Stories tagged los-angeles

Manure

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Everyday outside of the student union there must’ve been a new guy promising a free subscription if only you’d apply for his credit card. All it took was a signature and an address, and then they’d send you a Visa, a MasterCard, even a fucking Disco

The Color of Faith

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My best friend Khaled’s idea was, he’d set up a pool tournament. Nine-ball. Each church would send a player, and whichever church won, he’d join. Any church that wouldn’t shoot pool, he wouldn’t want to join.

Bromancing the Stone

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This plethora of fucks didn't strike me as very YA, but what do I know? I grew up in Texas where we don't let Young Adults read books with cuss words in them.

Who Wants To Be A Celebrity?

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I love reading about myself. There's nothing more gratifying than seeing my name in the paper and knowing so many people are interested in who I am and what I do, no matter how trivial or mundane. It reconfirms my being on this strange world and the path

Just A Girl

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“You guys!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I hissed to my friends. They were busy discussing the merits of arugula salad. “What is it?” Sally asked. “It's Gwen-fucking-Stefani!!!!” “Where?” “The table behind us. DON'T look now!” Of course San

The Celebrity

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I love reading about myself. There's nothing more gratifying than seeing my name in the paper, knowing so many people are interested in who I am and what I do.

A Love Letter to Norwich, England

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The number 25 double-decker bus threads its way through the narrow two-lane streets. Coughing and burping without a hint of embarrassment, it carries us from the train station, with its cheerful round clockface and neat front of red brick, over the weepin

ash

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Years later, I found a map in my brother’s lonely apartment in L.A. “Bury me here,” he instructed in a scrawl on a map he had drawn of Woodlawn Cemetery.

Moving to Los Angeles

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JOE and LIS love baseball and attend a Dodger game.

Grocery Deliveries

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I was shooting baskets in the driveway when the Mexican kid delivered the groceries. He drove in fast and loud . . .

Los Angeles in Pieces

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Downtown Los Angeles An Ethiopian girl at the bar with a black tear tattooed beneath her eye. A Japanese business man outside in squid ink blue, upright like anger. A Mexican VHS shop, plastic wrap glossy with Jesus of Nazareth as…

Uncanny Valley, Goodbye

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When not enough is left to utterThe syllables it takes to say,Goodbye--Disassembled and developed,Laid upon the ground,Like the girded gridlockOn your smog befitted brow...Goodbye.And what if I said, hello?What if I said, good day?Would it change your sunken bodyAnd repair…

Traumathurge

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From Berlin to Arcturus. I squeeze Sevigny’s wrist, wish Izzy could be here, but she’s melting salt in Utah. We were on our way to Los Angeles. I’ve booked the horror room.

Bukowski and Me

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I like to think of Bukowski and meknocking back beers in some downtown LA bar, Buk telling me some tale of ordinary madness (“Man, you shoulda seen the big old ass on her, I loved to hang onto it while we fucked.”) as I stare, nodding, at…

The Stars in Illinois

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Only early June, but the heat feels like August. Eleanor and Shelby sit on the front steps of the old Victorian-style house in downtown Los Angeles, drinking homemade margaritas and watching the daylight drain away to dusk. Shelby slaps a mosquito away fr