I Love L.A.—Not Really
It occurred to me the other day that I have absolutely no pictures of my world in L.A. Scratch that—I actually have three pictures that document my time in L.A. They were all taken on my Sidekick so they’re super grainy, but I find them totally representative of my life here.
I pass this vehicular beauty every day when I park on the fifth floor of The Arclight. I’m not sure if you can see this, but it’s a stretch Cadillac limo convertible—and when I say “convertible,” I mean “some jack-ass cut the roof off his car and covered it with a table cloth.” It doesn’t show up here, but the soft top is actually made of a faux Louis Vuitton logo fabric. Classy.
I almost hit the car when I was attempting to take this picture. Luckily, I was able to snap it before I snapped my neck in an auto accident.
It took me a couple minutes to figure out what was wrong with this car, but when I did, my heart kind of broke a little bit. Take a hot sec and see if you can find what’s horribly wrong with this image. (Hint: I just hope a small child isn’t under there, too.)