Sometimes perfect days creep up on you. You go about things, daily things, and unexpected moments pop up. The weather wants you to fall in love, all the people who live in your city decide to stay home and out of your way and then before you know it, it's the end of the day. You find yourself having a cocktail over looking the pacific ocean while listening to part 4 of that 27 part song about being in a closet and you think, "Wow, what a perfect day."
Then there's other days. Days you wake up and say, I'm gonna blow off life and head on down to the beach club. Next thing you know your playing a little frisbee with Ryan O'Neal, watching budding starlets express themsleves all over each other, then crack open your 14th can of Tecate and watch the sun set while tending the teriyaki chicken skewers roasting on the BBQ.
At some point in the middle of Perfect Day Number 2, I realized, Los Angeles is just like anywhere else in the country. Granted, people in Witchita aren't swimming naked with super models at the Roosevelt, or watching dolphins do double back flip gainer thingy's while having lunch. But they are having lunch. And hell. All roads lead to LA. Soon all those peeps in Wichita will be out here. The cute ones, at least. So I'm gonna help. For starters, I'm going to give people the inside scoop on the good and the bad and ugly of LA. Though, I'll tell you right now. There's nothing bad or ugly about the dream factory. Worse case, you end up in some sort of Star 80 scenario. But even that would be cool.
Anyway, if I find something, I'll let you know. If I don't... I tell you something funny my kid said. He's always saying the darndest things.