I Don’t Believe in Beatles.

There’s a whole lotta crap out there. What to believe?

Psychics. Alien-generated crop circles. Prehistoric sea monsters. I doubt the Titanic sank because of the curse of the unlucky mummy Priestess of Amun-Ra, and I really don’t know if Jamie Lee Curtis is a hermaphrodite. And water reversing the direction of flow in Australia?

Yeah, I call bullshit. (I did, however, honestly believe until recently Jackalopes were a real thing.)

What is this, Fantasy Island? I’m a city girl. You gotta try harder than all that.

For some of us, it’s our nature to doubt stuff. Maybe it’s all those horror movies and “scripted reality” shows I’ve seen (I know—I’m so L.A.), not to mention religious zealots on the corner of Hollywood and Vine, prophetising over megaphones about how we’re all running out of time before doomsday. Pa-lease.

Get back, Jojo. If there is a god, he doesn’t need a barefoot, scabby pimp.

Read more…

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Anne Clendening ♥

Anne Clendening is an L.A. chick, born and raised. She is a writer of creative nonfiction and other sordid tales of life, love and other L.A. adventures.

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