Raining
Actual weather in Los Angeles is a rare and magical event, and right now out the window is visible the most splish-splashy grey phantasmagoria that an Angeleno could hope for shy of another El Nino.
It pours off of rooftops and rainslicks the oil from the roadways. Tee-shirted hipsters are forced to wear coats or stay indoors. The babies! It's called weather, and I say we may as well enjoy it while we got it.
As much as I may be tempted to explain where all I have been, and what all I've been up to in my absence from these darkened digital corridors, perhaps its safer not to. I have been on an unpleasant journey of self-discovery, plumbing the depths of my darker psychic realms the likes of which even Steve Ditko's Doctor Strange would cringe at the mere imagining of. I'm coming back...
It pours off of rooftops and rainslicks the oil from the roadways. Tee-shirted hipsters are forced to wear coats or stay indoors. The babies! It's called weather, and I say we may as well enjoy it while we got it.
As much as I may be tempted to explain where all I have been, and what all I've been up to in my absence from these darkened digital corridors, perhaps its safer not to. I have been on an unpleasant journey of self-discovery, plumbing the depths of my darker psychic realms the likes of which even Steve Ditko's Doctor Strange would cringe at the mere imagining of. I'm coming back...