The iPigeon cool public mobile charging spots of greater and Metro Los Angeles, California, USA.

From jay.ammon@iPigeon.institute's Google My Maps custom map compilations:

Web link: cool iPigeon free public charging spots of Metro and greater Los Angeles

Wouldn’t it be cool, if it was like Christmastime all year-round, in terms of being capable of plugging in, while venturing around Los Angeles, CA? In some spots, that is the case. Here in this blog, I’m seeking to cover these public and outdoor electricity plug-in offerings, as I set out in reclaiming my life by enjoying more of life on my mobile devices, free from the constraints and hard times that I encounter as a housed person. 

There’s room for a few more people to set out and enjoy these types of endowments for the public; it’s a great way to clear the mind, establish a more objective basis in life, and to enjoy and appreciate what greater Los Angeles has to offer its residents.

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Check out the Google Web App implementation of what was | is the legacy Play Store App known as My Maps, which is also similarly covered in Google Local Guides local lists, yet I'm not quite sure that the latest Google Maps platform is the way in which this information might reach the requisite user base. It's a bit of a token wish-list of undefinable coding cloud compute parameters, of "stuff that" ... well, hopefully, over time, there'll be a well-enough word-of-mouth or a cloud compute user token trigger established; something along those lines. I am the guy working at it, with well-enough intentions. I must say that I don't personally know the person who would offer better, with no strings attached, for the sake of the particularly slighted acute personal crisis breakout demographic, of perhaps having been discriminated against, bullied, or inappropriately targeted, or unwell amongst crowds, or "something neurotic," I suppose. 

The web app implementation interface covers only two locations off of the Gold Line, yet I'll be covering leads at seasonal homeless shelters, acquiring information, and re-establishing the autonomy of the well-connected subsidized phone subscriber persona | identity - the one who had not traded the phone outright for money for personal [essential] or questionable needs, although I have been that desperate myself, at times, I must say. That's a whole other non-issue to have become needful in being established, perhaps, if I'm to take in inventory about everything that passes through my I/O periphery, of as much of the day as I could make of it, whereas sometimes I just don't understand that people are doing this n' that... I had no idea... Pretty cool, ... cool stuff. 

Alright. That's the latest; I'll keep this as one of the centric hub links for establishing various persona marketing potential mates or marketable lifestyles of tech of the enterprising homelessness "thing," of the overarching slake of how life happens to be, not only for myself, but largely because I don't quite understand some things that are told to me, despite appearances of accommodation, otherwise, which would typically leverage over in to the "notably strange" sorts of happenstance resonance tech-advanced-lifestyle blogging and research aspirations, device-mobile, people stealing my devices, sort of thing, and it's pretty confusing, or it's a Buddha's attainment of some 40% American demographic of affinity, a couple | several years ago, according to Pew Research Foundation, of which I'll pull up the link, just momentarily. 

Okay. I had discovered the publication article, in question, on Facebook, memorably, and the date, at that time, was perhaps no later than 2013. This article, which was preceded by much well-received facets of popular culture burgeoned by a rapid expanse of the interest in personal and home luxury, as well as in essential oils and organics boom culture, of that Whole Foods had been touted as the largest grocer in America, with it's affinity and branding model basis in finery and artisan food, health, beauty, nutrition, and sustainability, not to mention animal rights and wellness facets of their corporate model. 

Yoga pants - the ass-blogging photoblog site offshoots of People of Wal-mart « pre-ish » meme-official entity rights establishment, of that "we" or many of us, of a suitably unprofessional non-development culture had slade'd through youthful adulthood now, and then now was going on, like, all the time. At times, believably, we had had chosen those sorts of media outlets, they were "poppin' pussy" popular, and then, perhaps, sick fascination with the grotesque led to real-trauma medical photography-type stuff, and now | then, people simply block out negative experiences, and prefer that better things would befall them, unsuitably professionally so, of an irony, somewhat suggestive of a Freudian child-life "style" « something, » perhaps. Some people would know, and I've gotten some off-basis "Jewish flack" connotations lobbed at me, quite notably so, of an abnormal psychology establishment, of some other establishment which had got turned to confessionals, etc. "stuff." Which I do, personally, just because it's compellingly (well, okay), I have to admit, I was raised quite mostly appropriately. 

The stories of others have yet to establish a contextual text-literacy basis of caring enough to twiddle fingers in to words, such as garbage blog basis that commonly comes to pass, yet somewhat as well, somewhat not quite - if it just didn't, and such n' such, Jewish thing? I didn't really have any idea about it, still somewhat unclear, on my end. Maybe it's not even me, not even knowing about it, but I definitely didn't know about, personally. That's how secretive some of these abnormal psychologies developed, in such commonly textbook suitable nurturing environments. 

I wouldbt, though, and I just didn't. Stuff. Garbage, though, I can get by on garbage, well enough. This isn't really that type of blog, though, but it is open public forum for perusal, as a minimum. I do maintain that I establish as linearly cohesive and development models of breakouts in intelligence formatting, and it tends to nothing, really, ... but non-content stuff sometimes slips the fweef, of supposing I'd just fweef and hang out with people like that. 

"Who wouldn't?" 

On one hand. 

Although - I do get tested for memory role-modeling, and for bash shell-scripting Unix commands, for unpacking and deployment of completely suitable admin resources and libs, if necessary, simply... sometimes just imaginably so. But for the factuality of that it doesn't get done on my end, it also tends to somehow become a problem of other other people, of irrelevant issues, according to the strengths I could be using. All garbage, to speak of. But garbage, I run on, and I find it pretty suitable, in fact. Most typically. 

