The ramblings of Luke Allen, an increasingly unhinged Los Angeles resident who spends an unhealthy amount of time in LA traffic. These are his social observations, rants, complaints, movie reviews, and weekly life wrap ups. From upstate NY. Angry.
I think I’m finally all better! (Maybe? I don’t know. At least my cough is gone! For now!) (Nervous laughter) No one plays “lovably sleazy” like Paul Giamatti. Exciting things coming up (I didn’t know how else to articulate this segment) Unfortunately for you, I found out today was the 30 year anniversary of seeing Korn for the first time. “Mecca of bodybuilding?” More like WRECK-A of bodybuilding. A prolific, ...
July 5th, Chipotle AND Cava incompetence (there’s not a single chicken-slinger in LA you can rely on…), stand up comedy revelations, and I went to see Love & Mercy at the Aero, a motion picture I take quite a fancy to. I also somewhat capriciously yet not wholly unsubstantially compare the Beach Boys to Dillinger Escape Plan.
405, for another 4 to 5. The gas company bandit. Michael Madsen mad me sads, son. The smog mafia. I regale you with my city wide and county-hopping gallivanting on the 4th of July. I mean, move over Robinson Crusoe; there’s a NEW adventurer on the loose!
A prescient prediction about 28 Years Later. Big news on the Starbucks brownie front. My old acting teacher died. (Shockingly, not “of embarrassment” from watching me) Big news on the screenplay front. Bokes & I went to see Harley Flanagan from Cro Mag’s new documentary, “Wired For Chaos.” I went to see Mark. Normand at the Comedy Store, and I did a little stand up m’self for the first time…in fuckin yeaz.
Ol “lilly lungs” Lukie is back, celebrating one month and one week of having this cold! Yay! 405 Chaos. Another invention I could/should invent, but won’t. Jeff Dye & Fiends at the Comedy Store. Among the many other natural attributes I’ve been blessed with, I’ve also come to realize I’m “I’ll be right with you” guy. 28 Jeers Later, and O Brother Where Art Thou. (Seriously, where art thou?)
Why do so many businesses in LA go out of business, only to have the exact same kind of business take over in the same exact spot the last business failed? Sex in the middle ages. Spaceballs 2. “Mobland” (nice fuckin name, as usual…)
I’m still fucking sick, and consume about 17 cough drops throughout this episode. The Los Angeles Insurrection, and my growing and almost unquantifiable contempt for this place and the people in charge of it. A couple more things about Harley Flanagan and the Cro Mags (sorry) I try to get you to appreciate the movie “Green Book,” and I went to see The Proposition with the director and cast there live. (Sort of)...
This episode came to you by storm. (I’m strug-a-leeng with a cold on this one, so bare with me) Harley Flan..again? Two big observations I forgot to mention about god awful Mission Impossible 8 last episode. The Hottie And The Nottie, 1923, Landman, and "we need to talk about Jon Hamm."
“Real Men,” and the Jim Belushi conundrum. If you can believe this, there’s actually a handful of decent-sounding original movies on the horizon! Good news for my stuff. (Well, “potentially,” as always) I may have gotten fired, again. A lengthy (as usual) Mission Impossible 8 review.
I’m back. Maybe. The sad truth about the animal crossing bridge on the 101. Starbucks probably got rid of their brownie, because it was my favorite treat from there, and anything that I like in this life will be systematically taken away from. (Like TGI Fridays) The two-cookie conundrum. Restaurant workers that don’t put utensils in their Doordash orders should literally be dragged to hell. I put up 265, no swe...
I went to the opening of David Mamet’s new movie “Henry Johnson” the same day James Foley died, who directed the movie version of Mamet’s most famous work, and I was in nerd utopia. I also went to see the Accountant 2 (“tWoOo?!”) so that you don’t have to. Thank you for your ears, throughout the years. <3
Five double o! I recount the colorful history of this here podcast. A fellow traveler in Los Angeles car wash-dom. The Studio, and the tragedy of Seth Rogan. The trouble with Instagram titties. I’m finding the rhythms for my rebound girl, the LA Fitness on Coldwater and Victory. The trouble with Jon Hamm, and Apple TV shows round up. (Who made the cut? Who didn’t? HOW EXCITING IS THIS)
Pee jug. One less jerk at work. Hittin pavement for puss. Another show I won’t go. Pizza extortion and casting exasperations. Thunderbolts, that new Marvel movie. “The best one since End Game!”
White Men Can’t Jump was the pinnacle of positive black/white relations in the United States. Fuck Robert Rodriguez and his can-do attitude. I spent the afternoon with a BIG MOVIE STAR, and got 3rddegree burns on my tongue from a fish taco. (Possibly)
We need a reverse middle finger. For Christ’s sakes. The Last Of Them. The Rockford Files. Warfare. Sinners. Assault & Slattery.
I flew back to Buffalo for my & my nephew’s birthday.
Still on the rebound after having my heart broken. (By the LA Fitness closing at Coldwater and Chandler) You basically need the shields from the Tim Burton Batman Batmobile in LA if you want your car to not be destroyed, broken into, vandalized, etc. I definitely go to Chipotle too much. I messed around with AI images and it blew my feeble mind. Mr Penis Powers came to town, and lead to a plethora of gallivanti...
Snow White? More like “s’no successful MOVIE!” I tell you about a bunch of movies in the pipeline; some good, some bad. (Mostly bad) I went to see Refused at the historic Shrine Auditorium, and also took a gander at the house that Bugsy got his eyeball blown out in. I had a myriad of thoughts about both.
I don’t care if I have to walk over a desert of thumbtacks to get where I’m going, I cannot handle being a passenger in other people’s cars anymore. A workout in Tijuana. A plethora of fast food incompetence. (It’s spreading) A night of metal at the Viper Room. The banana thief. The Coalesce conundrum.
Id like to “excise” the asshole that came up with the “excise tax” from planet earth. I’m so tired of arbitrary and ever-growing surcharges for almost everything conceivable. Stop casting Michael Fassbender as an urbane spy and/or hitman. I’ve had it with “Grandma-la Anderson;” PUT SOME MAKE UP ON, YOU FUCK. The stranded astronauts came back to earth, but there’s more to this story than we really got. No one ca...
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