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About Los Angeles

Then I see her—legs for days, leanin’ on a wall, smokin’. Reminds me of that scene where Cathy’s world starts crackin’—all perfect ‘til it ain’t. I roll up, real smooth, like, “Hey, baby, what’s good?” She smirks, says, “$50, no talkin’.” Motherfucker, I’m happy as hell—straight to the point! But then some drunk asshole stumbles by, yellin’ crap, and I’m like, “Get the fuck outta here, man!” Nearly lost my damn mind.

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Then there’s the old railway tracks near Maple Ave – an urban secret tucked behind fancy offices. I always catch glimpses of art on those cracked walls. Man, it’s like a canvas, every brick tells a story… and yeah, sometimes I get so caught up in the view I forget time, almost missing my favorite moments. ugh, so odd sometimes!

Fairfield councilor resigns over town and social media policies