Home is where… the… where exactly?

Festive season is over in LA, so charity is waning, the traffic is picking up, and winter is truly setting in, as much as it ever does in LA… kinda makes the city feel bearable for the relatively rich. I don’t EVEN earn minimum wage as in 8 hours a day, 5 days a week. I muddle by on three-four days a week, maybe 12 hours a day… maybe not quite as bad as $9 an hour all the time.

But these guys, who live under the bridge on the way to my boyfriend’s house, they keep my grateful for the hours i do work, and my little apartment. And since I drive past there about three times a week, I see them all regularly, and I have a favorite.

THIS GUY…

That guy in the picture… I saw him in September. He had just painted a picture of house behind his mattress. He was kissing pigeons.

The pictures he drew on the wall were removed in November, but he drew himself another house, this time with a Christmas tree, a snowman and a wood fireplace.