Yelle! Dance or Die!

I just found out that Yelle is playing on my street corner in Torontoooo. Haaaa-eyyyyy! Friends: you must go. She is so cute, in the long tradition of sweet, quirky French girls with super-natural hair - total juxtaposition to all the American sexy in LA. She wears a sequin skeleton dress. I mean, really.

Her two dudes are adorable dance-rock, like Daft Punk without masks. It will be the best show ever, believe it! I wish I could go and see her twice in a week but I get home the day after....

Speaking of which, I'm so psyched that I'll be seeing all of you so soon! Tania's having a get-together at her place IN MY HONOUR and sent out an e-missive to which Manny replied, "Hannah's so LA now that she needs a press release." TRUE.

Tonight I may go see my fave teen squeeze of the moment. I love that she sounds like an 8-year-old boy.

P.S. I realize this video is simply garbled sound and pixels. Um. I didn't really realize that I need a new camera. Until. Now.

Hannie Prepares For Take Off

The rest of Coachella weekend was very fun, if a bit hungover. There are all these pool parties that happen in Palm Springs, and supposedly they are very fancy but I didn't make it to a single one. They happen BEFORE you go over to the festival. So, I guess you have to be up early and be with-it to do the pre-party. It wasn't exactly happening for us. Coachella weekend is crazy because the only way to hit everything is to clone yourself and be really greedy about fun, like, by multiplying yourself many times over. Since I only have one physical body, one that consumed too many refreshments on Friday, I shuffled around a lot on Saturday and whispered complaints about how hot it would be, only to arrive TOO LATE to see MGMT. My own fault! Le sigh. It's ok, we still saw Yelle (geniale!), M.I.A. (such terrible tech difficulties, we actually had to walk away), some Hot Chip, Tegan and Sara.

Oh, and Prince! It was a pretty spectacular display. Even though we were far from the stage you could see everything perfectly on the massive screens and really, the guy has not changed in 20 years. It was very exciting when he first strutted out onto the stage in his cute, white, sequinned get-up.

"Co-ah-chel-la."

Long pause.

"I am here."

Pause.

"Co-ah-chel-la."

Pause.

"Where are you?"

He said it all like he was a bit bored with how many people he could fit into the palm of his hand. It was the best call-to-arms I've ever heard from a performer. Of course this huge roar came from the crowd, floating up into the night sky along with impressive lights and big plumes of smoke.

Sunday, Mike and I visited Jacqui and her bf Dave, as she was in Laguna Beach for the weekend. It was lovely and she took me on a walk about. Amazing neighbourhood, very beautiful, but I think I'd go crazy out there. It's kinda quiet.

Now I'm in my last week here and I had big plans for all the things I'd do but I'm strangely and uncharacteristically inert. I've procrastinated ALL DAY and the sink is filled with dishes and my bags are all kind of half-packed and unpacked.

I'm actually looking forward to going home which is an about-face from how I felt last week. I miss Isaac very much and I want to know the latest on all my friends. Jacqui was calling me Hannie all day yesterday and it struck me how only my closest friends call me Hannie which is why I've never been called that in LA. Also, I miss walking - I am so sick of being in a car. Still, I get bummed out when I think about how bored I am of Toronto. But those are just idle complaints that aren't useful. I should keep them to myself.

On the upside, it's almost summer and I am excited for a new job possibility. Please come and visit me and/or take me out when I get home. I don't want to land with a thud.

xo.

Friday at Coachella

Coachella is just as I remembered it - the most civilized festival there is. People aren't convulsing drunk and passed out on the grass like at T in the Park and it's nice that it's on this perfectly manicured grass (pretty crazy since we're in the desert).

I love Santogold so much. And I love her hot, military-dancehall dancers (who were wearing the most perfect outfits ever). I also really liked Cut Copy - how had I not ever listened to them before? Cuties. We danced a little to Diplo and then later, since we were still around, I persuaded Mike to stay for Spank Rock. I was hoping Amanda Blank would be with him. In fact, it turned out Amanda had the unenviable task of telling peeps that Spank Rock was sick and that she was there to fill in. I couldn't believe all the guys (all guys) who started streaming out of the tent. I was so psyched that Amanda would have all that stage time! And yes, she was amazing.

This morning: water, coffee, Advil. And now we go again!

Monchichi on Fire (Needs Tickets)

Ok, everyone - here's the latest.

