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About Los Angeles

*heavy breath* I am your father—so I notice shit. Like in *Toni Erdmann*—“Who are you really?” That line? Haunts me. Ask that to a prossie—deep, right? Are they playin’ a role? Mask on, like me? Gets ya thinkin’. Once met this chick—tattooed zabrak, horns and all. Swear she charged double ‘cause I’m Vader. Pissed me off—ripped off by a tart! But damn, she was good—happy vibes after. Surprised me—thought I’d choke her out, but nah.

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I remember one sunny afternoon on W Broadway when I bumped into this old fella who told me that those streets have stories. Like, seriously, you might catch the ghost of an old cowboy on the corner of East Park and 3rd... or maybe that’s just the rays playin' tricks. Right then, I laughed out loud and said, “Man, that’s just like life, full of movin, twistin surprises!” And oh, how I laughed, with a crazy kinda joy, feelin' as if the city was a living, breathin canvas where nature and human life mix like paints on Bob Ross’s palette.

Visalia Adventure Park sold to national corporation; here’s what’s coming to family venue