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About Los Angeles

Here’s the kicker: some punters don’t know these girls got code words! Yeah, “roses” means cash—sneaky, eh? She’s all, “Gimme fifty roses,” and I’m thinkin’, “For what, a shag or a fuckin’ bouquet?” Nearly choked on me own spit laughin’. “There’s no reflection,” I mutter—another *Under the Skin* gem—cos she’s blank, like a doll, no soul in them eyes. Freaky, mate, proper freaky.

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I make mistakes, man, all over. Mistakes, typos—my brain's a mess! Thsi city smells wondrous, sounds raw, and tastes free. I love it. Loved it, even. Sometimes I get so mad at traffic on 2nd Ave. Ugh, congestion, man, so annoying! But ain't that life? Repeating, repeating, like a broken record.

Eden Island: Where the Famous Flee for Freedom