If anyone wants to know what goes down at an
LAist BBQ, this is pretty much it. Yes that’s me deepthroating a bacon-wrapped hotdog while sweating like a greased hog since it was 400 degrees outside. It didn’t help that earlier I climbed the
Baxter staircase for a piece I was supposed to write months ago but couldn’t because of my sciatica.
And why is it that I’ve been obsessed with Skinny Puppy and Otis Redding the past couple of weeks?
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