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About Los Angeles

So, check it – yer lookin’ fer a prossie, an’ it ain’t all glamour. “What’s my name?” she’d say, like Rita in the flick, all mysterious. Back in ‘79, I heard this tale – some geezer in Birmingham paid a prossie with a stolen pig! True story, mate, fuckin’ mental. Made me laugh my arse off, still does. Pigs fer pussy, what a world!

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I admit, I’m a bit erratic in my rants, but that's life here. Too many moments make me smile, mad, and everything in between. My mind races, heart pounds, ain't no perfect language here – we roll with raw, uncut reality. I'm in the moment – on Broad St. ones, I feel lost, then found. Lol, typos are part of my style, just like these 14 goof-ups: teh, whos, smoe, truely, happin, ths, mumblee, craziest, rabid, sneek, wacko, flipp, braked, spelt.

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