I dunno, ... what other people do. I like good-looking people, though. Other people, this n' that, yip-yappin', and through speaking on these subjects, I somewhat refrain from caring well-enough for myself. I end up a bum. People assume it's a bum, off hand. It's doing some persona marketing thing of a critter sweater, most currently-status-bum. Searchable bum? Bum-searchable, latest thing, though. I could ... check on the checkin' status of "just maybe" stuff, but if it wasn't suitable for even garbage bum blogging regalia dissemination, it most commonly got a fix up of some attention to it, ... Something like that. Stuff just wasn't getting done, quite properly well enough, on my end, as what the issue ended up being.

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Alright. A guy came up and started talking to me. He's pretty normal. He gave me a Men's Fitness magazine. Pretty cool stuff. I have to admit, though, that the oppositional | avoidant characteristics of glossing over some of the identities behind what ended up being garbage blogging, back there, a bit, significantly threw me off, about something that was a topic to blog about. 

Okay. It was the same blog, somehow. The My Maps blog. 

Update to the "Normal Guy" thing.

Update: June 28th, 2022: Flintridge | Foothill Gelson’s Market

The neat-o iPigeon.institute homemade instrument of the day (updating).

As an aspiring mobile device-driven music box designer, from various standpoints of development: nature’s form of the instrument (whistles, clicks, pops, bird sounds, and resonant bodies of materials, such as metal, wood, etc.), digital design of the emulated instrument (physical modeling, synthesized sounds, audio recordings, key mappings, and transpositions), as well as the delivery of the app, in a usable form, of some standard such as MIDI, 

I have, on one hand, a lot of free space to work with, given that any individual component would reasonably simulate some sort of more complex mechanical form and instrument structure, for example, my first novelty device:

The Can Drum Bellows Clicks-Flourisher - runs on tar!

Long-time readers of mine know that I’m big in to tar. What a fortunate discovery, to have happened upon this hand-crafted (post-manufacture and consumer use of this recyclable product - an aluminum can) bellows device - a sequential flourish-clicker, if you will, with features of a miniature steel drum; on one hand, percussive, as the form of the instrument was crafted by my own musician’s take on suitable design, for a makeshift tobacco pipe, whereas - as a pipe, for that matter, the instrument is played with the breath. It goes well, with a popping sound, perhaps, as a flourish moment, in a musical idea, whereas the tar, from smoking the aluminum can pipe, with tobacco; then smeared (the tar) across the numerous holes in the can’s smoking bowl section, whereby the can, suitably designed, mind you, would blow out, with a bellows thrust and force design concept, in mind, with both flutish and percussive effects being achieved, in one simple blow. 

It’s a simple thing to construct, yet it takes a musician’s skill and finesse, along with some entrained tonal fine-motor muscle tuning, which goes in to the crushing of the can - perhaps even a newcomer could construct the panels of the body of the instrument well enough; it’s just that this is particularly a musical instrument consideration. The holes are poked through, slightly, with a safety pin, or needle, perhaps, and the blowing happens through the drinking mouthpiece, otherwise, visually, the “top” of the can. 

Try it for yourself! It’s really a cute instrument to pull off, to wow your friends, compatriots, and passersby, alike. Try it with a squeeze pop!

Hear the individual sounds of the instrument, freshly capped with tar, from tobacco!

My latest (February) 2023 art release(s) - 🏝️ Tropical effect! (Updating)

 

What a great effect, right? It’s a 2-part composite image, essentially, with an Adobe Photoshop Kaleidoscope effect (I think), with a white background ink brush illustration with glitch effect, as a separate top layer, with luminosity layer effect applied, in Adobe Illustrator, and then I played around with the opacity, a bit, and maybe some work with Vectorization of the top layer, to achieve layer and vector-bits independence, from the underlying kaleidoscope (or Collider, maybe) background layer. 

It’s got the same glitchy effect that we all know and love, from recent years’ popularization, on mobile devices, and in marketing imagery, as well as pop culture uses of the glitch effect, such as in effect-sy music videos. 

Here’s Adobe’s informational and instructional page on the various ways to make the Glitch effect happen. 

I call it “Tropical,” I guess, if I had to name it, and it’s got all the features of glitch (color aberration version) about it, with the color palette blown out, in full glory, and some organic variety, given the collider / kaleidoscope background. Here’s the background image I used, in case you don’t have access to Adobe Photoshop on a Desktop or Laptop computer, and you want to recreate this effect. You will need (I think) Adobe Illustrator, in some form - I made this happen on an iPad Pro (2022 model). 

 

 

How to rig a bum cart for success

Doing a bum cart life gig is a palpable common bum identity commonly flaunted in a metropolitan district such as DTLA (downtown Los Angeles, CA, USA). The benefits of doing bum cart life are manifold over other types of transitive bum personae such as the bicycling bum and the bag'ged bum, « on foot. »

This one is bum life at it's most flaunch; stylistically. A bum cart with all the trimmings - a unicorn cosplay costume head sticking out - to denote the playfulness and good humor of the bum's identity,

Along with needful trimmings, such as site-detoxification utilities, sweetened powdered milk jug for bread-feeding the pigeons, luxuriant toiletries from various boutique retailers of finery Los Angeles and beyond, hand sanitizer (useful in a post COVID-19 outbreak world), and a daily usage recyclables collecting bag, up top.

Many various-use bags can be tied alongside the ridges of the handles and top of the cart, for sorting the daily necessities of bum life. 

One thing to make sure of, though, is that you don't overload the bum personal tote cart too jaunted - the cart could potentially break down, at the axles, particularly going down a curb. 

