Los Angeles (a la Woody Allen)

Inspired by this:

* Note: This is not how I actually feel about Los Angeles. I’m just having fun.


Chapter One. He loathed Los Angeles. Its languidly inefficient layout was a metaphor for every desperate, directionless souls that found themselves being tempted to the rocks of failure by the bright white siren on the hill known, as ‘Hollywood’.

Nah, ‘Siren’, I don’t know. It sounds too, eh, too, Hans Christian Anderson or something. Try again.

Chapter One. He loathed Los Angeles. The blue sky hung like a dust clad drape, and the lines of the city wheezed out in every direction, bringing with them an airborne virus of arrogance and vanity that infected every pore it touched. From the lavish sands of Hermosa Beach to most cavernous bowels of Skid Row, it writhed and spluttered on a deathbed fashioned by the hand it used to relentlessly pleasure itself.

That’s so grim. It’s not that bad. I mean, the weather’s incredible. Try again.

He loathed Los Angeles. He’d watch them all drown, one by one, in the oil-swirled gutter that once reflected their talentless-yet-realtively-good-looking faces among the few bright stars that hung in the dense charcoal sky.

No, no. It’s not their fault. I mean, everyone has the right to chase a dream. I mean, why not?

Chapter One. He loathed Los Angeles. It was where the American dream washed up onto the shore. Sure there were good bits, the odd message in a bottle, or a license plate from another country, but for the most part the sand was awash with condoms and syringes, spat out by the never ending tide that barely keeps the place from a foamy stagnation.

Jeez, where did that come from? Too gross. No, no, you’re not representing your true feelings. You’re saying what they want you to say. No, no, focus more. Okay-

Chapter One. He loathed Los Angeles. It was the junkyard where every dream that had ever been in a head on collision with reality was towed, stripped and used for bit parts, before being scrapped, and then dumped in the landfill known as the service industry.

I mean, you work in the service industry. Don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s not over yet.

Chapter One. He loathed Los Angeles. So often prefaced by the word “Fuckin’”, it’s frequently ranked among the most unpopular cities in an increasingly unpopular America. The badly designed packaging for the worst product you’ve ever bought, every single aspect of Los Angeles and the people that dwell in it are geared towards inducing a state of revulsion normally reserved for rapists, pedophiles and rapist pedophiles.


Again, I’m just having fun. Don’t lose your mind. I actually rather like this city, but I can certainly see why many don’t.


The video below is Los Angeles without its make-up on. It’s a very different city from the one in the movies.

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2 thoughts on “Los Angeles (a la Woody Allen)

  1. VG says:

    Yes, yes I love this. Especially the second try, with ‘wheezing’ and ‘virus’. I though it was just me who saw the bad stuff everywhere I go.

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