Thirteen Steps

I flew to L.A. That’s my plane. Figure that out.

What? It was.

I was visiting Ana. That’s her.

I don her glasses to become Hipster Don.

We saw this ad on our way to the hotel. It cracked me up.

I jolted my arm out the car window and snapped this. Mission Accomplished.

Ana took me to Tito’s, the home of delicious tacos. Tacos are a food item found in Mexican cuisine.

The mere thought of tacos makes Ana reminisce about her childhood and smile.

I cannot begin to describe how good those tacos were. I recommend flying to L.A. just for them.

Ana waits for the incredibly dark elevator to reach our destination.

Waiting upsets her.

Once in my hotel room, the gun show begins. Her might is astounding.

I really enjoy hotel rooms. I get all weird in them, though.

That is not mine.

Room service and cushy robes make me happy. Where we’re going, we don’t need forks.

A trip to Venice beach ensues. I like this area, but not the tourists.

Oddly enough, this is a Catholic church.

Looking back at the mainland.

Milk shakes!

The requisite bare-feet-in-sand photo.

Ana is about to attack. Or dance. Definitely one of those.

Or neither of those. I don’t know. What are you looking at?

And what’s so funny?!

Heavy winds on that there beach.

Lucky shot.

Lucky shot plus landscape. THE WORLD IS TILTING!

Those weren’t her shoes.

Ana will find that shark that ate her shirt, yes she will.

Karate.

I tried this hat on.

I liked it and bought it. For world peace.

This was my favorite boat. Yacht schmat. Who needs ‘em?

What? Can’t a guy hug the leg of a statue?

He’s steering Ana.

Count the nipples. Good night.