I'm spiritual now, apparently
My new motto is 'Get the fuck out of my way.' If you're not making other people's lives better, keep it moving. (This is literally the most spiritual thing I've ever said on the Internet). It's honest though. If you're a mess get away from me. Crazy is contagious.
I had a grown uppy vacation in Mexico last week. I only have photos from Camille Irina and my cellphone so far, so I'll post those soonly. Party Time James is holding some epic photos hostage in his camera. Must hi-jack. Can someone go to Max Fish and grab his memory card and send to me? I WISH I WAS JOKING.
Being around Lysa Cooper for a week straight will change your life. She's already an inspiration to thousands of people, but being in her world for a week on the beach was like hanging with a hot Yoda. While I'm waiting for all those pics to come in, let's talk about my weekends in Venice for a moment. I go to Lysa's beach house every Fri and come back Sunday night. Pretty much just lay out in the sun, eat at Gjelina for dinner, or veg out and go to the beach whenever possible.
The last few weekends have been spent at Venice Beach Wines watching the World Cup. Ladies, if you are not currently tethered to a boyfriend, this is where you should hang. Its actually kind of bananas. Nearly EVERY MAN IN LA wears some ridiculous item of clothing or footwear that renders them moot. Fedoras, cheesy jeans, all that shit (unless they live in Silverlake or Echo Park in which case they all dress like a Devendra Banhart/Cisco Adler mashup).
But these beach boys are all hot, seemingly normal, stylish dudes who are LOW KEY. I don't know how Venice has such a huge stash of smoking hot babes, but I'm telling you they are goddamn everywhere. They're equally as fly as those girls on vintage bikes who ride around Brooklyn and the Lower East Side in the summer. I LOVE THEM. Moving along, here is the only pic you need of Venice Beach:
I had a grown uppy vacation in Mexico last week. I only have photos from Camille Irina and my cellphone so far, so I'll post those soonly. Party Time James is holding some epic photos hostage in his camera. Must hi-jack. Can someone go to Max Fish and grab his memory card and send to me? I WISH I WAS JOKING.
Being around Lysa Cooper for a week straight will change your life. She's already an inspiration to thousands of people, but being in her world for a week on the beach was like hanging with a hot Yoda. While I'm waiting for all those pics to come in, let's talk about my weekends in Venice for a moment. I go to Lysa's beach house every Fri and come back Sunday night. Pretty much just lay out in the sun, eat at Gjelina for dinner, or veg out and go to the beach whenever possible.
The last few weekends have been spent at Venice Beach Wines watching the World Cup. Ladies, if you are not currently tethered to a boyfriend, this is where you should hang. Its actually kind of bananas. Nearly EVERY MAN IN LA wears some ridiculous item of clothing or footwear that renders them moot. Fedoras, cheesy jeans, all that shit (unless they live in Silverlake or Echo Park in which case they all dress like a Devendra Banhart/Cisco Adler mashup).
But these beach boys are all hot, seemingly normal, stylish dudes who are LOW KEY. I don't know how Venice has such a huge stash of smoking hot babes, but I'm telling you they are goddamn everywhere. They're equally as fly as those girls on vintage bikes who ride around Brooklyn and the Lower East Side in the summer. I LOVE THEM. Moving along, here is the only pic you need of Venice Beach:
TRUE
PS- my friend told me she WITNESSED Chad Ochocinco sucking his thumb curled up in a fetal position one night. She bolted up in disbelief and asked him, "Chad, are you sucking your thumb?" to which he replied "HOW YOU GONNA QUESTION THE BLACK MEXICAN?" Short Story by Aviva Yael.
xo
xo