So You Find Yourself Visiting L.A. (Part III)

The Non-Broseph Sequel


Some of you may remember my initial reasoning for visiting what the depths of humanity hath wrought, while others may have no idea to what I'm referring. If you need a refresher, surely you can take the time to scroll down to the original post. For the rest of you who are too lazy to do that I'll sum it up in one word: employment. Not employment of just any sort--I wanted a job in the sexy sexy world of the music industry, in a vain attempt to be the one non-soulless bastard in the entire field, who actually gave a damn about what constitutes a good sound. Given the fact that I have a deep resume (especially considering my young age) and my boundless enthusiasm for the craft, I'd be a shoe-in.

Fuck no. That's not how the world works, you insolent little shit.

So I remain among the ranks of the unemployed, which allows me to spend more time doing incredibly important research. I only bring this up again to not only provide context, but because I was prompted by an email I just received. It was from MonsterTRAK, which I had signed up for back in the halcyon days of College (read: two years ago), when my future was filled with promise and that surely the right internship would set me on the fast-track to success and fulfillment. Of course, even after the work experience and improving my grades (ever so slightly), this would turn out not to be the case (as it is evident). This email inquired the eternal question: "Grad School or the Real World?"

Fuck that. I'm going to Tomorrowland.


1. KROQ exists only in our imagination, or is like some kind of Atlantis: That's because it has no location. Part of my grand strategy of getting a job was to visit various locations in person (from the Latin en persona), proving my absolute willingness to do whatever was necessary to get that job (which I guess would mean "be physically present"). However, for this strategy to be successful, one would need to know the location of one's target, and in the case of KROQ, there apparently is none. That's right, we couldn't find it on any map, and when GoogleMaps has a hard time finding something, you know you got some top-secret shit going down. Well, alright, GoogleMaps is one thing. But when I was in the approximate location of where KROQ should be located and I tried to use Directory Assistance (411, holla), I was told that they also did not have any record of any location. It's one thing to avoid the Internets, but when 411 can't locate your ass, that's a whole new level of insanity.

Clearly someone is trying to protect the safety of Jed The Fish, who has to be the target of thousands of assassination projects.

Note: Joe Reefer got the chance to enjoy part of the regular afternoon show of Jed the Fish, and it took him all of 20 seconds for him to determine that homicide would be legally justifiable in this case.


2. They don't give a shit where they place Hollywood stars on the Walk Of Fame: I believe Laurence Olivier's star is placed between one of the seven "smoke shops" and eight "titty bars" on Hollywood Blvd. Joe was of course more offended that John Lennon's star outside of Capitol Records was placed right next to Duran Duran's (the genius of "Hungry Like The Wolf" (and I say "Girls On Film" as well) notwithstanding).

3. The E! Network building smells like shit: And I can tell, even though it's part of a large office complex. This fucking delights me to no end.



4. Brosephs Continue To Walk The Streets: I believe that this needed to be asserted. Fathers, all of your daughters at USC will be the target of either a date-rape scenario (done entirely out of frustration from being unable to tell his brah about their true love) or will be witness to several Dane Cook knock-off jokes (which strangely won't be any worse than the genuine article). And PBR will be spilled, I guarantee it. I really just wanted to stress the fact that this exists (and will violate my sub-heading promise to do so).

5. Los Angeles is a weird amalgamation of Baton Rouge and Worcester: It has the flat and wide open space shitty-city quality of a Baton Rouge, with the "time has passed us and we're fucked" quality of the working-class Worcester. It's difficult to describe beyond that, but it's as close as one can get. And strangely, I wouldn't mind living there if things ever did work out (this maybe due to my incredible self-loathing--believe me, how much creative fuel would a nihilistic bastard like me have in that cesspool of humanity? Bret Easton Ellis would have nothing on me--Less than Zero would look like fuckin' It's A Small World After All in comparison.)

And that's your guide to the city. Well, at least a tiny part of it (the USC campus and the Hollywood/Beverly Hills area that's a 30 dollar cab ride away). I want to thank Joe once again for the use of his couch for the past week, and his roommate Ricky Ricardo (not his real name, nor his real nickname) for his tacit approval.



As an epilogue, I'd like to make a small note of the wildfires in the SoCal area. Whereas many areas have been affected, fortunately Joe has kept safe within the confines of Broseph U, with nary of even a notice of extra healthy carbon monoxide in the air. As he explained, "I can't discern any smoke in the air that stands out from the usual smog".

Clearly, that should be on either a postcard or a billboard as you enter the city.

So You Find Yourself Visiting L.A. (Part II)

More Tales From Broseph U

One would think that there would be a lot to talk about when you're in LA. And that certainly is true. But you're going to get more USC stories. Because that's how I roll, bitch.