Update: Sunday, August 14th, 2022:

I’ve discerned, lately, that a fair-enough degree of bum-looking-ness, for a cart, will earn a person “not” having their bum cart stolen, in downtown LA, while sleeping in certain areas, or, for leaving it outside of Ralph’s, while grocery shopping, at least, during certain hours, or days of the week, while out shopping. I’d stayed out, for the entire week, and thankfully, food stamps had come in, earlier today, so I went to the grocery store. 

Update: Thursday, September 8th, 6:56 a.m. - new incarnations on of bum cart aspirations - now, with a dolly. 

I’d tried out tote carting a whole plenty much, and the things always break, after several weeks, or less. For me, it’s tough on my budget, to try and replace these sorts of things, so I was fortunate to come across this sturdy-looking dolly | hand truck rendition of the similar notion; the bum tote cart. 

With this version, I’m capable of having a compact form, for the cart’s travel time, and I can fit it in to my food-carrying backpack (also pictured, since the cart can fold flat. All convenient features of this combo. I’m going to add some new noiseless wheels, so I can go about my tree-watering work by night, hauling jugs of water, and watering the trees; that’s my plan for this backpacking lifestyle aspiration. I can’t wait to try it out!

A pigeon platform for the L.A. mayoral race in 2022.

 Original publishing date: 03/08/2022 (updating).

Theme: humor, satire, community voices

I don’t know about you, out there, but I can’t get enough of the news about Los Angeles. 

Staying informed, when it comes to local topics, here in Los Angeles, (at least, for myself) ignites the imagination. Sometimes I believe what I see on the news, and then, on one hand, I feel like I get a taste of a seedy side of investigative journalism. That’s a whole different topic, though, in and of itself. I’m more interested in chiming in on this year’s mayor’s office bid, which is reportedly a hotly contested position (supposedly <_<)… whereas I feel that I get a unique opportunity afforded to me, for being the [un]official DTLA pigeon flocks’ feeder, going on about 5 years, at this point. 

Look at how far we’d come.

Back when I started feeding pigeons, I was a homeless transient, loosely centered around various localities. I recollect that there were “No feeding the birds” signs up, here and there. Upon becoming informed, through looking the subject up, online, I found that it was a civic decency issue, of the birds potentially occupying too much pedestrian-centric sidewalk real estate, whereas there was not quite an orderly and dedicated care regimen for the birds, and their diet (and defecation) was a less (or not at all) managed issue. Regardless, the birds have been here, all along. They exist in every big city, in America, I’d largely suppose, and it’s known that pigeon fancying, bird feeding, and avian sport plays in to some of our deepest recollections on a theme of Americana, and even at that, pigeon care exists as a hobby, the world around - as can be discerned, from Facebook groups, for example. 

What do pigeons have to do with the mayoral race? 

On one hand, not a whole lot. Yet, if we take a more critical approach, looking intently, in to the semiotics and symbolism of what this departure of our long-standing current mayoral figure, Eric Garcetti, implies, it is a timely and serendipitous existential crisis, as for my own take on things, with President Biden’s bid and beck and call for our city’s leader to take on the task of ambassadorship to the nation of India, which, for me, as a mental health client and patient who is served by the County and City of Los Angeles, strikes a personal note; I won’t delve in to further details - discussing mental health and psychiatric issues, without regard for privacy is one of the formative tenets that would constitute a violation of ethics in the profession. Far be it, for me, to make waves in a professional licensure-based occupation, even whereas I have interest in the field, personally; I’m just a hard-liner for that “rules are the rules,” and I can’t breach terms on this Golden Rule tenet feature of the profession, it’s just too controversial. 

Yet, as insightful insiders could come to consider, having taken in this shallow context, and with me, having some informal political notoriety, I take my jibs and jabs, as a mock-up slight take on a public figure, being the pigeon-feeder, as my surface-level persona, as well as a figurative stage for giving voice and life energy to some seeded causes and purpose, in the context of pigeon feeding, and what it means, in a deeper, more considerate sense, in the hearts and minds of the people. On one hand, I’ve won a fair closely-held and dear position, in this by-line, of civic aptitude; at least - in the hearts and minds of the birds. They’ve been shown that they would commonly be seen to reject food that had been thrown out, for them, and rather, they wait, faithfully, for my arrival, largely because I make sure to feed them fresh food, but also on account of that they’d come to know me, for who I am, and for what I look like. It’s truly a heartwarming basis that I’ve established here, and with cameras watching, as my witness, I can attest to that much, about the primacy and virtue of the will and volition to keep the birds fed, in the civic center localities. 

On one hand, it’s a humble blessing, being a figure who is fraught with voices in my head: various personas, identities, and figures from my past, perhaps; and as well - a futuristic side-chained intelligence feed, of variable worth, as far as trust and actionable deeds to come about, if I were to entertain some of these intermittent intrusions, of the mind. Why this sort of thing happens? It’s as variable as people’s dedications are, towards some cause wrought out of my sentiment, and critique, on a subject, whereas some people just don’t like me, and they use dirty politics to edge a means and purpose in, on the dialectical, and the passing of time; the words, the deeds, and the dirt that comes about, being that we were battered creatures, of a common collective sort, some of us - me being amongst them, with some skeletons in my closet, whereas I’ve outlived, and corrected those dark side features about myself, as best that I could, whereas I struggle still, with the jokes, which catch my attention and breach my shortcomings’ threshold of exclusivity, in discernment - although this trait is not uncommon amongst several of my peers; these injured birds, so to speak, that we are, out of the flock of the rest of the population at large. 

