needs to be my life. And right now. It is

Fortunate Youth:

Decisions. Decisions...

Waking up much earlier than normal wednesdays i rolled out of bed around 7:15... watered the lawn in the back before the gardener cut the grass(which im still not sure if it makes it any easier for him) and started my emails. A couple rejections from venues which isn't abnormal, vistaprint discounts, and, as always, a couple shit chain mails from my dad. All of this while casually sipping on tea in the new autumn crispness. Fall was going to be my awakening. Until i got the dreadful call that i was late to court.

The court case was rescheduled for today from about a month back and it had fully slipped my mind. That is until i got a call threating me with a personal escort to the courthouse in handcuffs. Let me tell you i was down there faster than superman switched costumes!

A court case which i was finally on the other side for, which in the end i almost, ALMOST, wished i was on the receiving end. But in a sense i am. I was testifying in a Robbery case which i was a victim of. So i wait for feel like 8 hours, but really only 3, outside this courtroom which i have no clue whats going on inside of. If the shallow soul who held a gun to my head was in there and i would finally be able to clearly see what he looked like, and to see what his accomplices look like, not just the tops of their shoes and sound of their shouting voices. So when i'm finally let in to take the stand. yes just like in movies, right next to the judge, behind the court recorder.
The Real Deal.
Right Hand up....
-"Swear to tell the truth and nothing but the truth so help you god?" ( or some political/religious gar gen like that)
-"i do"
So as the prosecutor begins to ask me questions to make me re-live this nightmare it appears to me that all of these shallow souls have parents and friends who care about them just like we all do. And all of them came to see the trial, the entire courtroom was cramped with their family and peers. And now they were all focused on me, all attention to the stand. Who knows if they knew what really happened on March 24th, 2009. who knows if they knew another altered version. do they know their precious baby put a gun to MY head threatening me with my life. A long life i have ahead of me.
for some reason i just dont think they did. They have embedded in their minds that their baby would never do something like that. Just as every mother wants to think of their own.
While im here, against my will, telling the truth, and most likely about to make a testimony to put these guys away for however long the judge decides to serve justice. And im under oath, which really doesnt mean shit to me since im the least religious person i know. but breaking code results in perjury so i'll stick with the truth!
I answer all the questions to the best of my photographic memory giving such details as the writing on his shirt and baseball team on his cap. I had it down. well up until i had to identify the person with the gun. And the problem wasnt picking out the person, cause i felt his presence as soon as i entered the courtroom. But i was asked not only to point him out from across the room, but to leave the stand and walk up right next to him and point him out.
"Just so we can have it clear on our records and no miscommunications"
thats fucking bullshit if you ask me. i mean c'mon
so i did. i exited the stand. walked around the prosecution. and directly behind the defense counsel i stood next to the man who held a gun to my head, with his family and friends standing within 2 feet of it all.
Hands sweating from an anxiety attack.
pits sweating from nervousness.
I cant believe i was actually doing it... Never in my life would i want to do anything to put someone else in jail. Ever.
But i feel this was a very different situation.

So to top everything off they release everyone off to lunch right after my testimony meaning i being let out with the families and friends of the people i just testified against. Let's just say i walked the exact opposite direction and didnt look up to even check. Until i was waiting in the parking lot and they started driving by me giving me the you-made-the-wrong-move kind of smiles.

... i just finished my game and we lost. whatever. fuck it... no ones seems to see things the same way i do. and for some odd reason i believe it's because of lack of experience. whatever im over today.

Today i didnt get out of my sweatpants... yes its 10:40 at night and i havent bothered to change my clothes for at least 24 hours. Gross. Yes. But a comfortable, pleasing decision that made my day!
By the way, Target has sweatpants for $5. In Multiple Colors. Judge if you will, but you might be the next target to borrow them after finding a new love the Lord's name. my walls are paper thin and the roomies arent the heaviest sleepers...

another successful tuesday of persistance and denial. Hoping for that one person to give me a chance to prove i have the walk to back up my talk.

Also found out an old friend's a lesbian..... RAAAADDD!
except i always had this secret thing for her. and felt her up in the movies in 6th grade. but thats beside the point. she likes the clam now. a true carpet muncher. oh well. not everyone's perfect.

To a NOONAN win tomorrow. fuck frash and whatever team we're playing.
Our pre-game is their main event.

jared.

