• @paultbradley
    18 September, 2017

    @vocaljavelins Was it this fuckin' guy? https://t.co/DVhydXeReP

  • @paultbradley
    22 August, 2017

    RT @JustinESports: Boston reporter: "Hello, I'm from the Globe." Kyrie: "Excuse me?"

  • @paultbradley
    15 August, 2017

    RT @SenWarren: The President of the United States just defended neo-Nazis and blamed those who condemn their racism and hate. This is sick.

  • @paultbradley
    28 July, 2017

    Every single day inside the Trump White House: https://t.co/2QbuV0eD9w

  • @paultbradley
    15 June, 2017

    @ben_westhoff I just say, "Gainz? Gainz!" Saves time.


Paul T. Bradley

Paul T. Bradley

Paul T. Bradley is a writer, journalist, and jerk who has written for L.A. Weekly since 2011. He is a Silver Lake-based former ditch-digger and he owns a 2004 Jetta (1.8 turbo).

Latest Stories

  • 4 months ago | Last Night

    Promoting his forthcoming album on Mad Decent, "To Syria With Love," the wedding singer from Tell Tamer had the crowd whirling their inner dervishes.

  • 11 months ago | Comedy

    Hey there, asshole! Just moved to the Angel City, huh? The Big Orange. Tinselvillage. Know how I can tell? We assholes can spot each other a mile away — and that chrome spoiler from last year is a dead giveaway. Look, driving here isn’t like ...

  • 12 months ago

    It's not hard to find a decent mixologist in Los Angeles, what with the buses emptying them out by the thousands at Hollywood & Highland every day like Okies from the Dustbowl. Some of them come here with sparkling personalities; some come wit...

  • 12 months ago

    Linda's Place, a dank room with a liquor license, was once the dive bar of gin-soaked dreams. It earned no writeups and made few (if any) "best of" listicles. Certain Bukowski–T-shirted dive poseurs might have found it, shall we say, lacking...

  • 12 months ago

    Few spots in Los Angeles transition competently from day to night, from freelancing time to fun time. Billions (yes, billions) of coffee shops both Eastside and Westside make fantastic reading nooks and scriptoriums, but what happens when 3 p.m. r...

  • 1 year ago | Culture

    It’s 9 a.m. on a late-June Saturday deep in North Hills and temperatures are already somewhere between “fuck this” and “I can’t even.” Lining one side of a high school track that encircles a football field, there are pop-up canopies covering hodge...


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