Los Angeles is superficial, plastic and damn proud of it. It's glitz and tits and if you aren't blonde, twenty-three years old, six feet tall, and one hundred twenty pounds, you really shouldn't even bother moving there. I lived in LA for many years but I had to leave. They actually sent me an eviction notice once I passed the one hundred twenty five pound mark. Seriously, I wanted to live in a place where I could breathe the air, drink water out of the tap and not be mocked because I don't look like a Somali orphan. Thus starts my journey through the worst economic downturn in recent memory where every single thing has happened to me. Join me on my wild ride filled with more laughs, strange sights and killer squirrels than you can shake a stick at.