I like to write. This is part of my collection of recollections that I call “Outside Of Los Angeles”. Enjoy.

A coyote was standing at the corner of Franklin and Kingsley just watching traffic this morning. I was leaving Jumbo’s after picking up rent and saw the coyote taking it all in. Made sense, Griffith Park is only two blocks north and it was trash day, all the cans were lining the street and overflowing with free lunch. Kind of bigger than the average Los Angeles coyote. This guy looked like he was a solid fifty pounds. Most of the time they’re all skin and bones and they look miserable. This guy was a real badass, didn’t look like he had a care in the world. A couple Assholes hit the horn as they passed him by to try and spook him but he didn’t budge. You could tell he was just thinking ‘Fuck you, this is my turf. I do what I want when I want.” Maybe my next tattoo will be a coyote? I’ll talk to Kennedy next week when I get back to Jumbo’s, I like her tattoos so I’ll find out who her artist is. Kennedy has a pretty big chest piece of a busted skull between her tits with octopus tentacles spilling out every which way circling her nipples and going over her shoulders. Whoever did that piece did one hell of a job. Jumbo’s used to be one of my favorite pickup spots, I was making time with one of the dancers. Never spent the night at her place, she had a rule that I had to be out be two a.m. That was twenty years ago. Guy at the zoo told me that a coyote’s lifespan in the wild is about eight years, in captivity they might make it to sixteen. Yeah, I’ll get that coyote tattooed on my chest and let that badass live forever.

Outside Of Los Angeles