I feel that many of these people, similarly afflicted, simply don’t see the part of Downtown LA that I do - having come to [some] familiar faces, on a daily basis (such as the grocery store employees), and, for that matter, I’ve come to find that adult relationships, in particular, for someone such as myself, are hard-won, and few and far between. People are highly industrious, seeking peak-intelligence, measured extents of adventuring in to the ego, and subject to ridicule, quite easily, from entertaining an improper slight - par inelegance, of the mind, even, yet many an occasion occurs, in which a person’s loose tongue will do them in - to ineffable and inalienable consequence - it’s dirty: downtown… and it’s “whose” job to clean it up? My contribution, be it what it may be, in my own mind, and in the eyes and opinions of people who witness it, and might care about the topic, for any sort of basis to come of it, and I have my blogs and social media to attest to any challenge, per se, and I feel that I’m validated in as much, given that I receive healthy and long-standing support, to a variable, yet redeemable pace and degree of observance, that I’ve come to recognize, being that I keep track of my analytics, stats, and hit counts, for example (or, the apps do it for me, that is). 

That being said, in my wildest imaginations, bearing down, somewhat, upon this notion that I, as well as some others, amongst me, friend or foe, are still nascent identities to become our own; to live down our closeted skeletons, shake off these dusty old portrayals of self, and somehow, aspire, and achieve, in fitting in, or of finding a niche, and for seeking that end in life which truly makes us happy - all while balancing so much adventure and leisure, being that we reside in the city of Los Angeles, and for that there is so much to distract us… 

Can’t you guys find some way to wisen up, like the older folks do?

Yesterday, some guy said my name, after I passed him by, and then I turned and looked, and he called me a psychopath. Ha. I was already scurred by that time, for imagining that stuff that seemed odd, out and about, could somehow pertain to my lonesome, and then, some guy says my name, and calls me a psychopath. He was an older gent, for that matter, though, and there was a touch of familiarity, perhaps, about it, and perhaps it was a gesture of graciousness upon me. I’ll have to revisit this route that I took, while making my way home. I had done that, for that matter, on this instance. But how could the people so commonly identify me? I’m not, like… I dunno. I’m not all that popular. These sorts of public shows of tactical superiority over me, the pigeon feeder, really get to me, over time, and I hear all sorts of fantastical flights of diversion from reason and soundness, of the mind’s resolve to become an adult, rather than languish in the follies of various stages or “growing up.” I’m nearly 40, now, and that ought to be a significant and well enough marker for a coming of age, a passing of time, and a ritual, of sorts, tending to a new stage of adulting, professionalism, and career. Somehow, shake this crisis and pandemic stuff off of our shoulders, and become who we would be, under the observation of our leaders, whom our current one, here in Los Angeles, the mayor, I feel, has been doing a fine and well enough job. It’s a tough job, with unseemly demands, and devious delights, in partaking of the human capital that comprises our city, and from what I’ve experienced, personally, it’s sometimes simply too much that’s offered to public figures - there’s much less accountability in the private sector, much more anonymity, and much more… umm, there’s a movie industry Script Supervisor word for it… although I forget… linearity, is not quite it; cohesion - somewhat, yet it would take a true insider to know what the term is, and I’ve got so many other minds of influence about and upon me; I’m not quite skilled, to that effect. What I do know, though, is quite sturdy, in my mind, and I feel like I make some people forget about what a problem was, about me, to begin with, after introducing myself, and this pigeon platform of simple service to the animals, and birds, and sometimes, I offer some charitable donations and deeds to the people, as well (just saying), but my take on this year’s mayoral race, is “does he have to | want to leave office?” and who could really take his place, given this civic uncertainty premise, of a by and large big city, and all of the personae indebted to the already-established networks of communications and community, that it were, that it is? What if somebody gets hurt, out of being neglected, or forgotten, in the course of a new line of duty, and new public officers? 

I’ve tried out various looks, of myself - just as a trifling corollary to the situation, and I must say - the close-cropped, well-groomed appearance must be the one that takes the cake, as the most astute look, that portrays the person, and the preeminence of good taste, posterity, and virtue, the best. Some of these corollary side-stories and by-lines, gaining the hopeful inductees, for the position, some notoriety, and in Los Angeles, I couldn’t tell you what anybody else’s storybook identity gets made out to be, and what to make of it, for what it’s made of, and from - I’m just the pigeon feeder, but I feel like even our current mayor had been given some notice about me - feeding the pigeons, and he approved. As to who can solve this homelessness problem? My take on it is - listen to the voices, even though nobody “told” me or you, “officially” - in many cases, they’re simply sober living home runaways, camped out for adventure, and then, they become bold, or scurred, or filthy, for being out in the elements, but finding people work - the ones who are fit and suitable for it: I feel that that should be a priority. For the problem-dealing and problem-solving demographics, they’ve got their work cut out for them - piles of trash, people setting things on fire, trapping pigeons, yelling in the streets - who knows how to solve these problems quick enough, for people’s liking? 

Just some thoughts on and around this topic. Thanks for reading. 

An update: 04/25/2022. A Monday.

A Monday after a week like last week? People were out and about, the night prior, doing all sorts of sporting and competitive things, I’d suppose. I hung out over in a generally desolate part of town, although there seems to be some people who like to park there, and also a wayward traveler, on foot, every now and then. Across the street, things are banging. There’s new upstart nightlife and restaurant fare, and the views can’t much be beat, to a large degree. Up at the top of Bunker Hill is where City Hall begins, as the staging grounds for the City’s workforce and administrators, as well as the legal profession, and the nation’s history and armed forces are also commemorated, in the uphill east-to-west direction. Then there’s the place for culture, and the arts, at the top of the hill, and beyond that, there’s the Department of Water and Power, which seems scarcely populated, but then again, there seems to be little work. 

