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About Los Angeles

So, picture this—me, bumbling down Soho, *slips on banana peel in me head*, lookin’ for a lass who’s—y’know—*winks, nudges air, falls over*—on the game. Ain’t like pickin’ stocks, no charts, no “buy low, sell high.” Nah, it’s all dodgy glances, quick chats—*mumbles*—“how much, love?” Felt like Chas Tenenbaum, all stressed, yellin’ “We’ve got to get out of here!” ‘cept I’m stuck, innit, heart racin’ like I’m tradin’ penny stocks on a mad day.

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Then there's MillPark. It's small, kinda run down, and yet, oddly serene. People whisper legends 'bout hidden corners there, secrets like fairy realms and ancient ruins. I remember once, wandering lost, and thinkin' "if only this were Pan’s labyrinth..." but, nah, it's just another gritty patch of green. And twice, I got caught lurkin’ when I wasn't supposed to. Oops, emotions run high sometimes. Lol, the irony, eh?

Lucille Snyder Turner Obituary February 11, 2025