Living in Los Angeles has taught me a few lessons.

The bird poops on an electrical wire. The crack whore struts like she owns the place. My neighbor, who starred in a VH1 reality show, screams at her boyfriend about everything and nothing. A douched-out fratbag zooms down my block going 80 in an $80,000 Mercedes, just to reach a stop sign 3 seconds earlier then he would have otherwise.

Living in Los Angeles has taught me a few lessons. First; New York City is fucking awesome. It's a Mecca; I am a Jihadist and it's my Allah. I want to walk. I want to talk about things that aren't 'industry'. I want a cover of my magazine to be Larry David and Woody Allen. I want to drink at a bar at 3am.

But no, I'm not going to Bash LA. Sure, almost everyone I meet has ISSUES. Not 'itsy bitsy, let's drink whiskey and talk about your issues' issues...like 'mommy raped me while I was beaten with a bible' issues. The entertainment industry is fed by those people; hungry for approval, scarred by the past and narcissistic because it just makes sense.

Don't you love how someone says "not to blankity blankity blank", then they "blankity blankity blank"?

Needless to say, there are a lot of positives about living in a giant metropolitan sprawl. I like driving, for one. I think I'm fully OK with never being in a packed, sweaty, vomit-inducing subway again. When I first got here I used to say "nothing beats the subway; I can get anywhere, anytime...no traffic"...

But then I discovered "This American Life" and singing loudly to myself; traffic jams became an excuse to escape. Being in your car is kinda like being in the shower, except you're a lot dirtier. Sure, that fucker that cuts you off is annoying, but it's all OK because you're having your own little Karaoke Party. "Sister Christian" never sounded so good.

Then there's Hispanic food. Here's the difference between Los Angeles and everywhere else in the US; an El Salvadorian Immigrant is COOKING your food rather than delivering it.

Actually, he's delivering it too...but he's delivering what his cousin cooked. And, I gotta say; good hispanic food is about as delish as any food (except Jewish Deli food; but it gets close)

Even all the industry bullshit is OK. I mean, it's not, because if I have to be in the same room with another jackass wearing a blazer and teeshirt talking on their iPhone about "the deal", I'll kill myself...but: I do like the idea that we're all out here for the same reason. If I want to get a crew together, whatever the price, I just have to make a phone call or two. Anywhere else in the world it becomes a Wellian nightmare of begging, borrowing and crying.

I guess I'm getting used to LA. No, it'll never be NYC, but there's only one NYC. That's my hometown and that's why my number is 917 and my driver's lie-sense says that I live on the upper west side...but I'm used to the land of Angels. No, it's not "Under The Bridge", but maybe it's...OK.

My friend's wife created a Tee shirt line that says "I Stomach LA" (rather than "I Love LA"), and I think that's basically what's going on here. The only problem is that I have a consistent stomach ache...