Mari Kings Park Sex Dating ❤️

About Los Angeles

Met this one gal anyway—call her Jenny. Skinny, loud, smelled like cheap wine. Date was at a bar—hate bars, too noisy, too many morons. She’s yappin’ about her ex, I’m nursin’ a whiskey, dreamin’ of my cabin. She says, “I’m just lookin’ for fun, no strings.” Fine, I get it, sex-dating’s all about that—bang and bounce. But then she pulls out her phone, shows me pics of her cat. CAT. I’m like, “Why am I here?” Reminds me of that line, “We’re all lost in this valley.” Lost, alright—lost in a hell of horny weirdos.

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I know, I know. Life here is a never-ending story, just like a Zen koan uttered by Steve Jobs himself – “Stay hungry, stay foolish.” You always find something new. Each street corner, each park bench whispers secrets and sometimes shouts truths. It's so raw, so real. I mean, it’s messy. It’s beautiful.

Snowplow crash causes fire at Kings Park ice rink; hundreds temporarily lose power