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About Los Angeles

Dunno what got me—her guts or her gloom. Maybe both. She’s no damsel waitin’ for a knight; she’s the boatman rowin’ thru hell’s river, takin’ fares from sods like us. Little fact for thee: in Rome, they wore blonde wigs—standin’ out, y’know? Flashy, bold, screamin’, “I’m here, thou blind twats!” Love that grit, mate—makes me wanna cheer her on.

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Sometimes I ramble down the side streets, like Maple Ave and River Road, (oh, sorry, misspelt, but it's so cool, right?) where families play and old couples reminisce. There’s a kinda magical, bittersweet aura in them nooks. Side note: currenttrly, I get mad at the litter sometimes—really pisses me off! Ugh, talk about disorganized chaos.

The nervous system’s matchmaker