Live from Los Angeles, it's MY BLOG!
Yeah. Room 614 of the Miyako Hotel in Little Tokyo. Big Trouble in Little Tokyo.
L.A. is a giant fucking mess. Traffic. Traffic and more traffic. Remember, I lived in Atlanta so if I'm complaining about the fucking traffic then I promise you IT FUCKING SUCKS HERE.
You might like to think that Chicago or New York or Philly or DC is "the American city." That's cute. That's nice. It's laughable, too.
Los Angeles is America's gift to the world. New York is more like London than any part of America. But L.A.? Oh yeah, baby, that is America. Sprawl. Pollution. Corrupt cops. Excess. Gang wars. Ethnic conclaves. Stupidity as art. Violence instead of sex. Sex as violence. Television as culture. Self-awareness as self-knowledge. You want it? It's here. And it costs a fucking fortune.
I'm here to raise money and awareness and possibly educate folks about homelessness. The real story of homelessness. Because L.A. is THE American city, the homelessness here generally LOOKS like a bunch of people sleeping on sidewalks in Skid Row. These are people with mental health issues. So you see them so visible here and you say "Ah, you see, the poor crazy fuckers, let's create a more humane mental institution and throw them in it and then homelessness is gone!"
Sorry for that. Wouldn't you rather hear about me rubbing elbows with the stars? Bouncing from one trendy Hollywood party to the next? Well shit, you should because it's all true.
I think that Charlyne Yi might be a child genius. The DooDoo Christmas Show couldn't really be described as anything else.
I've read that there might be remains of some old L.A. drunk culture and that fascinates me to no end. Raymond Chandler haunts? Seriously? (Editor's note: Raymond Chandler was a pulp detective novelist, not the fat dude from "Friends." For more information: stuff about Raymond Chandler)
I'm talking about places where people who thought they were going to have something but found out they were actually going to have nothing end up. Apparently there are still thousands of idiots who come to Hollywood each year thinking they're "gonna make it." I say "idiots" in a loving way, mind you. Anyway, then they don't make it and they discover the healing power of drink. (Compare that to New Orleans: People come there because they don't give a shit if they make it or not and quite frankly that's the least of their worries so they just get hammered, joyously and happily.)
Why are we so different than all the nice Mexicans who come to Los Angeles every day? "Let's bust our culas, amigos y amigas!" I just don't get it. They actually come here and in a few months think they've made it. We go to L.A. and if we're working in the service industry or "compromising our principles" we decide that we're colossal fucking failures and we start drinking our way to oblivion. We suck.
In closing, I'd like to say "thank you" to the fine people at Lexus for choosing Sabine Ehrenfeld for their "I need to buy my rich, uninteresting husband a Christmas present" ad. Honestly, tell me THAT'S not range! From pimping the poor man's ebay to Lexus? Let's face it, America (or should I say Los Angeles, because they're one and the same), we LOVE Sabine. It's been proven. She could sell us the new fucked up Medicare plan and we'd buy it.
So there you have it. I don't love L.A., L.A. loves Sabine, and homelessness isn't fucking funny. Drink up, America.
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