Wonder why no one talks about the emotional ramifications from being sick, how a few days inside your apartment with nothing but time on your hands can lead to some dark thinking. Feel surprised by the immense sadness you felt while sipping your smoothie and watching Judge Judy alone in your bed, and be unable to recall the last time you ever felt that lonely and scared.
The first few weeks are great. You’re getting to know each other and everything seems so fresh and fun. You even have a “roomie bonding” night, which involves drinking too many margaritas and talking about shitty ex-boyfriends. “I’m really glad this worked out,” You slur to her after ingesting the second pitcher. “I have to admit I was a little apprehensive that this could be like Single White Female, but I can tell it won’t be.”
The success of The Cobra Snake not only spawned a new era of nightlife photography, but it was also largely responsible for the career of Internet wunderkind Cory Kennedy—a 16-year old hipster who was plucked from Santa Monica obscurity after pictures of her drunk and eating In-N-Out caused a virtual sensation.
Go to a coffee shop at 3:00 in the afternoon to apply for jobs and find it packed. Wonder how people actually make a living here. Everyone always talks about a new exciting project in the works and drives a BMW, but they’re still hanging out at Coffee Bean in the middle of the afternoon with nothing to do. Something isn’t quite right here.
I’m a bit of a whore, like many. But I’m not talking about the kind of whore – from either gender – who uses a busy street-corner after midnight, baiting clients with smooth or rusty marketing skills learned from the Do-It-Yourself School of Charm, nor the veteran from those corners who has learned to advertise who they are, into discreet information on business cards that directs potential costumers to their pimp’s phone number…
It is rainy and grey the morning her final email arrives, but the subject line, which reads “Hello, pushy cunt,” and the 626-word tirade within, are all the sunshine I need.
In the early 1990s, Daniel “Chaka” Ramos was one of the most prolific graffiti writers in Los Angeles. His block letter style tag (inspired by Cha-Kah from Land of the Lost), done almost exclusively in either black or silver spraypaint, was everywhere in L.A. and beyond.
A comprehensive, collectively-written list of the different types of people there are on the internet, written by Bebe Zeva, Leigh Alexander, Lesley Arfin, Ryan O’Connell, Kelley Hoffman, Tao Lin, Megan Boyle, Blake Butler, Gene Morgan, Brandon Scott Gorrell, Molly Young, Jimmy Chen, Joshua Lyon, Alex Blagg and more.
Clearing Stern of any wrongdoing closed the book on the scandalous life (and death) of Anna Nicole Smith, finally allowing her mourners to move on. I, for one, will never move on though. Smith’s drunken pilled-out spirit will continue to live on inside of me forever, thanks in no small part to an extensive collection of videos on YouTube.
She was immersed in things I’d only heard of before, like Debutantes, season tickets to the Orange County Performing Arts Center, new Volvo sedans, Pescetarianism, Whole Foods, art show openings, family alumni in Ivy League universities, famous relatives who were active or once active in the art world…