Image courtesy of Oliver Peoples.
First, put this song on and take your clothes off. I'm #NAKEDinPUBLIC.
- To the residents of Silverlake, Los Feliz, Atwater Village and the even trendier East-of-East Side of LA, here's a tip: Just because someone fixes your shower doesn't mean they like/love you. It just means they love taking showers at your place after you guys fuck.
- But, if a dude writes a song about you....Well, that's a different story all together.
- Which reminds me, if you want to write about love and sex and guts on the internet, this is a free country. Just be prepared to start receiving unsolicited comments regarding how you should feel about yourself. You will probably also start receiving unsolicited dinner invitations.
- Hey, free dinner. You're a grown-up. You'll figure it out.
- I know you're an adult and everything, but once in a while, you should call your mother. Like, say, after a new pope is selected. That will be the PERFECT time to tell her that you're currently interviewing hookers for your work. Also, you may have to be prepared to end the conversation when she brings up your grandmother's internet tendency.
- Speaking of Catholicism, if your 83 year-old Italian grandmother learns how to google you, I refuse to be held responsible for the outcome.
- And while we're discussing the internet, let's be real for a moment. If you're reading this blog, you are probably not a "tech nerd." There is sexy talk over here. That makes real nerds nervous/awkward. Don't be nervous/awkard.
- Correct me if I'm wrong here, but working at a startup and/or scheduling tweets do not count as technical skills.
- Plus, your manicure will chip every time you try to write Ruby. This is Los Angeles, and it's time we all went back to being vapid fame whores.
- By the way, I really wish Lindsay Lohan were relevant (in a tragic way) again. It's hard to make jokes about pregnant Kim Kardashian. Someone step up to the plate. Kristen Stewart, looking at you.
We are watching the end-game of humanity, Los Angeles. I hope you have popcorn.
P.S. New York City, call me.