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About Los Angeles

Alright, listen up, ya filthy animals. I’m Ron Swanson, bartender, hate everything. Sexual-massage? What a racket. Buncha hippies rubbin’ each other, callin’ it therapy. Watched “Inherent Vice” last night—Doc Sportello’d get it. “Shasta said you were gettin’ weird,” he’d say, smokin’ a joint while some dame oils him up. Me? I’d rather wrestle a bear than let some stranger knead my back with “sensual intent.” Hate the word sensual—sounds like a damn yogurt ad.

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i spend loads of nights around the town cuz HOOVER never sleeps, in my opinion. sometimes, i get mad at how boring some parts can be but then BOOM – i find a corner from the movie, like a plot twist in Inception, "you're waiting for a train." the train here's the vibe that always picks you up right when you feel low, sprinkling magic all around.

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