If you somehow leave your cell phone in the lobby of a hotel, and then travel to your home in another state, the hotel will CHARGE YOU the FedEx costs to send you your phone. The pig fuckers.

Other than that, we had fun in CA. Sacramento was a furnace, as always, and when I went out on the balcony of my father's condo in the evening I first had to take precautions against West Nile that would make alien first contact seem like French kissing. San Francisco saw us watching the Giants win, getting pleasantly sunburnt, taking mad taxi rides across and back to the Pacific side for dinner at the Cliff House restaurant, which yea do verily sit on a cliff, then ending the evening topping up on books at City Lights. Which has a section dedicated to the writings of that fucking white man, Ward Churchill. Plus the other assorted nonsenses, but hey I once wrote to Larry Ferlinghetti and he wrote me back, said letter now residing inside my copy of Coney Island of the Mind.