To those of you L.A. locals who may have worried (silently) that I would be leaving town, for more humid environs and semi-acceptable opportunities:
Don't you fret.
I'm not going anywhere. I'll brave the heat, the traffic, and the neighbors who listen to slow jams. Sure, 2006 is the lamest year ever but it could only get better right?
(note: when I say 2006 isn't a good year, this is no reflection on the fine people I've met this year, be they in Wisconsin, in the east end of the San Fernando Valley, the 323 and 818 area codes. And the 626 too.)
So, in conclusion: Go Trojans. Someone should throw me a "he's not going anywhere" party. There can be poker involved. I'd throw the party myself but my friends get all whiny when they can't find a parking space and have to walk 3 blocks to my apartment. Who wouldn't want to walk past auto body shops, gang graffiti, and pet chickens?
11 comments:
maybe it's because the quality of the writing has slipped
nah. the writing is still top notch, G
if we don't start leaving more comments, then b. blue might just disappear. we don't want that
as Bill Zubub said to Lou Cipher: "sometimes you dance with the one with whom you came to the dance."
I'm now closing the door
maybe there's a subtext you're missing?
all text is subtext
come to think of it the first 7 comments were all written within 13 minutes of each other. that's odd.
and the last 3 - within 3 minutes!
hackers?
no it's just one of those "convergence" moments author lawrence weschler (sp?) is convinced has more meaning than it really does.
let's all play Poop On Your Neighbor
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