Call is 11am. Blacktress arrives on the set of Angeltown, a gritty crime drama, told from the POV of the cops, who protect the mean streets of LA. These cops seem to cover a territory that spans from south central to Santa Monica.  This is perplexing to Blacktress and other actual Angelinos.  But these are the kinds of details that don’t seem to bother the staff writers or viewers who live in other parts of the country.   Blacktress has won the coveted role of, “Angry Crip girl in the Landromat.”  She sits in the make-up chair next to Scott Oats, a devastatingly handsome and well known Blacktor.  She steals glances of him as often as possible making the make-up lady’s job more difficult.

“Up, up, up. Keep your eyes looking up.  ” Barb says for the third time as she attempts to coat her lashes.

Blacktress complies . But seconds later her eyes dart back over.  Barb huffs.

Blacktress makes note of Scott Oats’ stubby legs dangling off the side of his swivel chair.

He’s such a tiny little man, she thinks.  Aren’t objects supposed to appear larger up close?

“All the A-listers are midgets.  The A actually stands for apple box,”  Blacktress once overheard a woman telling her date in line for a Tom Cruise movie at the Grove.

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If a woman, who looks perfectly put together, says it only takes her ten minutes to get ready, you shouldn’t envy her.  She’s a fucking liar.   A woman who only takes ten minutes to get ready doesn’t have to tell you.  She looks like it. Stunning does not arrive in an express package.  It comes by snail mail.

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