Really? Name-dropping existentialist philosophers in a camera phone pic? Who does that?
Call me a hater, but Sasha Grey is starting to bug me.
Her dead eyes bug me. The fact that she doesn’t smile bugs me. Her pretentious hipster fans who claim pseudo-intellectual pornographic high-ground because their favorite porn star is smug rather than bubbly — they all bug me.
I realize this is probably sacrilege, but so be it.
I’ve always been mildly annoyed by people who don’t know the difference between being serious and taking themselves seriously.
Purveyor of odd media at it’s best, I believe this is the first time filmmaker David Lynch has shown paintings in LA in over a decade.
SoCal Solvency
- 1: ...just as long as you don't fuck loudly in my apartment.
- 2: No can do. You've made this bed, now I have to fuck loudly in it.
- 1: Touche.
Every Friday night at Catch One, goth it up with the gothiest of the goths in LA. Don’t worry, it’s a dance club, so no one’s going to whip you. Mostly they’ll dress like vampires and look angsty. If you really wanna get ahead of the curve, dress up as a mummy. Mummies are cool. They control beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees.
Interested in Drinking in a Brothel?
So am I! If you’re into bizarre, suprisingly tasteful burlesque, STRONG drinks, and more vaudevillian counter-culture than you can handle sober, there’s one place in LA definitely worth checking out: The Bordello Bar.
we have tons of robots in LA. Seriously.
Screenwriter’s Blues
Exits to freeways twisted like knots on the fingers;
Jewels cleaving skin between breasts
Your Cadillac breathes four hundred horses over blue lines
You are going to Reseda to make love to a model from Ohio
Whose real name you don’t know
