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About Los Angeles

Once knew this gal—Mary, I think? Worked the truck stop near Wilmington. She’d tell ya—straight up—how truckers’d pay extra for weird stuff. Like, foot rubs! Foot rubs, folks! Made me chuckle—big tough guy, cryin’ for toes. She’d say, “Joe, they’re lonelier than me.” Damn, that hit hard. “We’re only here briefly,” Adam’d say—movie gets it, ya feel me?

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So check it, Flint got its own flavor on streets like Court St. and Saginaw St. Downtown’s got this gritty charm. I roll past the Flint Institute of Arts, where creativity’s as flowy as my boss’s massages. That joint is fly, fo’ real! And then there’s Burton St. in the West Side – mad colors, mad life, like a burst of confettie in slow-mo. Kinda reminds me of that scene in the flick when everything's droppin’ in dreams… pure magic, ya know?

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