Maybe I’ll fit in a visit to San Diego while I’m in the neighborhood.

I’m in a bit of a hurry this morning because as you’re reading this I’m cramming into some piece of shit plane surrounded by assholes with some hellish strain of the flu that will keep me from enjoying Mastro’s. I’m heading out for a few days of meetings and general spa-ing in Scottsdale after which I head to LA for a few days. Fucking LA. Usually when I go there I immediately begin to suffer from Alvy Singer syndrome. But I have to go there, because that’s where my brother lives, along with plenty of other family and friends. I’m operating under the assumption that they all moved out there to piss me off. Seriously, fuck that place.

Except for Applepan. Applepan makes it all worthwhile.

Oh and the shoe stores!

Oh and the crazy hot bitches I get to stare at while the woman looks on in appreciation of my fine taste!

Hmmm. If I get to meet Sarah Silverman I might just have to cancel my plans to blow everything between Pasadena and Long Beach into the Pacific.

Anyway, ON TO THE PICKS!
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