Your heart is already racing, isn’t it? MINE IS, TOO!
Steve can barely contain his excitement. Where could we be going?
The City of Los Angeles must have misspelled the name of this street. Obviously, we are supposed to turn left at “Keister Street”. It’s the only logical explanation.
IT’S DAVID HASSELHOFF’S HOUSE! Okay, fine, it’s just part of his house. Most of it is hidden behind that fence. There are two scary-looking guys hanging around in front. They must be fans.
When you send love letters to David Hasselhoff, they are delivered to this mailbox.
I hung around for a while, but he didn’t come out. I was hoping to get a picture with him (“Wait, are you Megan? Megan from Reflections in the Snow-Covered Hills? OMG OMG CAN I HAVE A PICTURE OF US TOGETHER?”) but he must have been at an awards show. It’s just as well. I’m pretty sure I could outrun the heavyset guys, but I might have lost valuable seconds climbing the trees.
was there a trail of (half-eaten hamburger) breadcrumbs leading to his door?
[...] it all to some tight-bodied “dancer” who can put her leg behind her head. Did I NOT stalk him during my Christmas vacation? Do I NOT have a Knight Rider T-shirt? Did I NOT install Hoff soap [...]