Los…. well just Los… good ol Cali.

On my most recent southern California trip, we decided that we were gonna do what we could to expose the entire west coast to my “vacation”… While i was out here, i received a phone call from my job stating that i was no longer on their payroll and i wouldn’t be eligible for my paid time off… Even better… Fuck you employer… and all your friends. However, I make due, play by their rules and process my unemployment application. Anyway, i decide that going to LA to party out my last few dollars is gonna be the best way to fuck my life harder than anybody should have their life fucked. Either way, if you don’t know me than its a waste of time for you to try to start now. We’ve been balling it up so hard in southern California that we have completely lost our self respect and I’ve treated people that are supposed to be my friends back home like shit. Fuck it. Nobody actually cares right? If they do, they will tell you. Any way, we hit the Hollywood strip like we own the joint, telling people from other countries that they could do a lot better here…l You get the gist. I get so stoned and drunk that i lose my friends and find myself amongst the addicts and degenerates walking down Hollywood Blvd. Eventually i meet up with them and the absolute worst thing that could possibly happen, happens. People want to fight us. Our group consists of a Russian (who has multiple black belts in several martial arts) 2 Marines and a Ginger (me) The hilarity ensues on the shit that’s about to embark on the next 3 hours of our lives. We are drunk. On Hollywood Blvd. At 3a.m. Anybody that says anything to any one of us at this point is about to endure their greatest pain in life. Embarrassment, which if you don’t So these fucks start talking shit, realize that the Russian and the Ginger are ready to fuck shit up regardless of our consequences, ready to go fisticuffs. The Russian decides its a good time to rip his shirt off his body in middle of the street and starts stretching on Richard Pryor’s face. I realize that the rest of our group aren’t ready to stand for what we are, so i entice myself on these man procedures on “how to be a man”. I get to the point where people are ready to roll but scared to meet us in the middle. Turns out, these kids aren’t even over the age of 18 but know how to run their mouths like they’re someone special. I convince the Russian that its not possible to deal with major jail time, we move on to a really shitty New York pizza shop where other people try to fight us because they were “enslaved” in this country. We always prevail. Long story short. I woke up in the cargo area of an SUV at 8a.m. Sunday morning on Hollywood Blvd. Hungover, not happy, dealing with what shouldve been devastating. We win.

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