30/06: Welcome to My Blog
This is a smog blog, not a snog blog, not like those chicks who blog about their pervy escapades.
Just click on 'Smog Blog' over there on the left and off ya go.
I never kept a diary growing up, lest I went back and read it and wanted to burn it, therefore accidentally setting myself on fire.
Blogging is fine because you can do it under an assumed name. It's like being a dancer in one of those mirrored rooms, where you can see yourself, but you can see out, but people can see in- like the one that was at Deep before it turned into Bisque and got super gay and then totally burned down.
This account is named so because I currently live in LA.
I am one of those people who complain about it all the time. Yet I'm here. I'm one of those. LA is the last major English speaking city. I've already given years to New York City and London. What next? I am consigned to move in a couple of years. Anne Rice moved to LA. eek.
I lived for four years in DeMille Manor on Argyle Avenue right in the middle of Hollywood. It's a Spanish style old Hollywood apartment building. I was told by my old neighbor there that a girl went nuts and jumped off the three story building from the roof. There are balconies on one side over looking the pool.
Now I've moved to valley. Dun dun. It's interesting. It has all the makings of a David Lynch movie.
I tried going for a hike only to have some bicyclists in red spandex and some aerodynamic helmet yell: "Fuckers" at me and my companions. That's LA for you. So much for exercising to de-stress yourself. I don't like the sun or bugs anyway. Trees and the beach are ok though.
Ah- LA. It's also where old ladies drop the door on you at the post office and try to race you to the counter at the fabric store, thus reclaiming their righful place when they thought they still had a chance at being the next big engenue in 62.
Also, Smog is good to listen to. Smog- pre-Bonnie Prince Billy, - post Deliverance. Bathesphere is a great lil tune.
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