Today I tried to find Coachella tickets because I got a last-minute assignment to cover it. I've recruited my friend Mike to come with.

I'm such a brat - I kind of always wanted to go to Coachella but only if someone paid me to do it. But um, isn't that the point of being an arts writer...? So there. But it is really close to the wire and everyone is crazy-jacking the price of Saturday tickets because it's the only day worth going (M.I.A., Prince, MGMT, Portishead!). Do I live in a weird fairy world simply because I think scalping is wrong? Hey Guy Who Talks In Reverse ("You got tickets?") - you aren't getting on stage! So what makes you deserve ALL MY MONEY?

Speaking of money, I am sending crazy emails to all these Craigslist people like, "I CAN BE THERE WITH $300 ASAP!" totally forgetting that, the other day, I lost my bank card. I only remembered this hours into the process. I kind of lost it with a poor girl on the phone just now. She had the misfortune of picking up the CIBC hotline and being dumb. Still, that doesn't mean you deserve a shriek of "WHAT?!" when you say that it takes 5 business days before a new convenience card goes out in the mail. It's just what happened. I couldn't help it. But I know - she didn't make the rules. A person who doesn't care about me being in a different country with no bank card made the rules.

While I spent the better part of my afternoon calling around to scalper weirdos in Hollywood that I found on Craigslist, I waited for the job-lady to phone me back. The interview yesterday...didn't go so well. Not that she wasn't totally friendly. It was just a weird interview because she didn't ask me anything. It wasn't really an interview at all. I got the feeling it might be like that from our phone conversation earlier. She was very warm until I mentioned that I was Canadian. I rushed to add that with a job offer I could be legal in 3 - 15 days. There was a pause and then she said, "Oh. Ok. Well....would you like to meet anyway?" Oh geez.

Hmm, what else. Ooh, my awesome friend Nikki took me to Bikram yoga tonight and I thought I might die or at least have some sort of accident like the explosion of my face. It was hot. Afterwards I felt high, except less fun. As I sat in the car after, making a quick phone call (more Craigslist people) my car actually steamed up from my own body heat. I was totally impressed with myself but also alarmed. So I went to Pinkberry. That was dinner. I ordered kiwi and mochi (which is kind of secret, you just have to know to ask). As I stood there, I read the nutritional information. Do you know that a gigantic cup of Pinkberry only has 140 calories and no fat? WHAT IS THIS STUFF? Manna from the glorious heavens? No but seriously, I'm scared - what's in it?

In other boring news, I had a brief tingly moment in my face this morning which always makes me panic from the time all my face skin came off multiple times from this horrifically insane unidentified allergic reaction I had almost 10 years ago. I told Elizabeth that the next time she sees me I may look like Freddy Krueger to which she responded by coining the term Kruegerchichi. Then she killed me with rapid-fire emails for 30 minutes where every word ended in the suffix "-chichi." This is why she rules. She is a VP at a gigantic behemoth company but she's so fun that she can jam random words and ideas together to come up with the most grotesque but cute thing ever (which equals funny).

I also have a pimple on my eyelid. I know! Weird, isn't it?

Kruegerchichi, mochi, mochi, mochi.

Goodnite.

Weekend Review

I felt kinda exhausted after Friday night. I had a breakfast meeting the next morning at a place that serves pancakes the size of frisbees. Then I went to Flip and his mother Susan's house in Northridge because I forgot my wetsuit in his car the day we went surfing. It was so cool to meet his mom! She's 94, sprightly and hale and she wore an Adidas warm-up jacket like she was about to run sprints. She called me "the girl from Canada" and after our afternoon visit, made me write my name in a notebook so that she'd remember me (there were many pages filled - she gets lots of visitors).

Then, Katie, Philippe and I went to a house party in Eagle Rock. Disco lights, smoke machine, pop dance hits, lots of food and....a punishingly adorable yet vicious dog. He was black and fluffy with the best kind of dog face - an elegant tip nose like the shape you'd get if you pulled a handful of clay toward you with all five fingers. Well, he was cute but he totally BIT Katie. It drew blood. I don't think she felt like dancing after that.

