We once again packed our bags after overdose chillin in the Valley for 3 days. Mr. snål-ass rockstar Ray drove us to our next location. Hotel Cecile, the cheapest hotel we could find on the net, located in what we thought wasn't-so-bad Downtown LA. Little did we know we had arrived to the streets of crackheads, hoodrats and like always suspicious mexicanos. First person we asked for directions to the hotel told us, "Be careful down there, it's not safe". Anyways, we found it, there in the middle of the raggedy ass streets of bums. only thing extravagant about Cecile was the lobby, they had put a lot of money into the lobby, but when we got up to the room, there's prolly where they ran outta money. Earlier that morning my swedish friend Philip's friend Isaak who studies in Santa Monica had called to ask if we wanted to go out later. So we dolled up and he came and picked us up. Poor thing almost got lost in our ghetto neighbourhood. We went to his saudi-arabi friend Amro, sweetest little thing, and later headed to this little place Hollys in Santa Monica.
Never thought I would say this, but oh it's nice to hang out with swedish people.
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