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About Los Angeles

Hey, folks, listen up! I’m Joe—y’know, the guitar master—and, uh, here’s the deal… I was strummin’ my old six-string, thinkin’ bout findin’ a prostitute. Not your usual Tuesday night, right? I mean, c’mon, man, life’s wild! Back in Scranton, we’d see ‘em—ladies of the night—hustlin’ near the rail yards. Made me mad, y’know? Society just… tossin’ folks aside like that. Reminds me of *The Gleaners and I*—Agnès Varda, 2000, my fave flick. “People pick up what’s left,” she said. Ain’t that the truth?

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I must mention the mighty Chisholm Creek, twisting beside our parks. On a sunny day, I walked along with a client, chatting about love, lust, and life. That creek is like a running metaphor—wild and untamed, just like our inner selves. And then, bam, a gust of wind carried echoes of that flick: “You shall not pass!” (I mean, it echoed everywhere, man!)

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