Pork Lodge & Pouches

Dear Blog!
Just now driving home to Echo Park from Canter's Kibitz Room, where I was politely blown-off, I misread the street sign, Park View as Pork View. I wish it was Pork View Street. For some reason, when I'm in my 6-hour Sim sessions, where we speak gibberish, I am compelled to often say Pork Lodge. As in, "Sneeb norbula flidge la Pork Lodge?" And then Jack, my Sim partner in crime, will give me that look, over the microphones, like," You are totally ridiculous - you said Pork lodge AGAIN!" Or when I mistakenly say vaj or waj, which also happens frequently, as in, "Wib globbet, sneej flam worbley vaj?" Jack gives me the same look. It's endearingly amused.
Speaking of the Sims, there were tour groups flocking the EA campus monday. Scores of youthful video-game mavens, taking pictures of things like the EA cafeteria. Granted, it's a nice dining space, but it seems that one's video-game obsession has been taken a bit far, if looking at photos of a cafeteria thrills one.
So I was kindly blown-off of my now-formerly weekly gigs at Canter's deli. 3 weeks ago I was asked to take 3 weeks off. An odd amount of time. I myspace messaged the booking guy, who's very nice, an Echo Park neighbor and a trained opera singer. He never got back to me. So me and my big Annie-rejected balls, got all dolled up tonight, practiced a UkuLady set, which included Rainbow Connection, Facts of Life and Silver Spoons, and showed up at the Kibitz Room anyway. I have a show next week, but I think I'm being kindly phased out. Bummer, as I made up 1000 postcards touting the weekly tuesday shows. I said fuck too much, and was asked to say bleep or friggin instead and my political songs were also censored. A whole lot of censoring for a small lady with a ukulele. I'm edgy! Or I have superior diction, compared to the rock bands that must say fuck or else they're not rock.
Love The UkuLady
PS: I have adult-onset acne! I never had pimples as a teen and since moving to the environmental disaster of LA, I am like a prepubescent tweenager who works amongst frenchfry fryers! Ok, I'm being a tad overdramatic, but I'm being forced by the hand of Narcissim to learn a new beauty evening regime in my old age, so's to remain Askable-For-ID-At-The-Bar.
PPS: I stole a washcloth from the Sofitel Hotel to aid my beauty regime in Echo Park.
PPPS: It's a pouch washcloth and Pouch is one of the Best Words Ever.