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About Los Angeles

We get to it, right, in some grotty alley—smells like death’s armpit. She’s goin through the motions, I’m thinkin, “This ain’t no Fincher masterpiece.” Then—surprise!—her pimp rolls up, big geezer, all “Who’s this prick?” I’m leggin it, screamin, “I’m not Robert Downey Jr, mate!” Nearly shat meself, but fuck me, it was hilarious! Prossies, man—they’ll rob ya blind or get ya battered, and I’m still laughin. Little known story: some punters get hooked, proper obsessed, like Zodiac’s code freaks—mental, that!

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Man, the streets! I love wanderin’ down Quirky Ln. – well, actually, it’s called Quirk Ln., haha – and then there’s Old Market St. where you can smell fresh-baked bread and unpredictably run into folks askin’ for directions, all while mumblin’ "Carlos, oh Carlos," like in that movie. Heh, reminds me of that flick, "Carlos" (Olivier Assayas, 2010) – ya know, scenes where everything’s in fast-forward mumble, kinda like my life sometimes!

Once a polluter, C.P. Crane will become a waterfront park in Baltimore County