Breaking Hiatus

Going through the things i havent gotten around to in a while i came across my old blogs... not only was i very unimpressed with some of the topics i chose, but with the quality of writing. i definitely thought i was making a little more sense than that. wow! then again i never write without taking my medicine...ha.

It appears to me that i am very unstable. My blog is an emotional roller coaster relaying my love/hate relationship with life at times. Wow. get it together Grouch.

i am really going to put forth effort to write much more often. maybe its why ive been so stressed is because i havent had a chance to battle the tablet.

soon enough!

Writer's Block

I have been so busy lately, I've failed to write in any of my journals including this one! You can call it what you want....Haitus, Writers Block, Too Blacked out, and whatever else your lil' mind can render up. But bottom line is that i have been in a fucking slump for the last couple months, I wont lie.

Countless notable events have passed and i have yet to share any of them with you...... i pitty myself for being soo selfish! And i truly apologize..........NOT. I've either had to much work to write or got sooo blacked out the night before i couldnt even try and make up what happened. ya it got that wild!

but lucky for me people have been nice enough to send me pictures....well either to remind me that i was "that" guy or just for legendary keepsakes. sooo here's some of the pics of the places ive been in the last couple months







Partying with Uncle Ronnie!























Went Incognito con Lan...


























And I Got my Wings!!




Well i know this could be a lot better but theres a little taste of what i've been up to. I'll make sure i get around too writting in this more.. its good that my bosses arent here this week....

Kenny "The Guy Who Lives In Front of My House"

OK so i wake up Sunday morning, not knowing what the hell happened the night before. Mark calls me at 7:45 and asks me to pick him up at his boat. Looks like someone couldnt make it home last night.... haha. so after taking 45 detours through hermosa beach, due to a triatholon, i finally make it down to the Harbor to pick Mark up. He and Malia looked as if they had gotten run over by a Mack truck, eyes barely open, and still fully inibrieated. And lord knows I wasnt in any shape to be driving. But i dropped them off at their car and we met at Amigo's for a famous Breakfast Burrito.......

I get home after eating the Burrito that made my insides want to jump out of me annd here is this two tone, light brown, Molester van parked in my front yard......what the fuck???

So I find out it's a guy that goes to AA meetings with my roomate every morning, but he's not even sober. hahah how about that shit, a guy that goes to a meeting every morning for sobriety but isnt even fucking sober. hahah, i love it. So I start shootin the shit with this guy to see what his deal is and why he has a "molester van" that he calls a "hippie van". ya fuckin right hippie van. and i find out that he was the first victim of a car-jacking. And that he was shot in the face for his car. some 50 cent type shit right dur.

Well it came down to me realizing that this guy doesnt have much. He's living out of his car (which is parked in front of my house right now), He only goes to these AA meetings to try and meet people that will actually accept him. So realizing that he doesnt really have any money or anything like that, i buy him a pack of smokes and my roomate buys him lunch. I think this really did it for him, from this point on he wasnt afraid to ask for anything....can i have another smoke? whose chips are these? can i use your shower? do you have an extra toothbrush?

I mean all this would be fine and dandy if i was making $100,000 a year. But i mean i have a hard enough getting by for myself. I work hard for my money, and that's so i can do the things i want. I mean yes i consider myself a giving person, a really giving person for that matter. but i can only give soo much to someone who isnt returning the favor until i have to cut them off.

And today i woke up and he was in our kitchen.... he said that he had been over at coffee bean across the street and there was this guy who was wearing a bunch of clothes covered in mud. so regardless to him having no money whatsoever he was going to give this man some of his clothes. This blew my mind. A person with nothing, wanted to still give the little that he had. it was simply amazing. I mean it was 615 in the morning and i was suddenly surprised by this man's actions as i left for work.

Even though it bothers me that he is in front of our house, i have come to realization that all he needs is someone to talk to. he has no one, no one that cares, and when someone actually gives him the time of day it makes everything worht while for him. So i gave him a little bit of pot and sent him on his way as i drove to work. hope his day went well and his raper van wont be in my drive-way when i get home today.......

HURTIN'

If I Could Only Re-live This Weekend Today. Me and beer bonded like Spinach and Ecoli. Out of Control. Work was rough today. Kegs got stolen, super bummed on that. Brain.....hurts. bad. more later........



..........well I'm finally starting to feel like a person again. I hope that everyone that crosses path with me this weekend wasnt offended too bad, cause the whole memory thing went down the drain after about 10 AM saturday. Hell yes!

The Old Hometown Fair........less than a week countdown!

