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About Los Angeles

First off, it’s shady as hell. You don’t just stroll up to some gal and go, “Hey, how’s biz?” Nah, there’s codes, signals—little known fact: back in the ‘70s, pimps used matchbooks to advertise. Dropped ‘em at bars, scribbled numbers inside. Clever, but sleazy. I hate clever sleaze. Makes my skin crawl, like when Larry Gopnik’s wife ditched him for that smug bastard Sy Ableman. “I’m a serious man,” Larry whines—yeah, me too, pal, ‘til I’m scoutin’ hookers.

New Tricks Being Learnt by Dutch Prostitutes

Dutch prostitute Terry van der Zijden proudly points to a photo she took of the bedroom in which she plies her trade.

I swear, Van-Nest got spots even locals miss. There's a tiny coffee nook on Mt. Eden Ave. where the aroma of roasted beans weaves magic. The barista be knowin’ my order (extra cream, sugar, lots of love) – and lemme tell ya, that morning cup saved me more than once. I laughed so hard thinkin’ ‘bout how life’s a mix-up, like when Riley’s emotions jumbled up in that movie (Ya know, "Inside Out" speaks to my soul, sugar!).

Van Nest Neighborhood Alliance Dinner