All the Filth That’s Fit to Print and Smutty Journalism

Sal and I worked a shall we say unique beat. We covered the seedy and salty side of our fair, gritty city. Los Angeles, the “City of Angels” it ain’t. What it is is a gutter filled with filthy animals that crawl out at night to do their sullen business, and indulge their fallen cravings. They say the word “Abomination” means furthest removed from God and the City of Angels is exactly that. Tinsel town and Hollywood fueled this hot mess, and made it gritty.

A place in the high desert, once populated by orange and lemon groves, farming, ranching and oil fields is now a sewer for every form of filth that ever slimed out of a shitpit.

Sal was a pro at getting information and setting up the money shots. Me? Armed with a Graflex and some film packs, I’m ready to go. Bulbs in my pocket are packed in tissue paper to keep them from clanking around and scaring off Sal’s prey.

[MF] True Private Detective.

It was a long, disgusting day. You know the usual shit married people get into. In this case it was the wife looking to corner the husband. Turned out he was giving blowjobs at a glory hole somewhere in East L.A.

My apartment building has no fucking parking lot. And they sweep the street on Tuesdays so if your car ain’t outta there by 8 am, you get a fat ticket and a fatter fine slapped on your windshield by a fat, greasy parking cop, with a stupid ego the size of Montana and a brain to match the size of a pinhead.

The car gets parked 3 blocks away at a parking lot where you get charged up to 30 bucks a day to stash your beater. Worse part is, you have to load all your crap into a rollerboard and shlepp it on down to your crib, cuz the freakazoids hanging out near the lot will smash your windshield for the pocket change in the ashtray.

As I’m hauling my crap on to that wreck we call a home, likely to my own cheating wife, a phone rings nearby. “Lo and behold! Do I hear a pay phone?” A once ubiquitous object, scurrilously close to the curb, and within earshot of a bus stop any bus stop, this phone happened to be farther back.