United Airlines. Or more like paranoid strip search every poor bastard who boards and confiscate tweezers just in case they threat to pluck the pilots monobrow or something.

I never thought that I would say it, but the food on Qantas was better. I got stuck at the as end of the plane, we are talking thevery last seat, so far back that you can't even recline the fucker. Sleeping in this thing would belike sleeping in an electric chair I imagine. There is of course only once solution... Sleepers.

I was fortunate enough to have as my airbourne single serve friend a lovely nurse from LA. I informerd her of my travelling intentions - pill (maybe 2) and unconsciousness. I politely enquired as to the symptoms of deep vein thrombosis, she offered to move my legs and arms should i suddenlystart violently swelling. I felt much better after that.

I started watching mean girls on the far far away projector (Qantas you win here too with your in flight min tv's!) but was soon taken far far away to clonazeland. I remember the airport. I did ask my flying friend fiona if she could email me some time in the future how I performed in the state of clonazy auto pilot. I still had my shoes which is always a good sign.

There is no luggage storage facility anymore at LA. Bastards. So I had to call some overly exuberantly happy dude called elmo, who cheerfull took my big bags a away, gave me a small piece of paper and said seeya. I hope it returns.

Bussed to Venice Beach. A black dude on the bus seeing I had no change let me on for free. I asked him are you sure. His answer is life advice quality "Never ask a man if he's sure" Im hearing you brother.

So kicking in LA, catching up with my main man Leo, and hanging with a crazy posse of LA dudes. Its all long legs, boob jobs, some crazy groovers and the odd dude talking about how he "popped some cap in some dudes ass" which made me feel a little out ofmy league. I didnt think hitting someone with a peashooter in early primary scholl lent me the required level of toughness. A great night out, movie star style.

Recovered, and did the fitness run along Venice beach thing. Before making the bodybuilders pilgrimmage to Golds Gym. The mecca of bodybuilding. I paid and went in it was huge, everyone in it was huge. The smallest weights there were huge. I felt very very puny.

But I worked out anyways, little weedy Aussie boy pumping iron with the big boys. The definite highlight, shoulder pressing some meagre weight, and I hear a voice behind me.."You finished here" I turn around and see The Rock (Of Scorpion King fame) Sure I reply, and move while he proceeds to shoulder press a couple of small third world countries.

:D