13 fortune cookies

Virginia shot me and kicked me out of her car—a little awkward, since she had to unbuckle my seatbelt first. I hit the pavement on my elbow, and my funny bone wouldn’t shut up about it. I coughed blood, tasted

to live and die in L.A.

In Tibet, there are no words for low self-esteem. In Los Angeles, there are enough to pave the streets. There are plenty to describe hubris, too, for many come to revise themselves. The challenge of residency then is neither worshipping