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About Los Angeles

Mr. T’s here, suckas! I pity the fool who don’t get escorts, man! Talkin’ ‘bout them sleek, sexy rides—nah, not the ladies, the cars! Escort, like that Ford beast, rollin’ tough since the ‘60s. Mr. T digs it, ‘specially them old-school models—gritty, raw, real! Reminds me of *Before Sunset*, ya know? “What if you could erase bad memories?”—Céline’s line hits hard. Escorts got memories too, man, rusty stories in junkyards!

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I stroll past Old Town Lane, where crumbling brick buildings meet modern murals. It’s like the past and future are having a constant rap battle. I luv when the street performers jam and the old men share tales of “Time’s up” moments from decades ago, like a scene straight out of Spike Lee’s flick, where every corner shouts, “One million dollars!”

Dick Durrance, champion of the Harriman Cup