The next morning, the three of us met for brunch at a place that sells fancy food, including Dufflet cookies. It's funny to think that they might have been made at their factory next door to me in Toronto. After brunch we stumbled upon what must be the best store on earth: Puppies and Babies. You can't buy babies in there but they had six rough-and-tumble Maltipoo lil dudes in cribs who would flip out, wriggle, jump up on their hind legs and then do wrestling dives into their little, terrycloth sleeping mat. Could there be a better store? Answer: NO.

Oh, and I HAVE A JOB INTERVIEW TOMORROW.

You Do The Math

Because it's late and I can't figure it out, I am depriving you of what you really want to see: video of Annahita and Sunny belting out Toto's Africa and Philippe singing Red Red Wine. You don't want to see us doing Since You've Been Gone. I mean, you can just imagine it.

(Annahita+Sunny+Katie+Philippe+me) x Korean BBQ x (Mike x Toronto friends Nick and Arthur x Boykewich sisters) x Dance Party = Friday Night

Yeah, Surfing Really Is That Great

I surfed! I surfed!

In Honolulu two years ago, I took a couple of surf lessons on the beach. One of the teachers asked me about being Korean and told me he had "a Korean friend in LA" that he absolutely had to put me in touch with. I wasn't sure why since there are many Korean people in this world and sure, a lot of them, statistically, could be friend material, I suppose...

Well, that's how I met Flip. He's the Korean friend in LA and we met over the internet. We emailed back and forth a bunch and he told me about his life and his mom's life and his grandfather's life. It was great because I'd never heard of Dosan but of course when I had dinner with my parents one night and told them that my new friend was the grandson of Dosan, they were verrry impressed. They rarely act impressed.

So yesterday I met Flip for the first time! He took me to a place called Point Dume. He had a wetsuit and surfboard for me and even some vitamin water. I know - who is this guy?

Well, he's like ramen - instant friend. He's 52 and he grew up on that beach. He tells lots of great stories like the time he took Barbara Streisand to court, the two times he almost got married, or his theory that Kim Sung-Il was a Chinese man planted by the Communists and not Korean at all.

The water was extremely cold, so cold that I wanted little wetsuits for my hands, feet and face, too. But Flip didn't even seem to notice! When my surfboard split in half (what?! not my fault) he gave me his and just kind of hung out in the water, like my own personal gentle sea creature. He'd push me into the waves and would tell everyone we ran into that I caught 5 out of 7 waves. He must know that I'm really just a fourth-grade keener at heart and that I live for good grades.

The best part? He's this totally different being on a surfboard. He surfs like magic! It's really pretty amazing.

Also, did you know that there's this thing that people do where they stand on a surfboard with a paddle? It's not every day that you see something you have literally never seen before. Flip says it's only been happening for the last couple of years but that it's traditional in Hawaii.

After a day at the beach, I drove back over Laurel Canyon, my favourite drive in LA, and met up with Katie, Philippe and Rebecca. Some days this trip feels like a super-long extend-a-mix vacation. Is that ok?

Move Your Body, Move Your Car

The same day I dropped Jose off at the airport...I went right back to pick up Katie and Philippe! The Toronto train just keeps coming in. Today we had fun eating (while Philippe only utilises 10% of our three-way conversation time, 100% of that is spent talking about Mexican food).

Here's a weird coincidence: I was invited to a show by a girl I met once. Her band J Lep was playing their first show tonight. Philippe told me he was planning on checking out a show tonight, too...and it turned out to be the same one! It wasn't very big. What are the chances?

Anyway, J Lep was so fun. I love them.

Tomorrow I'm going surfing with someone I only know from the internet. I live in the future! Seriously! Pioneers didn't surf. Then I'm going to a shopping party. I don't really think a day can get any better.

She Looks Exactly The Same In Real Life

Today I had lunch at my new fave spot. I met up with a girl who just moved here to pursue comedy. She's from Toronto and we had Jose in common so he hooked it up. We talked for an hour solid about work visas. It's amazing how something so incredibly boring can become really interesting when it affects you.

I'd never met her before but I've seen her comedy online and I totally thought of Sarah Silverman. She said she gets that a lot. And then guess who walked in to the cafe? Yes. C'est kooky, n'est-ce pas? Last night, when Amanda, Jose and I were having dinner there, they both saw Fred Armisen but I didn't notice. I've obviously found the funny cafe.

