By the time you guys read this, and I say this with tears in my eyes (snik snik), I’ll be back home from LA and in my ghetto-fabulous apartment London.
I’ve been staying at my dad’s house in the Hollywood Hills for the past two weeks, attempting to change my skin color from looking like a corpse, to a golden bronze.
After baking in the sun, risking skin cancer, and blinding the neighbours with my constant nudity, I have managed the impossible. Are you ready for this? My body…is now the same color as my hair. So if you see what looks like a giant orange Strepsil walking around London getting a McDonalds, don’t be alarmed!
Apart from having to endure the painful experience of going to a gym in Hollywood, and being surrounded by various skinny blonde girls on treadmills, a sight which one could only describe as “chiuahuahas on speed”, I had a fantastic time out here.
Infact, I had such a great time that (I haven’t even told most of my friends this yet, so I hope you guys can keep a secret!) I’m going to be moving to LA this fall and stay for a few months to live and work in the land of stars and eternal sunshine.
Seeing as I’ve already got a greencard/visa because I’m an American citizen, all that’s left to do is find an apartment – easy right? WRONG.
All I’m going to say is, so far I’ve encountered a very short, perverted landlord with only young girls in his house and a few too many Porsche’s (I wonder what he’s trying to make bigger...) , and an offer of a room free of charge by an overweight 44 year old woman as long as I “dominate her, treat her like a slave, and abuse her”.
I politely declined.
The hunt for an apartment in the city of angels continues…
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