WHAT I IMAGINE A DAY IN MY LIFE WOULD BE LIKE IF I LIVED IN LOS ANGELES

  1. 5:45 am Wake up feeling rested and completely energized and excited about the day to come. Put on my yoga clothes. Grab coconut water out of the fridge and head next door to see if my neighbor and yoga partner Madison is ready to head to the studio.
  2. 6:13 am Madison is on the phone with her boyfriend/ agent who lives on the east coast and not quite ready to leave for yoga. She offers me a bong hit and a handjob while I wait and I accept both.
  3. 6:24 am I’m slightly dehydrated from the handjob so I head home to grab another coconut water while Madison gets dressed
  4. 7:06 am We arrive to yoga a little late and end up with spots towards the back. I correct Jerry Ferrara’s Warrior Pose and he offers to thank me with a handjob. I tell him I don’t have time that morning and we exchange numbers. I make a mental note to check the box office on the Entourage movie before deciding if I’ll take him up on the offer.
  5. 8:11 am I give Madison a handjob in traffic on the way home from yoga and we pick up coconut water and some bananas that have been held over a skillet where bacon is cooking for seven minutes for breakfast.
  6. 8:26 am Before dropping Madison off we sit in my car and cry for twenty minutes about racism and war and the fact that our dads are getting older. Then we smoke a joint and exchange handjobs again and I head in to get dressed for work.
  7. 8:50 am Getting ready for work means showering, breaking out a ruler to make sure my stubble is regulation, and downing another coconut water. I select an outfit from my collection of
    one-of-a-kind artisanal designer suit creations handcrafted by Exclamation Oink, an LA-based artist and designer who runs this boutique where she customizes suits for select clients based on their tax returns, the first album they bought with their own money, daily caloric intake, and favorite longform journalism articles.
  8. 9:15am Finally heading to work. My job has no name. It’s vaguely connected to the entertainment industry, also to social media and publishing. There are vases filled with white flowers all around the office, and also vintage pinball machines. Imagine if the commodification of youth culture was empowering.
    It's what marketing would be if marketing took classes at UCB and ate more pineapple
  9. 9:55am After a quick exchange of handjobs with the parking lot attendant on duty I finally make it into the office just in time for our morning seminar. Today, a seventeen-year old brunette wearing a loose black dress over a Hawaiian print bikini reads us a found poem made up of death row inmates’ last words
    When she’s done my boss asks us all to tweet him eight ideas on how the imagery in the poem can be translated into GIFs that can be projected behind Katy Perry on her summer tour. He wants them by noon, which means I’ll probably miss my 11am karate lesson.
  10. 11:38 am I tweet my eighth idea and go down the hall to see if anyone else is done and wants a handjob since I didn’t make it to karate. My friend Kyle is done but doesn’t want a handjob, because he’s about to log in to Mario Kart for a therapy session. He says I can stick around as long as I’m quiet.
    Basically you play Mario Kart online against your therapist. The therapist analyzes you according to this algorithm based on which character you choose, which course you select, and your performance, divided by whatever you want to discuss while playing. Kyle plays as Princess Peach, races Bowser’s Castle, and talks about this time his dad cried looking at a redwood. Seems pretty loaded but all his therapist says the entire time is that Kyle is cheating when he uses a shortcut.
  11. 12:50 pm Back to work. The rest of my day is devoted to smoking weed with Jonathan Lethem and Clara Oswald from Dr. Who, and researching who owns the rights to Casper the Friendly Ghost.
  12. 5:00 pm Quitting time, and I’m famished so I head around the corner to one of my favorite eateries, Truancy. Beef Spindles are big in LA and Truancy has the best ones, even if their claim to have invented them is total bull. Everyone knows Chloe Moretz invented Beef Spindles in a dream while taking a nap on the set of The Equalizer.
  13. 5:05 pm A bunch of Crips pass. I’ve always intellectually identified with the Crips but felt like a Blood deep down in my bones, I’m not sure why. I think about pitching my boss the idea that we could potentially buy out one or maybe even both gangs and turn them into guerilla street teams, have them promote video games or political candidates.
  14. 5:12 pm On my way into the restaurant I bump into Jerry Ferrara and get the impression it’s not a coincidence. He pretends he can’t place where he knows me from and then he’s like, “Hey, wasn’t I supposed to give you a handjob?” I almost let him since it’s been a few hours but I tell him I’m in a rush and he makes me promise I’ll call him later
  15. 5:21 pm Truancy is out of coconut water and for a minute it’s like I have x-ray vision, I can see through the walls of the restaurant and that behind or within them are seething colonies of millions of black beetles all jockeying for position, tearing each other’s legs off and puncturing one another’s carapaces and click clack click clack click
    gnawing fucking dying and then spilling out of the walls, into the air and I can’t see or breathe because of the sickening mass of mangled black bugs surrounding me, and what they really want is to be inside of me, to climb inside my mouth and nostrils and anus and ears or even tear ducts, and then it’s like they do, like they’ve filled me up and devoured all my viscera so that all I am is a flesh shell for these bugs to infiltrate and pilot like a Trojan Horse to study humanity
  16. 5:22pm
  17. The manager of Truancy gives me a handjob and when I finish it looks normal, no bug parts come out, and she mentions the 7-11 next door sells coconut water.
  18. 5:36pm
  19. Earthquake while I'm in 7-11. A couple of cars crash and a bus jumps a curve. Within minutes the LA Celebrity Emergency Response Squad is on the scene and I'm reminded that I love living in a city where people play their part in a crisis. I watch Kelsey Grammar and JB Smoove organize the injured into a queue and administer handjobs while Diane Rehm
    Gathers children around and explains that earthquakes are scary but not as pressing an issue as gun control. No of the celebs ask for anything in return, they're just happy to help
  20. 8pm
  21. The emergency response teams wraps up and I walk back to my car, posting some pics to Instagram as I go. In the parking deck I'm struck in the head from behind and the last think I see before blacking out is jerry Ferrara standing over me holding a club
  22. 11:30 pm
  23. Come to tied to a chair in a cheap hotel room. Ferrara offers me a coconut water and asks if I was ever going to take him up on the handjob, I admit I was not. He starts crying and I tell him, it's impossible to exchange handjobs with every stranger you meet all day. Ferrara says, Sometimes I feel so alone.
  24. People think I have it so easy as a big star but sometimes it's like I have X-ray vision, like I can see inside the walls and there are all these black beetles fighting and fucking and chomping down on each other--
  25. I stop him. Jerry, I say, Jerry. I forgot, I got an odd number of handjobs today, if I don't get another one to even things out I won't be able to sleep.