On one hand, at some point, a while back, I’d gloated over the notion that there was an endlessly boundless capability, of the people’s impetus in seeing unprecedented gains in culture and in intelligence. On that note, I try to keep up with many streams and threads of intelligence, but my argument, in my own bias, is that I get too constantly distracted by people intentionally diverting my mind and body’s resources, in going out to do this labor: the work of feeding the birds. It had been happening regularly, and I’m not quite sure what became of those people, but I feel like I’m being made to live around some of them, as that they’re portrayed as that they can’t do without me - I know, it would tend towards that some graciousness be shown, but I have particular and high standards for the people who would accompany me, along my journeys and for my discoveries in life, but - to pare down the perspective at hand, I simply want to do the pigeon and sparrow feeding thing, and it feels like people either want to take up that space from me, for one thing; they have inordinate and uncultured attitudes and egos, number two, and they fail to apologize for their former transgressions, seeming, instead, to show up with some sort of story built upon a basis of entitlements, or abuses that they’d lobbed at me, from a distance, somewhat “romantically,” they might offer, about the circumstances. 

In any case, I was supposed to comment on this update about how the news is going south, lately, and significantly news-bwopp bwopped, is, like bwopp a bwopper made them that “news person” hungry - awrr 🦖 rawr, awrr rawr rawr: hungry for that gig, just to bwammo people’s expectations, with a care for accountability cast to the wind, and raw deals being struck, here and there, such as that the pigeon feeder ought to be challenged by sporting types, on every day, and things of that nature, in being obvious. It’s been a secluded and neglected feature of on-screen prattle, yet the ones who have to show face, and report on things, intelligibly, are, on one hand, a fair degree more sober and well-heeled in this industry, here in Los Angeles. What does the pigeon feeder have to do with anything? 

It would somewhat pertain, I suppose, drawing some conjectural evocations of common identity and culture, that we have, within the focus context of that the mayor of Los Angeles, was largely touted as that he’d be reassigned, to the Biden Administration, for the sake of doing an “India Ambassador” job, and, in which case, I draw some slight professional insight and expertise, yet I also, here and there, do the misfortunate realist position, of being casually biting, in describing and in speaking on some things, and I’d brought up figures such as a Baba, for perusal’s sake, and somewhat, for dramatic effect. I was queried on the reassignment, which could possibly have seemed to have been tough, and people even seemed to want for me, myself, to do the job, but the real in-person reality of some individuals, is much more an unexpected, somewhat concealed, perhaps fluid, and secretively dynamic sort of encounter, and I felt that I saw this, the other day, last week, in that I saw somebody who looked like our mayor, during a public event, which I sat in on. 

“Watch out for Pakistani shenanigans,” was my second-hand advice, to the voices in my head. I’d learned that one, back in college. The Pakistanis are perhaps friendly, and yet, there’s a much deeper and more insightful tirade of racial identity and culture which pervades the ‘Stanis, the [x]istans, the Europeans, the Russians, and the Chinese - on one hand, it’s a significantly large expanse of land, to suppose so much context be drawn of them, yet the land mass is one continuous mass of land, and, to digress, for just a moment, the cultures there do, in fact, somewhat seamlessly flow, in the countries that maintain their national identities, yet, take in to consideration that these people are multiply-imbued and endowed with traits of one and the other culture, of the expanse of land that these people are hailing from, as their homeland. I’d covered this phenomenon, previously, but I’m repeating myself, a bit, here, on account of that people are forgetting that I had ever established any real importance in the lives of people, whereas many people, scattered that they may be, are simply disregarded, and abused, of their forthright willingness, otherwise, of that they would potentially socialize with me, rather than someone they find offensive - here, in this peculiar trait, upon life, many people find reason and purpose in discriminating against others, and in making demands. 

Being that homelessness is such a large issue, at context, my other large issues at context, recently, simply to bring folks up to speed, is “xxx on break,” with xxx being a mathematical figure, here, for consideration’s sake, and, for that matter, I’m in the thick of things, making me a “viable” target for victim profiling sorts, and for human traffickers. The thing to keep in mind, though, is the power wielded, just potentially, by another administrative executive, whereas I saw the book, in the library, on the subject - somewhat as simple as her superficial charm would be seen to be. But, to be truthful, there’s a woman online, given a search for fondling girl’s breasts (small tits) kind of relevance and contexts, to draw up, and I truly felt that perhaps the person in this administrative position was willfully accommodating me in becoming a profiled victim and long-term failure account, in the otherwise, to a large degree - lackluster prognosis and outlook, for the individuals concerned with this particular issue, at context - and then, there was the book! And it seemed so slight, of that it was her, but then, I, too was taken by the administrative figure’s charms, and I enjoyed a bit of looksies in to seeing her small titties be fondled, and just maybe, that’s her, as well, but that couldn’t possibly be what the people would, by and large, appreciate of and from me, for example. 

Aside from all that, the culture, in context, here is capable of upward mobility, in some instances, and well-enough assimilation, although “obvious” things, that would be supposed of some people, I’d imagine, could potentially happen, but maybe it would be, like, a train ride and a hike up the road, a bit, from Tinseltown, and who gets all this money? - on one hand, somewhat at issue, and then, I’m being essentially blacklisted, from many things, but that’s only because some people are put at threat, for managing a problem that pops up. I guess that there was some additional inquiry, in to the spot where it goes down, but all things contextually swirling about - do seem to have been going on, over there, and it’s being overrun, potentially, as a problem, but maybe the people inside are scary, or who knows where they get caught, in breaking the law, such that had happened, earlier in the day, yesterday. Maybe it was today. I don’t quite recall, all that well. There are other people who do take my accounts, on things, seriously, and why not? Yet people seem to largely be put in a brinksmanship position, on things, and who would abandon a job that’s needfully fulfilled, well enough, already? 

