It's back! Wayne Robbins is a filmmaker, late of Los Angeles.

Postcard from Los Angeles

Dear Jared,

Please note that as of the date of this dispatch, the pipeline from New York to Los Angeles has officially been closed from the LA side. Sorry! You missed the window and we’re not industrious enough out here to remember how to re-open the damn thing.

Fakes, fires, sushi, porn stars, liars and sunshine. What more can you really ask for? (Answer: Work) ...Since I left NYC for Gloss Angeles oh-so-many-moons ago, I have learned several things about people: 1) they do not like the truth; 2) they will turn off the porch light if you come to their house in need but will whip up margaritas if it’s them that needs; and 3) if someone else wants it, then so do they.

In the cage match of the century that is NYC versus LA, one thing is for certain, the former will fight you just to get in the ring and the second will cancel at the last minute. But at least here you can still get a good burger at ******** [Editor’s note: Redacted so as to not Corner Bistro the only place I have left]. Shhh, don’t tell anyone...

The gloom in June sends you to your doom. So they say. Say that one ten times fast...

Oh, and I can see the Sign from my balcony. A balcony is a thing that attaches to the outside of your home (generally more than one room out here) on which you can stand and see trees. Trees are tall, nature-ish, wooden thingys that stick out of the ground... Ground is something that’s below pavement...

...Would the last one out of NYC, please bring me Ben’s Pizza?

Yours in Sciento... er... Kabbal... er... Oh what the hell, Jack and Coke!

-Wayne

P.s. Say hello to Godfrey, Ryan, Rob, Dylan, Roderick and Hoover...

P.s.s. Lindsay Lohan just got hit by a paparazzo in front of my house. That never happened at 71 Thompson Street. Yeah right. “It wasn’t me.”