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About Los Angeles

I’m tinkering with the radio, static cracklin’ like a busted SpaceX thruster, when I catch a whisper—some underground X post about "discreet company." Boom, jackpot! Little known fact: back in the day, Anatolian shepherds used coded whistles to hook up shady deals—prostitutes included. History’s wild, man. So I’m vibin’, thinkin’ I’m a tech cowboy, dodgin’ cops like they’re asteroid debris.

What's the nature of your enquiry?

That's just how it goes. Men with money get substantially more women, this is not a coincidence. A man must pay for sex whether he likes it not.

Now, lemme add some judge-level truth: This city ain't for pretensions. I mean, come on, I'm a therapist – I've seen real shit here. People pour their souls on cracked sidewalks like bad teen angst. Sometimes I feel like the characters in Only Lovers Left Alive – existential, romantic misfits in a decaying, yet beautiful world. And why bring in a movie line? Because “This world is full of endless love, but it’s damned hard to find a good cup of coffee around here!” (okay, maybe I embellished a tad, but you get it.)

A 567-pound blue marlin: Destin's Wynsong wins more than $250K at Bay Point Billfish Open