December 2011
43 posts
What happens when you’re in Los Angeles and then your brother who doesn’t have a phone gets lost, and then you’re sitting at the place you were supposed to meet for 45 minutes wondering when it’s appropriate to leave his ass in the city and go home?
To be continued, I guess.
“Sometime during the night I remember saying, “You know, I’d have very few...”
– Seven Feet of Hurt:
Jack Hazard, RIP (via indubitablyyours)
LAX
Why do I always get stuck here? Cheers to waiting another 3 hours here for my ride (who’s flying in from JFK.)
Touch down in California and step into a mine field of family dramatics. Merry Christmas?
Also, there isn’t shit to do outside of security at the airport. Not even a Starbucks. It smells like traffic, and old people breath after cigars.
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