They run a lot and avoid carbs and sculpt their bodies into machines that are perfect for running a lot and avoiding carbs, I guess.Īll of them incredibly cool. They’ll yell “CUT!” and have you forcibly ejected.Īnd waaaaaay back at the end of the hall are the Future Olympians. Whatever you do, don’t step into their scene. They mumble a lot and look at their shoes and pretend they’re on camera at all times. They use their laptops to create “music” that sounds like a smartphone when you put it in the microwave for thirty seconds and then smack it with a hammer.įarther down the hall you have the Indie Film Actors. (Who has time to watch all these shows?)Īnyway… see those kids behind them, with the sets of huge headphones strapped to their heads?
All of them have their own shows, watched by people who have their own shows, which in turn are watched by other people who have even more shows. You can tell because they’re glued to their phones. Maybe he relished the sound of his own body sizzling as he slowly turned well done.īut do you want to know the real problem with Rancho Verdugo? But it sure beats Philly, doesn’t it?”Ĭlearly, my dad loved the sensation of being a bug on the sidewalk while someone held a giant magnifying glass over him. “They say it’s a little warmer here in the summer. “Seriously, Dad? It’s like a billion degrees here!” Soon I realized my dad’s idea of “nice weather” was a blazing death ray beaming down onto the top of your head at all times. I trusted Dad right up until that crazy-hot summer day we pulled into town. “Bart, you’re going to have to trust me.”Īnd I did. “Do people in grass skirts bring you pineapple smoothies in Rancho Verdugo?”
Rancho Verdugo is so much better than Hawaii. “I hear the weather’s really nice in Hawaii, too.” “The weather’s absolutely insane! It’s pretty much sunny outside all the time.” “You’re going to love it, buddy,” my dad told me.
The place that always gets blown up in all those disaster movies. Anyway, Rancho Verdugo is right next door to Los Angeles.
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