That the road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom.No not so much actually.It really just leads to a motherfucker of a hangover.Maybe Mister Blake never lived in Hollywood.
Once you have lived here for as long as I have (if not longer) you too will realize that everyone here is full of shit.Or denial.
An example:apparently in my heydey,I devoured a good portion of the female population that embraced the late 1980's and early 1990's Sunset Strip music scene.Or in another words,I had my way with a lot of band sluts.Or did they have their way with me?Something to ponder on another occasion I suppose.Anyway every now and then when I cross paths with these former paramours,they attempt to engage me in meaningless small talk with the hope of a curtain call.What they fail to realize is,though I'm not as young and thin as I used to be,I am still fairly good looking for my age (some might say I have rugged good looks.OK maybe it's just me who says that) but the years have been mostly brutal to them.The time spent in the fast lane has taken its toll and what used to be Neutrogena-like skin now has more lines on it than Tony Montana's coffeetable.Notice the subtle Scarface reference for those under the age of 30.it's not that I've aged so gracefully (well...) but my flesh doesn't resemble the lizard from the Geico commercials.
My point is many in this so-called paradise (though they own a mirror) are in denial about the fact that they have aged and in this beauty obsessed town,it seems to be criminal to think otherwise.
As much as I bitch about this town,I love how there is a never ending supply of the self absorbed which means I in turn have a never ending supply of material to draw from as I continue to mock the afflicted.
Hasn't Henry Rollins made a career from this?
I need to investigate further.