Mon, 02 Aug 2004
On my way to work today, I heard David Lee Roth espouse the qualities of "California Girls" in song. Do women from California live up to the hype?
Dear Governor S,
Mister Wonderful admires women of all types, ages, and derivations, but so far as dynamite dancability and short-skirt-willingness go, these ladies from California rank far above the Chain-Mailed Virgins of Frigia Minor.
My point is that a Gangster of Love has to go where the juice flows, knowhutimsayin? You can raid federal banks from Dartmouth to Twin Falls, but you ain't gonna clear the red until you hold up Bristols. And if you got that joke, pour yourself a shot along with me.
Look, the barflies in Barstow may not put on the airs of Bel Air, but there ain't no such thing as a California missus that don't deserve kissus. They're sheet-shakers. They're earth-quakers.
Does the fact that I've had to have my adamantium hips replaced five times tell you anything?