Originally Posted: 2005-03-21 9:57am
Fuck you LA, and the BMW you rode in on…
This is it…the last straw. There have been other last straws, too many to count in fact, but this is really really it. I have spent 2 years in this godforsaken metropolis testing my tolerance for the intolerable and I have finally given up- I hate you I hate you I hate you.
FUCK YOU Universal Studios, Burbank!! And FUCK YOU Curious George parking structure. I spent 90% of my day waiting in your stupid lines, for your short, stupid fucking rides and paid $60 to do it. I hated you already, and then some stupid fucking zit-faced Valley riff raff stole my fucking iPod. I am not rich, you stupid jerk- I don’t even have hubcabs on my car, jackhole- so what WHAT on earth made you think I had an iPod in my glove compartment, I’ll never know. But I have secretly made a pact with god that if he exists and I make it to heaven that my reward for living a good life will be to meet up with you, alone, in the alley behind St. Peters gate. I’ve got a baseball bat with your name on it…
FUCK YOU man that chased me down Western Ave. in Hollywood. I’m sorry I didn’t have a light, I just quit smoking. I’m even sorrier I didn’t want you to rape me, I just quit getting raped.
FUCK YOU traffic on the 405 at 4am. When I’m driving home at 4am, I’m either drunk, horney, or crying (the only reason one is driving at 4am), so I need you to be clear. I spend my whole day at your mercy, doing runs, burning high-priced watered-down gas, and basing my entire social life on your whims, but at 4 fucking am, I need you to NOT CLOSE DOWN TO ONE FUCKING LANE. I hate you.
FUCK YOU Pacific Ocean. No one told me you would be cold...all.the.time. Pamela Anderson is a fuckin’ liar…
FUCK YOU cum-dumpster that took off my side-view mirror going 55mph and KEPT DRIVING WHILE I WAS SITTING IN MY CAR. I suppose I should be thankful because10 seconds earlier and I would be eating go-gurt out of a feeding tube. But really, FUCK YOU.
FUCK YOU neighbors that wake me up every single god-damned morning. Yes, the puppy is very cute, but I swear to god if you don’t stop saying it at 6am every morning I am going to drop kick the fucking terrier and then punch out your other front tooth. Perhaps it would help if you spoke English so I knew what you were so excited about at 6am. Maybe you’re talking about the social security crisis or the lack-thereof. Maybe you’re reminiscing about life in the old country; working hard to pass on your oral traditions to the younger generations. But I’m pretty sure you’re asking me to come over there and kick your ass…or just key your car and run away.
And finally, FUCK YOU Los Angeles Craigslist community. I moved to this city a wide-eyed, impressionable recent college graduate [read:poor]. I was in need of many things: a job, a roommate, a love life, a toaster, etc. I turned to you. You came highly recommended from friends back east and so I jumped blindly, expecting to be caught by your soft, fuzzy, missed connections arms. So far, I have found:
- A roommate embroiled in a lawsuit with a “major studio”, shooting porn for pocket-money and selling postcards on the off-ramp of a “major freeway” for fun
- A run in with a “pseudo-nudist”. Newsflash, buddy. If you watch re-runs of Golden Girls with your schlong out, there is no “pseudo” about it.
- A crap-tastic desk that has a door that won’t stay shut so that at the most inopportune moment, like say when my tiny little sister is visiting, it flies open, revealing my resin stained bowl and a bag of weed that would make Pablo Escobar proud. Awesome.
- A job selling custom closets in Compton. you don’t need a closet. You need to move. No, I’m not kidding.
I’d put this old Italian thousand-year curse I know on you, but I think the wildfires, earthquakes, floods, mudslides, and 800lb flying boulders have got it covered. Perhaps you’ll collapse under the weight of your own smog someday, but til then, you guessed it. FUCK YOU.
PS- FUCK YOU if you’re one of those “I don’t know why everyone has to be so down on LA” holier-than-thou types. You’re either dumb or you’re the cunt-rag/douch-bag that took my side-view mirror/iPod, in which case, FFFFFUCK YOUUUUUU!
this is in or around ew.