As we slowly make the transition into Autumn and real beautiful things start to happen(although we dont have any arboral alterations, we make up for it with annual inibrieated social gatherings) like the Halloween, massive orgy's(halloween parties), Thanksgiving, and what we have coming up first on the list: The Old Hometown Fair!

For as long as i can remember, every first weekend in October i have gone to the Hometown Fair. But just recently i figured out what the hype about the H.F.(as i shall call it from hereon) is really about. It's not about going and looking at peoples fair-quality trinkets, or even getting a ride on the egyptian elephant. It's about people re-visiting their hometown from where ever they might have moved to, to get excessivly drunk and say its for "the GOOD ole' days"! It's about going strictly to get that Pepper-Belly that you could've easily made all year, but you waited, because you now it wouldn't have tasted half as good. It's about being 35 years old and still trying to win goldfish as reminder that "you're not THat old"!!!

Just thinking about the H.F. makes my mouth water for a funnel cake/Pepper-Belly combo. Only 4 days til my wallet is swallowed by every food booth and even more so to the infamous Jardin de cerveza!!! My first legal year to go in the Beer Garden is in 4 days and i think it might be more excited than my 21st B-day.

viva la H.F.


hungry for pepper bellies,
j.segawa

DONT DRIVE or GO HOME

People who move here from other countries shouldn't be able to obtain a drivers license along with people over the age of 80. Realistically you really dont need to be driving if your over 80. C'mon they have special buses for the elderly that they wont let my drunk ass on, why cant they just use those. i mean its fuckin free for gods sake.
The reason for my hatred towards these drivers is that yesternoon, while i was running errands for my job, i got caught up numerous times with people suffering from driving retardation. My first was at a left-hand turn signal. and this lady had the worst of both worlds....(note: i am not racist in any way) she was from the middle east( this was obvious) and she had to be at least 75. So one light goes by and she doesnt move. this was ok at the time because i was getting paid to run errands. but then she let another green light go by without even noticing it. this is when it started. considering the horn on my car does not work i feel its necessary to yell instead. So as my adreneline starts to build and this lady think everything is just fine, i freak out. tempted to get out of the car and show her that Osama wasnt coming to save her, i resisted, and settled with just going around her. as i passed by it looked as if her fucking turban had blocked the only skin she had showing which was her beady lil eyes and the red dot to let her husband know the coffee's done. whatever i blew it off and tried to get on with my errands.

Until once again a lil old asain lady who looked identical to an Ewok was driving 20 mph on a street where people usually exceed 50mph with grace. but no she had to be right in front of me, and there was nothing to do about it since there were sooo many cars behind me switching lanes to finally liberate themselves from this evil geisha. so again i fiinally get the chance to pass her when i cant help but notice that she cant even see over the god damn steering wheel. She is looking in between the top of the steering wheel and the horn. WHO FUCKING GIVES A LADY LIKE THAT HER LICENSE? is what I want to know.... isnt that just an accident waiting to happen? FUCK.

I mean normally these people would have made my day yesterday cause it would have taken up my whole 8 hour day, but i had shit that i still had to do. So this was no on-the-clock joy-ride let me tell you. I felt like i was gone for 3 hours yet only an hour and a half had passed. and Again im not a racist, nor shall i ever be one.



j.segawa

go dodgers, but fuck dodgerdogs

This past sunday i attended what i thought was the best dodger game i have ever been to. Jess was up from San Diego and she took me to the game. As usual we do a little pre-gamin at my house and head off to the game so we dont have to sit in los angeles' trademark traffic jams. But we do anyway.

Get to the game and our seats are AMAZING!! 4th row, behind home-plate, 95 degrees outside. A perfect day for a ball game persay. Meeting the standard requirements of a Dodger game i had to get atleast 1 dodger dog and a beer right? aw fuck it, i got 2 dodger dogs, a beer, and some peanuts.........to start things off. Dodger dogs were great, Beer was frosty cold even in the 95degree sweatshop, and the peanuts have never tasted sooo good!

Not too much scoring throughout the game 1-1, until our patron of the south bay, Nomar Garciaparra, makes it the best dodger game i have ever attended....

Bottom of the ninth.....bases loaded.....score tied @1...First pitch.............ball.............next pitch........it's going....it's going......it's GONE.......Nomar has just hit a walk-off Grand Slam to win the game!!!!!!!

