Wings to the City of Angels
California—back to where it all began. Think about it: covered wagons, women on display, intelligence tested with a measuring tape. Hollywood shines like a beacon. Fire hydrants overflow with sparkling water. In a bathtub, a 14-carat ring tells tales of past glamour. And here comes California Post starting Monday.
Is it a significant moment? Exquisite? Wealthy? It seems that way. Their fur is of the mink variety. And as for wallets? They’re classified as carry-on luggage. Welcome to the realm of the Dow Jones Industrial Average at a high school level.
Agriculture? Well, perhaps that’s a stretch. Flowers were meant for the likes of Marilyn Monroe, Elizabeth Taylor, Hedy Lamarr, and others. Few are born in a California stable; those are reserved for Aston Martin.
Ava Gardner—was she prepared for life? In Grubtown, North Carolina, she hastily exchanged a luxurious Rolls for something more grounded: Sinatra.
So, what’s the deal with California’s fondness for the New York Post? It’s like an old flame that knows just what to do. Large stories, flashy cars, and they hit the mark. It really caters to their desires, knows the hows and whens.
And speaking of discovery, let’s not forget gold. It wasn’t just about shiny teeth or contracts. In 1849, hopeful miners flocked to Sutter’s Mill with pots in hand. A futile quest. If only women had pursued those men who owned Amazon.
California? Absolutely marvelous! It’s grand, sunny, and prestigious. Hollywood to Los Angeles, Sacramento to San Francisco, and beyond. The list goes on—big trees, big buildings, some even paid off. Sure, they grow apricots and almonds and all sorts. Need money? Just ask a neighbor. Want a little something for the aging ego? Beverly Hills has you covered.
So, why does the New York Post want to venture west? Because Californians seem to have money to burn, and it costs less than gas.
Ever wonder how Ms. Pelosi entered the state with nothing and emerged a billionaire? I’m just eavesdropping.
People often romanticize California. I remember, when it was suggested, I voted for Montana instead. Heard people there can actually read. Had to make the font larger. Notable figures like Gary Cooper and Michelle Williams were born there but ended up in California. And, oddly enough, Bo Diddley’s real name was Osa Bates.
California showcases everything from Rolls Royce tricycles to Gucci Christmas trees. It’s full of palms, sunshine, swimming pools, divorce lawyers, and actors with classic names. Merge Toroid Jr. doesn’t quite fit in.
It’s “haha” land
A newcomer in LA boasts: “My house has 50 rooms and an 18-hole golf course.” His friend inquires, “internal What about home?”
“I feel guilty. I just cheated on my wife,” laments the astonished new resident, taken aback by the Hollywood scene. His friend presses, “How many times?” He grumbles, “How would I know? I’m an editor, not an accountant.”
Two amateur hunters wandered into California’s wild lands. They stumbled across a sign that read, “Keep left.” So they headed back home.
To all my friends—welcome to California. Rent prices are as high as an elephant’s eye, and so are skirt lengths. And for the love of everything, don’t ask a local, “What wine pairs best with Alpo?”
It’s just LA, folks, just LA.