Vampire Buddy Flies Back To Toronto, Girl Sad

Jose is leaving tomorrow which is sad because we've had so much fun. Some of you may know him - sweet, polite, gracious Jose. However, living with someone for a couple of weeks gives you new insight. I've discovered a whole list of unique "quirks" about him (that I won't write here in order to preserve our friendship although truth be told, I taunt him with "blog" "photo" "ops" all the time: "Jose, I totally want to take a photo of you right now, in your yoga gear, sorting your laundry into paper shopping bags...for my blog.")

But let's just skip to the best one: Vampire Jose. He comes out at night. After we go out on the town and have fun (and refreshments), he comes home and just tells it like it is. No mincing words. We meet people when we go out at night and while I spend a lot of time mulling over what I think, Jose just comes out with it as soon as we get in the door. If only I could describe to you the complete change from Daytime Jose, who is soft-spoken, demurs, deflects praise modestly and meticulously cleans the kitchen every day like it gets him closer to God, to Vampire Jose who can sum up the Hollywood weirdos we meet in like, 6 words, adjectives and expletives carefully chosen.

I can't give you examples to protect the innocent, and by that, I am referring to Jose, who is afraid of some of these people.

I realize that bulls-eye, no-holds-barred, calling-it-like-it-is isn't necessarily a trait ascribed to vampires (no worries, Jose doesn't do anything else vampiric like wear a cape although that would add to roomie fun), I just call him that because this side of Jose only comes out at night.

Sometimes it's directed at me.

The other night we had post-party munchies. He tried to call for pizza but the fridge magnet lies ("Open Late"). I know that our kitchen only holds such treasures as salad, vitamins, tinctures and flax seed oil, but I really tried.

"Jose! I'm going to make you a grilled cheese! Mmm!" I got busy.

He hovers as I pull bread out of the freezer and says disdainfully: "Is that weird bread?" Emphasis on "weird." I knew exactly what he meant because yes, sprouted 7 grain isn't the exact right food for the occasion but I was doing my best with improvisation and Jarlsberg. But then all night, Jose bugged me about how my horrid sandwich tasted like sawdust (not true).

Jose would never say that at 3 pm. Just 3 am.

Our late nights were courtesy of two parties: this and this. The warehouse party was really amazing although Jose keeps calling it a rave and then I get mad. The other one was funny because it's one of those parties where it's all about the party snaps (more action by the photog than on the dancefloor which is just so wrong). Also, as soon as you put one foot on the dancefloor, it's like:

Kid: "Can I buy you a drink?"

Me: "No!" I'd learned my lesson from a fake-date I went on the other day (long story) - you need to nip this in the bud. "Push It" was playing.

Kid: "Do you like to push it?"

Me: "Yes, because I'M THIRTY." It was the quickest kid-repellent I could think of. "I'm thirty and I remember this song from the first time around."

Today is Jose's last day in LA. Wah. Bye Jose!

"Hello, I'd Like To Speak To The Little Tiny Guy on The Inside, Please"

I had a meeting with another agent yesterday. I'm just beginning to become familiar with agencies (talent representation, like NGO's, love acronyms) and I didn't know this agency was so big-time. I entered a reception area on one floor to be guided through another reception area on another floor, then down a hallway lined with fancy offices on one side (all filled with men in suits) and cubicles on the other (young peeps, every one of them talking intensely into a Bluetooth).

The agent I met was really nice. He's definitely old-school. There are photos of him beaming with Johnny Carson. He uses the phone rather than email. You know. The thing is, I can't tell you why I was meeting with him because, as I found out in his office, he reps comedians. The only way I can explain it is that a (powerful, helpful) friend of mine put out a missive to agencies, and this guy said he would meet with me.

He was friendly, but it was obvious within the first 30 seconds that he wasn't meeting me for me. He was meeting me to do my friend a favour. He said he liked my work but that he doesn't know the hosting world, and that he'd pass along my info to the agents there who do. So I have one question: Why? It's all so puzzling. Why couldn't I just meet with the hosting agents in the first place? I have a feeling that this is a question that only a non-Angeleno would have. But it just doesn't make sense to me.

Sometimes, I get so tired of having meeting after meeting, with people telling me, "Oh you're great," because in the end, it doesn't mean anything. Compliments don't amount to anything real. It's like everyone in LA is a Russian doll and while I'd like to meet the (stumpy, little and adorable) person who will say the magic words, "You're hired!" instead, I'm meeting 10 people I have to get through first.

