Get ready for a Spencer Pratt Summer
This spring, many Angelenos have reported a strange, wild wind blowing down through the brushy canyons and over the sunbaked asphalt plains and across the urine-soaked beach parking lots of Los Angeles. There is a whiff of something new wafting into your Tesla sun roof at red lights, and for once it isn't the choking smell of weed or the belching exhaust from junkie-filled RVs idling in alleys. It is hope. And its name is Spencer Pratt. His momentum is real and it's spectacular.