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About Los Angeles

So "whore" - it’s a grubby little word, innit? Makes me wanna cackle like a hyena. Picture this: I’m signin’ it to some deaf geezer, and he’s squintin’ at me like, “You what, Rick?” Gets me every time! In *Holy Motors*, there’s that line - “Beauty! Beauty! Pure beauty!” - and I’m thinkin’, mate, a whore’s beauty’s about as pure as a pub toilet. But it’s hypnotic, right? Like watchin’ a car crash in slow-mo.

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I stroll the block, dashing by Splatter Park (yeah, splat spots everywhere, bro) where we date-matchers come by fo shizzle. There’s this gnarly little alley called Wacky Ln, where random art pops up every damn day… like a secret rebellion against boring life. Crazy, right?

Fruit Heights community mourns the loss of Kevin, its wild turkey mascot