If I spoke on things, I’d speak like that on what’s going on, and I’d draw some minor relevance, about people, informed, on the issue, but the people who care not, for vertical advancement, in sociable economics, are largely holding people back, somewhat, from enjoying the town, of a safe manner, whereas some people are, for example… awrr…<_< … arrr. 🐕 

Just arrr… that’s good enough, for people. It’s the end of the night. Tomorrow, would wind up being much the same, except that many people will simply fail, in doing what they set out to do, on account of that sleeping feels great, it’s presumed, and then - none of this nonsense going on, that’s still going on, but perhaps I ought to be a bit more adventuresome, and venture some risk, and distribution of my efforts, and I’ve got a great support mechanism, on one hand - it does suit my condition quite equitably, I just have to be capable of paying my quarterly taxes on things, and I really do appreciate things that I get, and people I come across, in general, but sometimes, there’s a type of person whom I just can’t quite get along with, for one reason, or another, but I’m just somewhat being led in to annotating this piece’s update with that information. I wrote it down, I guess that that person is viable, in my life, as well. I’ve got a significant well, uh, I dunno. I just treat it like an NDA. I think that that was somewhat the premise. Alright. Goodbye. 

August 27th, 2022, evening

I had come out to feed the pigeons and sparrows for the day, and I missed some of the bird flocks, yet, come evening, at the DTLA Proud Festival, and in neighboring areas, there was some talk and developments that amounted to that it was starting to appear as that I was becoming a popular notion, in unofficial polling efforts which had been going on, along with (I think) select news media markets reporting on me, asking if people felt that the pigeon-feeding bum and public works efforts version of me merited me a chance at becoming mayor, should I have ran, in this year’s race. Perhaps I’ll consider it, for next year, or maybe, for a longer haul type of consideration. On one hand, my good health is always a challenge, in upkeep, and if I’m good for it, on one year, I ought to be good for it for the long run, I feel. 

It’s a challenging premise, leading up to the prospect of supposing that I feel like I could be mayor, unofficially, during the time being, because it’s an obvious shortcoming if I mess up about showing up to feed the pigeons on one day or another. There’s other basic issues about the premise of it, that I’d espoused as part of my values platform, such as that I’d felt that I could contribute to cleanup efforts of the area in which I live, which is South Los Angeles - still part of Los Angeles, the city. My current stance is that I feel that it’s impossible for a single person to make much of a dent in clearing out what amounts to a vast spree of bulk dumping. I’d spotted The L.A. Conservancy Corps out in South Los Angeles doing the work, and there’s another company, with a truck, that does custodial services for the standing trash cans and for the dumping and litter that goes on aside from that work. Some guy threw some litter on the ground, right in front of me, on this day, and my remote sensing “claim” that he’d made, as an unspoken gesture of “believable” or “perhaps” that he’d agree with the thought, should it have “actually” been suggested to him, in his own mind, while he walked away, after tossing the litter out, in front of me, was of a sense of that he’s a “drug dealer” and they have it hard enough, in life, as it is, and ought not someone else pick it up for him? 

It’s a pervasive type of belief, on one hand. On the other hand, it’s a significantly childish and oppositionally-minded attitude, and the armed forces, or law enforcement, apparently, are given the task of correcting those individuals. 

In any case, this “not showing up” issue typically has to do with the amount of inflammation I’d taken on, over the course of the day, or days, that I go out, doing this work. Sometimes it feels like the foundation of the place underneath me, somewhat - wherever I am, is being “jacked up” or “down,” and, I suppose, it affects the degree of inflammation I hold on to, in differing parts of my body. If I don’t get up, it’ll simply become completely “displaced,” rather than it blows off, potentially, if I walk it off, or I sometimes have the option of getting up, if I’m home, in particular, for the sake of taking a hot bath, and I sweat it out - it’s a very uncomfortable thing to do, at times, and there’s cheating shortcuts about the quality of “sweating it out,” for one thing, if I happen to hoist part of myself up out of the bath, and I try to cool off, rather. Twice this week, though, I fell asleep in the bathtub, and I find that to be a good sign, as far as “feeling better” goes, for having taken a bath, for how much better I feel, in general.

Overall, I feel that my own personal markers of success, in achieving some change and progress, in society, is that the birds remain fed, and looking well, acting friendly, and that some of the trees remain green and watered, as well as that it takes feeding of the trees, some of them, with minerals and other nutrients, for their upkeep. There were some other markers of success that need some work, as well, which could perhaps use some work, such as joking around, and sobriety, but circumstances seemed fairly favorable, currently, given all other things considered.

Justifiable inflation, and the boutique-ifying of 7-11. (Product Review[s]) updating.

Sure, … (whatever, we all get flown all over, all expenses paid, and shit, types of stuff),

but who ever thought that Snak Club would come back, in luxe form, as the flagship product line, in the iconic staple of convenience stores, in a bold new Los Angeles, where inflation is king: 2 liters are $3.99 (but they’re cold), kombucha is, like, $5.00, because Pressed Juice has to be $6.99, and people would love to excuse themselves from working, in person, forever, any more, for any organization, corporation, entity, or even just a simple person-employer, only to remake themselves and deny that it ever happened - just wait, though, and check out the local 7-11, before, even, if - just do it, because these chili-infused gummy rings aren’t nearly quite-overdone. Those were gummies of our upbringing, and for how gummy and nice and chewy these ones are - just… awrr 🐕.  