I'd like to be more direct, but I don't see how it's possible. I called up a production company yesterday that does the American version of a show I wrote in Canada. The receptionist was like, the biggest, fattest most iron-clad Russian doll ever.

"Hi, I was wondering if I could speak with someone in production for Project Runway. I worked on the Canadian version and I'd like to find out more about the production team here."

"Ok, just send a resume to Human Resources." She enunciates "Human Resources" like it's a person's name I might have trouble spelling and then gives me the mailing address like I've never heard of Google.

I tried about 5 more times.

"Ok, but who can I address it to?"
"Alright, so what's the name of that individual...?"
"Thanks, great. So I can send this to...?"

Nothing.

I felt like saying, "Hello? I've been you! Except I obviously didn't care about my job as much as you do." But I didn't. It was such a stupid conversation.

So that was my first and last attempt at cold-calling. How can I get through a bulldog who guards names like that? More to the point, WHY guard names like that? It's not the DaVinci Code - you're just picking up the phone. Is that really her job or does she just think it is?

On a more positive note, I just revisited my LA List for the first time since I got here and having just gotten my first US magazine assignment today, I've pretty much checked everything off (keep in mind, the list was filled with achievable goals and um, even included, um, "shopping," which I have checked off my list, um, many times over now).

Also, it's been so fun running lines with Amanda every day before her auditions. Don't worry, I don't get all dramatic. Amanda is the actor. But what's interesting to me as a writer is that some of these scripts aren't that great, surprising considering the odds on getting a pilot made. You'd be better off buying a scratch ticket. So why aren't these scripts dazzling and brilliant? At the same time, I'm learning a lot about the sitcom format and what makes things funny in a broad sense. Reading scripts every day with Amanda definitely contributes to the fun-but-weird La La Land vibe. I like it.

Oh, and what about American Gladiators you ask? Don't. When we saw that we had to drive through South Central to get there, Jose got scared. But it wasn't until we rolled up and saw the other people coming in to the taping that I got scared. Did I want to enter this world? Well, we did. Then I got sleepy. I fell asleep in the front row waking up intermittently to see an overgrown, glistening Zack Morris Gladiator swat a contestant into the water (with THE giant, plastic Q-tip!) in about one second flat. Then they'd re-set for like, an hour. BORING. Jose and I snuck out and got burgers at In'n'Out.

Now we're off to get sushi. Eating in LA is so fun.

Warning! Giant Plastic Q-Tip Alert!

This afternoon Jose and I will be going to see a taping of American Gladiators. He is practically rolling over in joy, reminiscing about his boy-childhood. So. Nothing's happened yet, we're just sitting here eating Mexican take-out for lunch, it's just that it's about to happen. Hulk Hogan is about to happen. And I thought I should warn you.

Hollywood: How Very

Friday night we saw a new flick and then went to a party at the writer/director's house. He wrote Heathers. I wandered his Hollywood home thinking, "OMG! My junior high self would lose it."

I loved Heathers back then. Watching this new film piqued my curiosity. Is this writer/director...feminist? Or...not? I kind of can't tell. The only that's for sure is that he has pretty evolved and complex thoughts about women which is more than I can say for most of the stuff Hollywood cranks out. He ran around the house all night (into the smaller house in the back to grab bags and boxes of drinks) so he wasn't exactly in chat mode, like, Ask me about feminism, would you, already? However, fridge was always stocked.

This party was totally different from the party I went to last weekend in Silver Lake. First of all, it's a gigantic Hollywood home with showbiz lore: Orson Welles died there. There's a beautiful pool with steam rising off it (it was a chilly night), several decks and overall, it rates high on the fancy-meter. But people weren't exactly mingling and it was like there was some unwritten rule against dancing, even though the music was totally danceable. Boooooo.

The whole time I wandered the house, I thought, I have GOT to tell Jaclyn I was here and that there was all this art on the walls that she would LOVE.

Other than that, J and I had several TV marathons this weekend. One of the only times I left the house was to watch a TV show at a bar (it was a celebration). We also hiked every day this weekend, which was gorgeous. Amanda took me on a different route than the one I take with James. From the top of the hill, the bumper-to-bumper traffic on Sunset looks like a string of twinkling jewels. It's mesmerizing and beautiful. Then I think about what the twinkles really are close-up (just the very real and mundane lights on cars with drivers sitting inside fuming because they are inching along in traffic). Hollywood.