1. My mere presence confuses and frightens the female of the species: Of course, this fact is not something that was previously unknown to me. All my life, I have had to deal with this condition (though, strangely enough, small children love me). But the reactions usually aren't as egregious as one instance that occurred a couple of days ago, where one lady decided that since Joe and I were heading in one direction at the crosswalk, that SHIT I HAVE TO GO THE OTHER WAY OR THOSE DUDES WILL RAPE ME. At least I got rid of my beard, which has decreased the thoughts in women 43% that I would rape them. So I have that going for me.


2. The panhandlers are unusually aggressive around here: Joe apparently hasn't learned the art of ignoring the panhandler, and has instead attempted dialogue with them once they inquire about the availability of change on his person. When Joe informs the decrepit vagrant that he is unable to provide the necessary monetary compensation that would be used to exchange for a hot dog, said vagrant turns combative and abusive. And then chase after the two of us. Joe needs to enroll in Hobo Manners 101 next term.

3. I was apparently misinformed about the intellectual capacity of the average USC student: Before, I had felt that though the population of USC was made up entirely of Brosephs and their potential (willing) date-rape victims, but I was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt when it came to their academic capacities. After all, I came from a school where The Popped Collar was not just a fashion choice, but a Way Of Life. But that changed once I saw the Trojan student in action--on Trojan Vision.



It's one thing for students to prove themselves retarded when they do a stupid game show. That's understandable. But when you have a show that is supposed to analyze current events, and it is staffed by mouth-breathers, you've got a problem. And that was the case for "Platforums" (brilliantly retarded title by the way), which presented a totally incompetent take on the controversy behind the Armenian Genocide, run by a moderator who had clearly not read the cue cards ahead of time. You had the token representative from the Turkish Student Group, who would parrot talking points lifted from any hyper-nationalistic source. It wouldn't be so bad if it seemed she had a grasp of the issues instead of merely memorizing specific phrases. To be fair, the Armenian student representative did not fare much better. Then you had Broseph With Tie who was content to ask such pointed observations as "What?" and "Dude, that was a long time ago". However, all spite should be held for the fourth member of the panel, which all too willingly took the position of Ignorant Jerkass American. She was clearly concerned that all this talk of genocide from eighty years ago was taking time away from her figuring out how to bed that second-string linebacker.



In other words, it was a proud moment for this degree-granting institution. What proceeded was a 15 minute trainwreck of a discussion, in which all the principals proved that they had little-to-no understanding of the subject, beyond a cursory look at a few CNN.com headlines. Fuck, they could have just taken a minute to read this retarded site right here and they would have been better informed.

And now if you excuse me, I have more hobos to avoid.

So You Find Yourself Visiting L.A.

The USC is "Broseph U" edition

As has been mentioned numerous times before, I am currently unemployed. However, unlike goddamn hippies, I am actively attempting to rectify the situation instead of spouting platitudes about "not working for my car" and "Simplify, Maaaaan!". And because I long to work in a city in which I'd be terrified to move anywhere. Movement, like fresh air and the Ohio State Buckeyes, is overrated. So I find myself in LA, whoring myself out to get a cool job. Because non-cool jobs are not worthy of my time.

And because Joe is lonely (and needs protection from his babies' mommas).


1. "Everyone is either a total nerd or a coke addict": I doubted Joe's initial description of his new school, but upon my arrival my Douchemeter promptly took a shit and died due to the overwhelming sense of "douche" in the air. My initial reactions were confirmed again and again as I walked around the campus, taking in the aura of supreme "brah" that exudes from everyone. Think of your stereotypical frat brother who wears an anklet and will totally listen to Jack Johnson with you, and you will get an idea of the average USC student.

Everyone is a Broseph.


2. The colors of maroon and gold have never looked so obnoxious: I was warned to be prepared for the overwhelming sense of school spirit that I would encounter. I would find myself in a sea of School-Sponsored Clothing. I didn't think it would be a big deal, considering that my own school had its fair share of school pride--everyone had at least a few pieces of Dartmouth clothing in their wardrobe--but once again, the advice was quite necessary. And I realized why Joe and his roommate had found it so obnoxious. It's because everyone's clothing appears to be brand new or only recently-purchased. They don't grow up wanting to go to the school, and appear to only show their support as a fad. They seem to never wash their previous clothes, and only buy another shirt to replace a dirty one.

That, and the combination of maroon and gold is awful (especially when combined with black).


3. Women are insane: Overheard at a USC-area restaurant: "One day, I want to get in a room with all my girlfriends, and we'll all just take some roofies and see what happens!"

I love LA