If The World Was a Fair Place Then We'd All See Through This Rose Coloured Lens

I have a three minute conversation every time i share my address:
"Yes, I'm serious, I live on Stoner Ave mom... No, I'm not kidding... No, I didn't choose it, I hate stoners... Yes, it's seriously my address..." and on. I wish it were fairydust lane. I've come home to helicopters circling my block numerous times - a common l.a. occurance - but it makes it incredibly difficult to get to work on time when your next-door neighbor, the head of the Culver City Boys gang, is splattered across the sidewalk two cars away from yours.

I've never met, nor spoken to a single person in my neighborhood with the exception of my roommate and my landlord the day i moved in two years ago. No, that's not an exaggeration. I like my block except for the school bells ringing as I'm trying to sleep and the fleet of motor homes that has been parked in front of my building for the past 7 months.

And I like listening to Bloc Party too... usually with my bff anna (who has two blocks, each much nicer than mine). She's never
actually been to my block. I have trouble with brevity.

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