Fur balls and Eric Clapton

July 18, 2013

Dear Lucy,

I’m having a glass of Australian Malbec and listening to Derek and the Dominos (Eric Clapton, but you knew that).
Current song: Nobody loves you when you’re down and out.

I’ll leave that alone.

July in Venice Beach has been unbearable, the heat shows no mercy to fat people. Yes I know it’s cooler by the beach but I have no air conditioning and the taller building to the west blocks the ocean breeze. I also reside on the second floor and heat rises, not so much from the summer as from the early 20-something hot mess that lives below who stays up all night and enjoys sex fests at 3 and then at 4 in the morning. At least that’s when I hear her fake orgasms.

Anyways, I leave puddles of sweat from the bedroom to the bathroom. I’m dreading August in Los Angeles, and I don’t even want to think about September. Every year it’s record breaking heat here. I was on the NASA site and oh dear that Global Warming is wreaking something cruel and medieval on this country, and of course the world.

I hope I can get away up North soon.

Pepe’s well and I think he grew an inch. Then again that could be an illusion given by the clumps of fur he sheds every nano-second. Soon I’ll be coughing up fur balls as well. I can’t vacuum this home enough.

Anyways, it’ll be a night of design and photography videos and chillin’ with the handsome devil himself. Oh and another glass of Malbec to spite my mother who thinks I’m becoming an alcoholic.

Hope you are well and I’m glad to hear your door-to-door Avon business is the talk of the town. Go sister.

Regards n’ Maybelline,


A photo for ya:

Palm Trees, 2013 Venice Beach-4

Marina del Rey, CA 2013

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