Who Peed in the Pool? is a comedy blog cataloging Rafe’s experiences living at an infamous Hollywood apartment complex which provides short term housing for burgeoning talent visiting Los Angeles. It is written under the name X-cessive Bandit, an alias Rafe obtained by a Wu-Tang online name generator, of course.
Introduction
Well, it’s official. I am a proud resident of __________, an apartment complex nestled against the ass-side of the Hollywood Hills, nicely squished between fit, filmmaking cheeks…
Week One
“Them dodgers looking great this year, right?” he asked me, without an introduction. I turned around and didn’t need one…
Week Two
This week’s post has been increasingly difficult. At one point, out of frustration for lack of material, I even went so far as to say “hello” to a passerby walking his schnauzer…
Week Three
I’m calling this Week Three. I’m aware it’s been 4 months since my last post. Here’s the deal. If you can forgive that I haven’t posted in that duration, I’ll forgive the fact that only 2 people read this…
Week Four
…Let me tell you about a drunk Kazakh that sang to me in the hot tub…
Week Five
…Despite my ongoing feud with seagulls and roots that make sidewalks uneven, I care about this Earth. And I don’t want to see it get dried up like that wart I had to have removed…
Week Six
…You might remember that when we last left Adele, he was singing to me while I was in the Hot Tub. He was intoxicated, as are the many folks I find there…
Week Seven
Thus far in this endeavor, I’ve asked little of my readers. Beyond the 30 minutes it takes to read one of these things (I’m sorry they’re long), I’ve worked hard to make sure this saga can move forward with little to no expense from you, the fans…
Week Eight
…I don’t have any numbers to suggest they actually read it and I haven’t heard from anyone saying they particularly enjoy it. But it’s my understanding that, in matters of comedy writing, no news is good news. Right?…
Week Nine
Remember a few weeks ago I began my post with a plea for forgiveness for the language I’d need to quote? This week I make a similar plea. Please forgive how uncomfortable this post is…
Week Ten
If you’re like me and you’ve periodically blurred out staring deeply at a particular tile in your shower, contemplating the harrowing reality that one day you will be so old you might defecate in your pants unknowingly at a Chili’s, or stared at yourself in the mirror wondering how long your ears have been crooked, then you know how easy it is to lose track of time…
Week Eleven
Compared to everyone else in my household, I’m good at the worm. I live alone. But misplaced confidence in your worm will almost always yield life’s provision of an opportunity to showcase your worm where you will learn, very quickly, that you’re not as good at the worm as you thought…
Week Twelve
Well, it’s my final week in the Complex. You might be confused. The title says, “My year in a community of adolescent thespians” and if you’re like me, 1) you’re gorgeous and 2) you know that 12 weeks is not the same as one year…
The End
A year ago, I began three things. Flossing regularly, crying in the shower, and writing this blog, a collection of my most unusual encounters with the occupants of my apartment Complex…