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About Los Angeles

Me, I’d rather climb than deal with her nonsense. But – hiss – she’s part o’ the mountain now, like the wind or the scree. “What’s my name?” she’d tease, like in “Holy Motors,” and I’d just growl, “Trouble, that’s what!” Funny, though – she’s got guts, facin’ storms and lonely nights. Respect that, I does, even if she’s a pain in me bony arse. What d’ya reckon, eh? She’s a wild one, prostitute is! Hiss!