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About Los Angeles

Spirited Away, my fave, yeh? That bathhouse—stinks like escort gigs sometimes! All them spirits, payin’ for a scrub, a wink—same diff, innit? “What’s happening? What’s happening?!” I’d yelp, seein’ her dodge coppers like Haku dodgin’ spells. Clever lass, she was—worked corners nobody knows. Fact: some escorts in old Japan? Geishas gone rogue, mate! Not all fancy dances—some sold more, hush-hush like.

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The room was big, nice and clean. Had everything that was needed. But the biggest downfall was the smell of weed in the hall way right away.

Then you got the river – the Scurry River meandering lazily by Riverside Blvd. Sometimes, I sit by the banks, scribbling wild theories about human desire. The river’s like a mirror for the city’s pulsating heart. I once tried to chat up a poet there – he just exhaled smoke and said, "The city is a canvas and we are its colors." I nearly fell over laughing.

Fort Cavazos courthouse evacuated as court-martial begins for sergeant accused of serial rapes on post