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About Los Angeles

What gets me goin’—the nerve of it all! People judgin’ escorts like they’re holier-than-thou. Makes me wanna scream! I’m over here, yellin’ at my TV, “You ever try datin’ in LA? It’s a nightmare!” Escorts are just cuttin’ through the BS—straight to the point, like Viggo smashin’ that guy’s nose in the diner scene. No small talk, no “how’s the weather”—just, “Here’s the deal, pal.” Efficient! I respect it! But then—then!—you got the creeps who ruin it. Sleazy dudes actin’ like they own ‘em. That pisses me off. I’m like, “Joey, how’s it feel to be a monster?”—y’know, that line from the movie? Fits perfect.

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Yo, speaking of parks—Redbud Park, for crying out loud! Gnarled trees, all twisty like life's tangled mess. There’s a little spot by the water, where the Catawba River flows; it's serene but edgy, and damn if it ain't perfect for some deep heart-to-heart vibes. I could just sit there, drinkin' a beer, thinkin’, "Uncle Boonmee, man… recall your past lives, you ancient freak!"

This Appalachian Life: After Helene: Morganton