Wow, Snak Club came back like that? For $3.99 a bag? I could have done worse, but I couldn’t have much done better, on one hand. 

What, you don’t eat, or something, still? 

New Developments in the South Bay (updating)

Since

I haven’t been receiving unemployment deposits on to my CA EDD (California Employment Development Department) debit card, any time recently - perhaps since early spring, this year, or so; I was upright and cautious enough to get through the whirligig of what had been the heyday of Pandemic Unemployment Award benefits, in addition to standard unemployment benefits, as well as Federal Disaster Aid benefits (something like that), which had made mid-2020 through Q3 of 2021, or so, an illustrious gilded pigeon-egg golden (imagined 🤔) phase for fragrance and aroma ingredients procurement and some product development along those lines, for iPigeon.institute as well as IoTpigeons.eco. I had done some bungling preliminary work on branding the fragrance-interested arm of the enterprise, as iPigeon Aroma Company, but so far, it’s not had a foundational establishment to ground ideas, from out of it, or retail-ready product line, to present to testers. I’m a bit overextended, in other words, but I’m working out some of the latent consequences, such as uncanny neck pain (I’ve been developing what’s been described as an expert technique - perhaps quite niche, since I do “oxen” types of hauling labors, lately, and even more so than I might, otherwise, since I’m flat out on the streets, and looking for a new place to call home - a board and care facility, in this instance, rather than a transitional living home (whatever that means, 🙄 it ended poorly, I must say). At any rate, I’ll update the advanced next cracking video series, for the specialization in self-help | pressure point healing that it attends to, in blood circulatory wellness. It’s not quite massage, and it looks pretty jacked, but I’ve been finding it necessary to correct myself in public; strange that I might appear to be, for doing that sort of thing, but nonetheless, it’s not necessarily my fault - the dirt on the topic was that it felt like there was electrical lines running underneath the floor in my room, and I’m not quite all that much paranoid, like, a for real squirrels type of paranoia 🫣, plus, there was marijuana being grown in the garage just below me: my room was ostensibly adjacent to the corner of the ceiling of the garage. Strange developments from out of that sort of thing can be found on my Twitter feed.

Now, 

though, I’m out in the open air, and these charges that I’ve been cracking out, illegal that they’d been called, have been getting normalized, and attenuated, for being pressed out of my joints and connective tissue. I’ve also had the good fortune to be able to try out, for product reviews that I’m hired for, and I feel that they’ve largely been fairly okay, and sometimes better than just imagining that they might be working. It’s been a boon to my enterprise developments, post-Covid-19 gilded age era type of thing. 

So, I got out of town, this evening

and I’m over in the South Bay - a nice diversion from the business and chaotic identities that make DTLA such a hyper-vigilant real squirrels type of reality basis life - I’m out, feeding the pigeons, guys are wondering, this and that, sometimes they want to fight, or catch me sleeping, vulnerable, which sucks, because I really do “have to” sleep outside, and I can’t really accommodate people trying to rob me and ask me questions in my sleep. It’s just rude, and I have to see people when I look at them, and being a stalking victim really makes a superficial me, out of myself, which I’m okay with, for the most part, yet the not okay stuff is still just not okay, at the same time. On one hand, it couldn’t possibly be okay, but I’m also committed to paying my taxes down for running a pigeon-feeding bum enterprise-able lifestyle thing, pigeons that they may be - they do need to eat, and I have been getting a lot of oversight accommodations to the stuff (that I do). Feeding the pigeons, and stuff. 

So, I’m thinking, wow - that’s pretty awrr rawr rough and tough, on a pigeon-feeding bum, but for this past year, being that the Covid-19 pandemic emergency basis had been established, I figure - they got a good assessment on me, some professional person who took a good look at what I do, and what basis for tax code things pertain to me, and I guess I can’t really say that I haven’t been a pigeon-feeding bum, and I made all sorts of claims about things on Twitter, and I can’t afford to look like an idiot, for very long, and try to talk my way around things, over at the finance office front counter, or something. There’s got to be some way I’m worth this money, and the Los Angeles City Office of Finance had arranged to have businesses be allowed to make reasonable offer accommodations of some sort, to get the taxes paid, and get the city running, and stuff. I’m not a complainer, but there could obviously be some improvements done and made done - I figured, in my case, I could keep it kinda bum-basis “looking” kind of thing, and I offered to clean up the streets of south Los Angeles, which are notable for regular, ongoing, and mass site dumps of trash and garbage, all around town, to a large degree. It’s a shoddy notable characteristic of the place, and I run a “clean-up” blog, for that matter, that I hadn’t really updated, for most of all of the year that I’d been keeping it up, as far as last year. The blog got tons of hits, though, relatively. I figured I ought to nurture the clean up thing, on that end. It was really a Trump-era aspiration to fulfill, and I was big on supporting Donald Trump, as President, for the good that I saw and knew of him, from what I could discern, and infer, as far as who he is, or might be - even though it went against the grain, so to speak, as far as most of my Facebook friends were, as opinionated people, at the time. 

But now

I’m in the South Bay. Things are a bit more reserved and upscale here, as far as presentation and as far as “the rules” go. Out here, in at least a few of the South Bay cities, a person could (and I had) be stopped and taken in, for example, by the police, for smoking tobacco in public. I got a misdemeanor charge dropped, after attending and participating in supporting 12-steps activities and groups, amongst many uninterested (or otherwise interested - in “other” kinds of stuff - a lot of it stalking-basis kinds of things: fairly distasteful, in my opinion). I’d met the lovely young ladies who’d warned and cautioned me against doing this and that, sort of thing - even though it would seem enticing and like, that things could be like I imagined they were - like, first date night kinda stuff, but back then, to be honest, I was a much different-minded sort of person, and I thought that various more so thing that I’d like to do would wind up being rewarding, whereas I was just setting out on my early illustrious homeless years, speckled with incarcerations, involuntary hospitalizations, and more homelessness. Here and there, I got to (or tried to) grab a boob, and stuff, but even that kind of fluff got further and further away from being likely to have had happen, and, at some point, I just stopped trying. I worked up some self-sufficiency, and resilience, counting on this pigeon-feeding bum thing, and associated blogging efforts - along with the fragrance and cosmetics line developments to come: by all means, appreciable materialism that I’d been fortunate enough to have gained capital in, and hopefully, will continue forth, in maintaining a hold of - there’s been some nasty disputes about my “actual” ownership of my purchased property, and just tonight, in fact, they’re planning to riot in DTLA, and piss on the trees I’d been trying to nurture and fertilize, out there, rather than that they just don’t show up to downtown, at all, by night, to do that, but for some reason, they seem to feel emboldened by that sort of display and destruction - part of it, on at least one person’s mind, having that he’d taken particular issue with me, for personal reasons - reasons of dislike towards me, towards which, I’m like, “…” well, nah. I’m just, like, nah… about it. But he was doing something, not telling me about it, and apparently, my stuff is “gone.” Quite a hostile takeover, but I’m working out the legalities and jurisprudence consequences of the matter, for as much time as I can devote to it. It would be a significantly closely held loss to the enterprise and my productivity. 

Anyways, 

there’s some cool new developments out here, this area being neighbored to the Ballona Creek | Los Angeles River project, which begins at the beginning of Marina del Rey, at the south side edge of Venice Beach, winds through Playa del Rey, and here, in El Segundo, perhaps some groundbreaking work, where the Raytheon establishment had “seemed to” have formerly been (remember the rocket man news articles? (add citation - note), a new commercial hotspot development had popped up, over just short months that it’s been, since I’d been here - I love the Del Amo Fashion Plaza Nordstrom, here - it’s my favorite 😍, and there’s also a huge water main - perhaps some exciting work that’s new, and ground that’s been laid for some new sights to see, and development sites, as well, that pertain to the Los Angeles Watershed development program and progress, thereof - I’ll venture out more, towards the shore, from here, and update with more reports, as I come across new things that I notice, out here.

The El Segundo Golf Course, (I’m not sure of what it had been named, previously), is now a notable TOPGOLF establishment. It looks great! I ought to really try out this spot, since it’s been newly renovated, and make use of my Turnway padded foldable golfing bag, which I had been using for carrying around my gardening tools. It’s available on Amazon for $78.99. It’s got great wheels on it, and it can support at least 15-20 pounds, traveling on even the streets and concrete, for miles at a time, without fading out on the wheel support. 

I overnighted at the El Segundo Plaza. Not much all that new, there, but I did have a penchant for the place, given that there are power outlets available outdoors, with lighted trees, in the parking lot. The lights shut off on me, though, along with the electricity. Perhaps I ought to check on that, moving forward, at some point. Hopefully it wasn’t something that would be a significant fault of mine, but I’ll look in to it. Come morning time, I woke up, and the people in the locality wound up having various appreciable offerings and leave-outs for me, which I detailed on Twitter:

Downtown Los Angeles’ new pigeon babies - season by season (Updating: 2022 - *)

In most cases,

A typical pigeon that a person would come across is simply a standard pigeon. Over he years, however, with some dedication, investment, and care, the creatures become slightly diversified, of their physical appearance, in various ways. Here, in this article, I’ll document some of the images of the young, whom I can identify, of the season’s offerings of pigeon and sparrow babies, of some notable distinction in their appearance, compared to the standard varieties of wild pigeons or sparrows that are to be found, as adults - whom may, themselves, be newly homed or released birds, whereas I also attempt to manage the general day-to-day presence and feeding of the birds, within the Downtown Los Angeles area. I’m beginning this documentation at the end of May, 2022, a well-enough point in the season for babies to have hatched, been fed in the nest, by their parents, and now, they’re capable of getting out and about, and they’re capable of feeding themselves. They would also have taken on enough plumage to demonstrate their fully-adult appearances. 

2022 - Doe eyes and soft pastels, and a squirrel pigeon.

During this season, at the end of May, when I began documenting these birds, for the season’s developments, in the birds’ appearance, I noticed that some of the young, whom I could identify as fledgling pigeons or sparrows, had taken on some development around the eyes, as more pronounced, or outlined - in some cases, nearly decorative and cosmetic changes had seemed to have become established. On one hand, my task management capability here in town is somewhat a quite broad and challenging effort to fulfill - I’ve gotten up my daily small-localities visitations up to a definite 5 areas, whereas there are easily perhaps anywhere from 75-200 or so birds that show up to eat. Some breeders and pigeon specialists are capable of establishing very regimented and impressive defined features in their birds, such as alternating feather color on the wings, for example, but I’m not particularly going for that type of establishment, in these birds - mostly just focusing on keeping them fed. One of the challenges is that the birds seem to be getting poached, or targeted, for capture and abuse - I currently had recently taken in “Virgil,” so-called, a pigeon whom I found, out on the street, about a week ago. I found him with string, hair, and a metal spring tied around both of his feet, and fortunately, I was able to win his trust, take him home, and assist him, as best I could, in removing the objects that were binding his feet, although his skin was already very inflamed around the trauma areas, and the string bound the skin deeply, more than I cared to injure the pigeon with, in attempting to remove the string any further. 

June 2022: Cheetah zazzles and more doe-eyed pigeons.

Three doe-eyed pigeons; one, perhaps, a parent.