I know the “LA is gay” sentiment is pretty prevalent in most East Coasters. And I was reminded of why that is when I was out there last week. The reason is because LA IS GAY. Why? Let me count the ways…
LA is gay because no one is a Lakers fan until the playoffs. Then all the flags and fanfare come out. Fuck you, Faker Fans. Clippers fans are real fans. They know how to lose with style. Lakers are for kooks. The Clippers are for lovers. So I will be quite happy when my new favorite team, The Denver Nuggets, shits those unsavory characters (you know what I’m talking about) out of the playoffs.
Professional skater and Lakers fan Eric Koston and I have a bet going: Lakers win the series, I owe him $500; Nuggets win, he wears an NJ Skateshop shirt for a month and comes out and does an autograph signing. I told him Jersey is lovely in September.
LA is gay because they have earthquakes and earthquakes can suck my dick. What’s their deal? Don’t they know nobody likes them? Why don’t they go sleep on Loser’s Beach and die. There was an earthquake while I was out there. I wish I could tell you I told the earthquake to cut the shit but I didn’t. I was scared.
LA is gay because the lady cop gave me a ticket to appear in court because I was lost and made a wrong turn. I was a half-mile away from returning my rental car at the airport and coming home. I asked her if she had any humanity left in her heart. She didn’t answer. Have you ever seen Tom Sizemore’s porno? In it, as he’s coked out of his mind, he tells the camera, “I hope a hundred cops die in LA tonight and I hope they all have kids.” Now I’m not gonna say that I totally agree but I will say I’ve always been a fan of everything Tom does.
LA is gay because my lady cop didn’t laugh when, after giving me my ticket I said, “Where the hell were you the other night when I was wasted drunken driving and almost hit a tree? Now that was ticket-worthy!” Lighten up, LA. You can be gay with a sense of humor.
LA is gay because the lady at the courthouse just told me I might have to go to traffic school for my wrong turn. Online. What the shit is that? I have to call back in two weeks and find out. If I have to do that I swear I will go sit in my car with my laptop, keys in the ignition and drink a 12-pack while taking my online traffic school. Let’s see how they like my drunken protest.
Finally, LA is gay because I spent an hour of my life with my friends Steve Olson and Andy Kessler at a roundtable meeting of the minds outside of Starbucks on Melrose. Time has never moved so slowly. I asked someone at the table how often they meet there and they said, “Fuck. Every day. We put in full shifts. Solid six hours.” I signaled for my check and got the hell out of there and went and watched porn before I wasted any more of my life away.
There are more reasons that I may or may not think up later but I have to stop because I’ve reached my word count quota.
I will throw in this little gem: I was interviewed last week by an eighth grader for his streetwear website. I didn’t know he was 12 when he emailed me. Needless to say, I lied when answering every question and even said we invented streetwear and the Half Cab.
I wish he used the part where I tell him, “We mostly sell the watermelon Vans slip-ons to fat people. Because fat people are always sad and looking at their feet and now when they see food on their feet they get happy, And everybody deserves to be happy.”