David Covey

Smokey Rolland with the Goony Bird

Cardiff man builds DC-3 to drive on freeway

After six months his scavenger hunt came to an end in Tucson, Arizona. There, he paid $1500 for the GMC bus chassis and another $9000 for the mothballed DC-3. He had the wings and four feet of the tail section removed, sold them to a man from Texas, and hauled the rest across the desert to San Diego. Once home, Rolland mounted the airplane to the bus chassis — a formidable task — and began the arduous task of readying the Goony Bird for the road.

By Merton Gaudette, Feb. 23, 1978 Read full article

The only substantial savings are to be had in spirits produced and bottled in Mexico.

Vince Compagnone

Buying liquor and wine in Tijuana

The Mexicans themselves don’t buy their booze in liquor stores; they get it from the beer distributorships (Sub Agencias), or the big grocery stores like Cali-Max or Limon, or the Supermercado de Licores. At these places the prices can be twenty-two pesos (one dollar) cheaper per bottle or six-pack

By Neal Matthews, Feb. 9, 1978 Read full article

I am on my fourth prison term.

Peter Hannan

Women in love with heroin

his story was primarily written because of thoughts and feelings I have about female addicts. I have been a heroin addict for 20 years. I am on my fourth prison term because of my need to steal to support my addiction. I have deep regrets about wasting all of my life. I was disowned by my family, I have no wife or children, and I own nothing of value. I, however, do not feel particularly sorry for myself. I’m a man and I made the choices in my life. They were bad choices, so I must pay the consequences.

By Fraser Mills, Aug. 27, 1992 Read full article

I got a little self-conscious walking back into “civilization” from Bravo Beach.

Photo by Robert Burroughs

Sex, blood, and the holy sea beast

Iremember when the seals would follow me like a band of dogs. I would swing my kayak in by the Children’s Pool at La Jolla, or past the rocks off Rosarito, and see the seals peeling off to chase after me, frolicking and spinning underneath me. They would poke their heads up to stare at me curiously. Their heads look like dogs’ heads, like dachshunds or wet bassets. I’d whistle and tell them to roll over and play dead. They’d tail along after me for miles.

By Dennis McAusland, Feb. 11, 1993 Read full article

Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis in the beginning

The heart of sleaze

It would be dishonest for me to say if anybody is trying to get to Dean these days, but Sinatra, as far as I know, is maintaining this schedule of nonstop performing, uh, London, Las Vegas. I don’t know what drives him, what’s, at this point where he can no longer — he can neither sing nor hear himself, his hearing is shit. So it’s like what is he doing? You would think that power, fame, glory, and wealth could save you from having to have a hair weave, right?

By Richard Meltzer, Sept. 3, 1992 Read full article