The Most Annoying Converstion in the World

Imagine hearing the worst conversation of your life over and over and over. Each time you hear it, it gets worse than the time before it. Ladies and gentlmen, this is now my life. I realized it on both my flight to New York and again on way back from New York. It was harken of the scene at the slovenly shrinks office in Office Space (Each day is the worst day in my life.....insert Ron Livingston looking like Mick Fleetwood after intercourse). This conversation is of course "The LA Conversation".

This is the worst conversation on Earth. Imagine yourself as a lap dog. Remember the first time you watched The Sound of Music with either your mother or 6th grade music teacher. Be Stephen Segal's Agent. All of the above embody my anxiety and hatred every time I hear this conversation.

I have listened to this exact same fucking converstion since I moved out here. Nearly every fucking single fucking day. I love it out here, but this is the 1 ( I mean #1) thing that will drive me to start a brush fire. Right next to that goddamn Sign.........So I bet you know what is coming but let me get to the crux of this fair nothing. I was on my flight to New York, sitting next to a 45 year old man with a nipple ring, and reading a hipster book (f-u i know you are thinking I am a cliche junkie for reading Chuck Klosterman on a flight to JFK). In a chapter entitled "The Sixth Day" Chuckie talks about the LA Conversation. Set at the pool of the Standard Hotel a no personality cheesefart waiter starts blabbing to some rockstar at his table wherein we learn of his desire to model, write, publish, network, party, infer coccaine use, party with B-listers at AREA, and move to Silver Lake because of the rocking grunge art scene.

Hearing someone else document the exact same conversation you have wanted to commit Sepuku to on a daily basis was very refreshing. I mean he hit the damn conversation word for goddamn word. Yeah I blasphamizeded but I believe the big man was behind me on the subject matter. This conversation most definitly was first started in Haites.........

#2

After a refreshing weekend in the 'Hattan (and Jersey!) I was actually looking forward to the dry Japanese Farts blowing in from the pacific.........Until I heard IT! Behind me sat a 45 year old man dressed in Vans, designer jeans, a black button up with flames on it, sport coat, hair like boby dylan and a face that looked like Quentin Terrantino morphed with Bill Murry. He struck up a conversation with a 21 year old who grew up in Scranton, PA > