in this neighborhood ,people drive montecarlos with nicer rims than their entire apartments. they sit in their deeply discounted SUV's and watch satellite TV. in that part of town, be extremely mindful that you aren't wearing any purple. if you accidentally step on your IPOD charger and need to go to the neighborhood where the Mac store is located, be prepared to be assaulted by Bruce Hornsby singing 'every little kiss' or something equally awful in speakers all throughout the plaza.

as an experiment, i once rode my bike around different bad neighborhoods just to see who would shoot me first.....

i rode past the Mexicans and they said to me

"oye guera el mundo es un barrio y la vida es loca"

and i said, yeah i know

i kept on going and i passed by the blacks. and they said

"wuzzup my nigga!"

no. they didn't actually say that

i passed by the Chinese i have no idea what they were saying but they threw a star at me

no. they didn't. we don't even have a Hard Rock Cafe or Chinatown here

unable to roll up my windows and lock the car door to keep the aids out of the car, i daringly bicycled through the gay district. they jumped up and down and screamed like giddy little girls while they waved pink triangle and rainbow flags at me and said:

"you go girl!"

you're probably catching on at this point, that didn't happen ether.

The day the narcocorridos died and the gangster rap stopped thumping I found myself underneath a very large automobile. It was a Cadillac driven by an 87 year old woman named Mildred. She smelled like dove soap and baby powder and in spite of her severe dementia and milky cataracts, her license was renewed by mail.