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About Los Angeles

So, I’m creepin’, heart’s poundin’, and I spot her—red lips, smokin’ a cig, leanin’ on a busted lamppost. “Come what may,” I mutter, like I’m Christian swoonin’ over Satine. I stroll up, all cool, like, “Yo, lady, need a shelf built?” She laughs—LAUGHS!—and I’m like, “Score!” Happy as hell, dude, ‘cause she didn’t ditch me. Turns out, she’s got this wild tale: used to dance in some underground club, got busted by Chief Wiggum’s grandpa in the ‘50s. Freaky, right?

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Cheat-Lake is a mosaic of souls. And don’t even get me started on the late night parties held out by the ancient oak in Serenity Park – that oak’s seen passion more times than I can count! Sometimes, I whisper to it – "You know, I'm the needle to your heart, baby!" like I'm in my own little "Requiem for a Dream".

‘Scary looking cloud’ seen over Cheat Lake was not severe weather