The 110 can be a demanding mistress. I know what makes her nipples hard. I tickle the carpool lane at 68 knots. A balloon with a wig on it floats in the passenger seat. Every so often I turn and move my lips. Works like Alka-Seltzer.
Venice! Home of muscles and sea smells. Where the streets are so narrow you have to double-park your tricycle. A guy once came up to me and said “Hey man do you have stigmata?!” and I said “No, I just walked down an alley in Venice.” We both laughed.
November makes me horny. I don’t think it’s the turkey. There’s something in the air, it’s the smell of bread and asparagus and pine cones. It’s the smell of Los Feliz. And Los Feliz is as Los Angeles as you can be without getting points on your record.
I hate Halloween. It’s totally commercial now. It’s like the middle of April and you’re already seeing ads for Halloween. I’m sick of it.
Before I launch feet-first into a review that should dazzle and bewilder all my readers and fans, I need to address some issues from a few people who–while they may be readers–are definitely not fans. Unless you mean ceiling fans, because they seek to blow their hot convective current of opinion on my articles from above. (Nice one DeMarco. Thanks DeMarco.)