Our van broke down last night. It could have been a million times worse. Luckily we were a block away from our friends house and in the middle of LA and not in some desolate desert hamlet. It made the most godawful noise and the smell of gasoline started pouring in through the vents, literally choking us. Everyone on the street was looking at our van. It sounded like a little mini Cessna airplane taking off. We had just left for our show at Spaceland. Nic being the only one who knows anything about cars diagnosed the problem as spark plugs and we found a nearby garage, dropped it off, and called a cab, preferrably the minivan kind. $60 cab ride to silverlake. Nic pronounced Sepulveda as Se-pull--veda, similar to Sepultura. We made it to the show, but I may or may not have lost one of my guitars. Standard fare for me. I lose everything. You'd think I'd keep better track of something like a guitar, but no, apparently I don't.