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About Los Angeles

So, picture this—I’m cruisin’, late night, curious as hell. Not judgin’, nah, just watchin’. You ever notice how it’s always the quiet corners? Little known fact—back in the ‘80s, Times Square was crawlin’ with ‘em, prostitutes everywhere, before Giuliani swept it clean. Now? Ya gotta dig, man. Apps, alleys, whispers—whole damn world’s gone sneaky. Makes me mad, tho—why’s it gotta be so shady? Ain’t it just folks livin’?

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A web application where I can type in an item's name and it would spit out what Spindown Dice would give me.

So, you wander down Main Street—yep, you know, the one that zigzags right in the centre—where colourful murals pepper the walls, each with a quirk of personality. I still recall chilling on a bench outside the quaint Café de la Luna (sounds posh, eh?) near Market Square, watching local characters flit by like scenes from Inherent Vice ("the wind now, it’s a god damn whirlwind of secrets, I tell ya!") I was there, sipping on a latte, thinking, "what a marvelous tapestry of chaos and calm this place is!"

Carol Sue Wilson