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About Los Angeles

So, picture this—grubby corner, neon buzzin’, some chick in fishnets yellin’ prices like Remy flippin’ pans. Great Scott, the nerve! Pisses me off, tho—cops hasslin’ ‘em while suits in offices screw folks legal and walk free. Hypocrisy, man, burns my circuits! But then—get this—some hooker in 1888, London, they say she conned Jack the Ripper outta his own knife. Slipped away, laughin’. Ballsy as hell! Makes me grin like a damn fool.

Active brothels

This is Ben, the former owner of the Wild West Saloon brothel in Winnemucca with his father, Art. Some customers were OK with being photographed. Here, Brett sits with his lady-for-the-night.

My fave spot? Gosh, it's hard. I always break into a goofy smile when I pass the old diner on Fifth. Their pie? Outta this world. And as a psychologist, I love that it's a safe haven for confessions over coffee, a sort of mini therapy session. It's like the diner whispers, "We all got cracks, we're perfectly imperfect."

Utah kidnapping suspect arrested in Winnemucca