I have never expierenced a walk-off home run to win a game before, let alone a grand slam, well besides watching the Kurt Gibson homer replayed three thousand times on ESPN. It was insanely out of control. People were cheering 10 minutes after and continued yelling as they violently rushed to their "coches"! It was truely a site to see!

So i get home and everything is still fine until about 2AM.... ya all downhill from there.

It feels like someone is stabbing my lower abdimon with a dull ice-pick. Stomach pains i have never felt before bombarded me like kamakazi fighters into the barracks. Then it really started, well lets just say it was coming oout of both ends of the spectrum.... at a fierce, rapid fire to say the least. constantly switching from praying the porcelin gods to destroying them i was soo dumbfounded by the situation i just wept in pain. cause really it doesnt feel good when everything tries to escape your body at once. trust me.


went to the doctor and he told me i probably shouldnt eat dodger dogs anymore, but i told him to try going to a ball game and not getting one, was he fucking crazy?? he felt my pain and laughed it off.

so next dodger game: only eat 1 dodger dog( and maybe dont put the funky relish on) and have 2 beers instead of 1 ey?

1st game of the year

It all starts at my place the night before the game....
Beer Pong is in effect. Bongs of both beer and pot get passed around. Vodka and Red Bull show up earlier than expected, just to take the night in that direction at anytime is dangerous, but when they show up at 7, you know shit's bout to hit the fan! After killing every drop of man-juice in the house it's time to go out. So after polishing off the last bit of Smirnoff straight from the bottle, We chant like the pirates we all want to be as we head to the local bar, Shellback, to only find the whole fucking bar filled with these over-all wearing, tobacco chewing,"Go Big Red" fans that are obviously in the wrong place.

Seeing we were out-numbered at least 3-1, actually took the safe way out and headed across the street to MB Pizzaria. Should have done thhat in the first place since pitchers are only $5. After our first couple pitchers we rake in some fresh meat. couldnt really tell how young they were, but it didnt really matter at the time anyway since my wingman seemed to already have a stellar lazy-eye forming. so i must have looked like quasimodo. lil girls left so we headed to th next bar.

Saw a bunch of the boys at Henessey's and got some more drinks. After a few slurred toasts and a few more shots we spot more hill-billy cornhuskers. shit has hit the fan!!! We start turning tables over in the bar doing god-knows-what and the waitress immidiately comes over to tell us to settle down. Being fully blacked-out by this time, i make a witty comment,"Isnt thisa fucking bar, watdyu mean ssssettle down???" yea got kicked out or that one. but made some good insults at the Nebraska fans before they got me out!!
so i walked home, tried to run but fell, so i walked again.

Woke up bright annd early Saturday morning awaiting the tail-gating i have yet to experience this year! Got some beers, but held off until my boys got over. Soon as they got there around 11 last night came back in full effect. Next thing you know we're walking in downtown LA, homeless people bumming smokes off me, and i was giving them out like i was Phillin fucking Morris. only to get to tail-gating and let me tell you it was no ordinary tail-gate. instead of burgers and dogs they serve steaks and fish. instead of chips and dip, its pasta salad and formage(cheese). it was the fuckin Ritz of tail-gating! and i was loving it, every bit of it! soo we slam our beers and head to campus to drink more. after drinkin for awhile and yelling obscene things at pretty muchy everyone that walked by, we walked back to the stadium cause it was game time! we kicked the poles for good luck, i kicked it soooo hard the odor from my feet seeped through the cracks of my shoes to blind-side me, i almost hit the floor, it Was thhat bad. gott in the stadium and from the looks of it, it couldve been a fuckin food convention. and being me, i treated it as it was a food convention, tasting everything they had: nachos, peanuts, polish sausages, i even got a lemonade.

we won the game! like i couldnt tell you that before it even started.

so being the people we are, we shamelessly harrass all these nebraska fans on our way back to the car. kicking port-o-potties, yelling at the ESPN newscasters, just classic shit.

this was the fiirst of many tail-gates this year. hopefully we can round up some more troops and get rowdy next home game.

Well that's me in a flat in Rome. Good Times!!!

As I find more and more of my acquiantinces starting blogs, i feel that i achieve just as many memorable drunken nights as the rest you jerks. So what the hell? might as well share them and maybe, just maybe i might get some better stories in return. Since i sit in front of the idiot machine (computer) for at least 5 hours a day, i thought i could throw some knowledge into things other than myspace or tuckermax(the main reason i started to blog; the guy is fucking amazing)