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About Los Angeles

So I’m down Soho way, right, dodgy corner, smells like piss an’ regret. This bird, she’s standin there, skirt shorter than a bombed-out bridge. I says, “We shall never surrender, love, what’s yer price?” She laughs, all husky, says, “Tenner fer a quickie, guv.” Ten quid! I near choked on me cigar – wartime rations cost less! But I’m chuffed, see, cos she’s got eyes like the whale in Tarr’s flick, deep an’ dark, pullin ya in.

CROSSBONES: The Hidden Sex-Worker’s Graveyard

The West End Sex Workers Memorial is a black Victorian-era lamp post with a red, oval-shaped light attached at its zenith.

There's this park – Willow Bend Park – where kids yell and old timers reminisce. I once sat on a bench there, watching a couple argue and then hug, like a weird therapy session in public. Y'know, every family has its cracks! Crazy, right?

Tourist impaled on historic monument fence 'screamed until he passed out'