Nobody walks in L.A....except me.

I wonder if kittens can taste your blood as they lick their claws two hours after climbing your bare legs like a sapling full of tweety birds? I wonder if they just think hey, bonus!....?
The title is an idea for a movie about my life in L.A. a story of a man who rejected boomtown and fought his way out of the leviathan with a hand held scanner and a radiograph. Basic glorification of failure as seen retrospectively through the eyes of an apostolic pseudo-modernist.