To Live and Love In L.A.
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
He’s back. In this follow-up to the acclaimed TO LIVE AND DRINK IN L.A., Shawn Michals, notorious imbiber of life and cocktails, returns to tackle a subject that has both inspired and confounded some of the greatest thinkers throughout history: LOVE. TO LIVE AND LOVE IN L.A. tracks Shawn as he navigates the amorous waters of a city teeming with both angels and devils. These passionate adventures involve fellow artists, wild ones, and even an encounter with a would-be zombie. Along the way, Shawn is questioned about everything from his sanity to his sexuality to his advice on how to seduce a cougar (or vice- versa). While indulging in this romantic odyssey, Shawn begins to question whether he will ever find "The One." After all, falling in love and accepting love involves not only a healthy degree of courage, but also sometimes a healthy degree of craziness. Feeling courageous? Feeling crazy? Chances are you’ll fall in love with this book. Here’s looking at you, kid… "Revelatory... entertaining and engaging..." - Publishers Weekly
I closed the door softly, then retired to my rocking chair and began to talk to myself. Then I told myself to shut the fuck up because I had some thinking to do. I’d consulted a counselor a few years back, after my first DUI. We’d discussed the difference between “heavy drinkers” and “alcoholics.” Heavy drinkers could drink and still function. The Rat Pack, William Faulkner, Dr. Hunter S. Thompson, who knows how many assorted strippers, lawyers, and professional gamblers… the list seemed
that a visit might confirm the fact I’m growing older and still have no idea what to do with my life. Then, like a lightning strike, I receive an email from the man I’ve spent the past two years trying to immortalize as a character on par with Tom Sawyer or Jay Gatsby: Shawn Michals. His subject line itself is combative; it even is “in regards” to an email I don’t even recall sending. But rather than an insult it reads more like a lure, a dare that tempts one to start a new chapter. So here we
but never his trousers. Ha ha. A writer such as myself would never allow such an inconsistency in any television show I wrote for. Sure, one could say that the reason the Hulk’s pants never ripped was because a network show couldn’t allow a green monster’s dick to come flopping out to be viewed by a television audience on Friday nights. But a true artist, I considered, would never allow that kind of censorship— There came the bark of a dog, an abrupt illumination of a porchlight, and what
of stuff is HUGE to me. I have a little soft heart that melts and gets all gooey gooey really easily. You should know that! That kind of offense is the type that makes me want to come and bend you over and violate you! I HATE YOU! 8/12/10 9:43 P.M. When I said I hate you I really meant that I love you to pieces and SCHMIECES. I wish my love was enough to draw you out of your shell you old troll. LOVE, Nicki. (The above emails were in relation to when I didn’t call Nicki that first night.
your floor’s number. By the time Ariel and I were ascending up to our session, it felt more like we were going to discuss an arms treaty rather than the role anal sex played in our relationship. Dr. Stewart’s name was emblazoned in silver characters on a ridged brown sign beside a door that opened with an easy motion as though it were exhaling a breath. Inside there was yet another doorway, this one with a button beside her name. Kitty corner to this final entrance-way was a clock built of brick