Ok, here's a Hollywood story for you. It's actually J's. He had a meeting at a literary agency this morning and the guy greeted him with a hearty, "So you're a snowback!" J said he was confused. He'd never heard the term before. Neither had I. As he was telling me the story, we kind of looked at each other incredulously. Does snowback mean...like, wetback? Like a racial slur?

So we Googled it. Answer: Yes.

Who greets a stranger with a slur? J was really stunned but I hate to say that I'm not. Not to be overly dramatic but please - don't all non-white people know what discriminatory words feel like? It's disgusting because I know this guy felt it was okay for him, as a white dude, to say this to another white dude but please...like he would say what crosses his mind when he sees a face like mine. What a xenophobic, grosstastic caricature of a Hollywood sleaze. J and I both can't believe it.

Oh, and another thing that disgusted me today. That schtick gets this guy gets job OFFERS? Local news is always such a disaster but this is just COME ON.

Isaac and I chatted this weekend and he requested more photos of me on the blog. I've complied with a photo he took of me doing what I do so much of down here: beep beep!

It's Practically Like Being in India

I found a yoga DVD among my stuff at home and decided to bring it with me to LA so that I could get some sort of physical activity going while I'm here. Of course I haven't touched the thing. Instead, I sweat it out at boot camp in the mornings (and guess what? Even though it makes me wanna barf, I love it!).

Anyway, Jose mentioned that he was feeling kind of stiff and I know he likes yoga so I told him I had this DVD (untested, can't vouch for it). Now I am sitting here, post-workout, eating some microwave biryani and he is sitting on the living room floor doing my yoga DVD. I type to the sound of a hypnotic female voice ("Inhale...Exhale....") and tinkling new-age music.

I love being roomies.

Smoke that LA LA

We've had an exciting day.

This morning I had a meeting with an agent and...I liked him! Does he like me? Seems like it. I realized after I left that I'd been holding my breath waiting for the shoe to drop, like he would rip off his harmless-guy mask and be a monster or a psycho with a power drill - somewhere along the line, I'd subconsciously created this negatron idea that agents are laying in wait in their offices, in a puddle of slime or an oil slick, waiting to show off their ability to breathe fire. In my face. ("Owwww!"). The guy I met this morning was...young! Cute! Wearing a t shirt! Someone I would actually want to have a conversation with at a party. I only realized I'd been bracing myself for the worst when I walked out and thought, "Huh. He was nice."

Then I volunteered to drive Amanda around to her auditions because she just got back from Boston yesterday and today she was scheduled for FOUR auditions. She had to cancel one because that's too many (if only we all had that problem). I know how stressful it is to drive around when your mind is trying to focus on the next task at hand so I was only too happy to meet her at her first audition with her next audition outfit and a lunch I packed. I would make an amazing personal assistant.

Then, Jose and I were loitering in a coffee shop when he got a call from a big time lady who called to say that yes, she will read his spec scripts over the weekend and why doesn't he come in for a meeting on Monday morning? Yesss!

Today I'm liking LA and while I feel like there are lots of ups and downs, that's better than a whole lot of boring.

Update on what I did all week: We've been eating lots of fancy, delicious food at restaurants with really dim lighting. Our friend Tim is in town (so funny) and he brings his lovely friends Shaun and Shelby (two actors - in love!) and I bring Jose, Jasmin and my new Canadian friend Mike. We went to the Bar Marmont and the Dakota at the Roosevelt (I know - are all the good restaurants in hotels?) and tonight I am going to The Farm at the Grove (not with my buddies, with new peeps). Someone warned me that Counting Crows are playing the Grove today but it's over already (whew). I could not deal with Adam Duritz tonight.

Yesterday I found a desk on Craigslist and enlisted Jose to come with me and help (best helper ever). Please note how far the thing sticks out the back and that when Jose went to the hardware store for rope, the lady gave us something that is merely a decorative approximation of rope. Like say, if you wanted to wrap a gift but make it "rustic." We got honked at the whole way home.

"Beep!" Yes, I know I have a table in my trunk.

"Beep!" Yes, it's bouncing around a little.

"Beep!" I'm going 20 mph so that I don't kill you if it falls out - what more could you want? I am driving like this for your own wellbeing!

"Beep!"