Los Angeles, you are hilarious, and I am so glad I don't live in you. Wacky hijinks ensued, although nothing up to Vegas' standard. (It's hard to beat a hot tub full of Swedes.) Still, there was a Mexican tranny/hipster bar, an identical copy of a place I hang out in here, a funny, funny party in the hills, and the Museum of Jurassic technology. And some sunglasses of truth. And reminding myself of something I haven't forgotten. My favorite what-if.
Los Angeles, I don't like you at all, but I love the people that I already know in you and all of the ones that I met. I needed a weekend out of town without having to work at the No Feelings plan, and I got that alright. Getting out of town is the greatest.
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