LA architecture often looks like the broken omelets I make…like some version of anti-matter.
My bar would be called “The Good Novel.” Debutantes would stumble in late, as would married women with money problems.
I’ve always told my son: “Love is like Salisbury steak. You don’t see it much anymore. But you know it’s still out there somewhere.”
LA never wowed me the way it wows some folks. Instead, it hooked me with a thousand little revelations.
Meet Catty Cakes, who drinks her lunch and loves her grandpa.
He started a sonic revolution, cheering on batters with the indecipherable growl of an abandoned dog.
“The cure for anything is salt water": Gloom till noon, sun by 1.
Lovers don’t really come alive till they’re kissed, and so it is with California
Yep, that’s an In-N-Out burger. Yep, I made it at home. My greatest influence as a writer? Calvin & Hobbes. Like them, my cheeky goal is to make language “a complete impediment to understanding.” You know, like Twitter. That’s why I continue to verb some nouns and noun some verbs. Soon, I also hope to … Continue reading Carpe Eat ‘Em
I couldn’t resist brushing my thumb against the softness of her brow. Next to hers, my skin looks like Russian farm land.