May 15, 2005
Constance pretends not to understand, but I think she knows there's sufficient imperitive to getting truly good hand-cut french fries. Tomy's is the place. In addition, they have the best strength test machine in the city. I'm proud to say I've scored "strongman" more than once. Yesterday, Constance and I sat on their porch, enjoying the magic hour sky above the superstructure of the highway. The usual crowd was there: a slice of Los Angeles many microcultures a la mode. The head guy there reminds me of that first villan from Red River. Smelling the burgers on the grill reminded me further of that strange montage sequence where the duke reflects on the socioeconomic value of beef. That picture had a hell of a ghost writer.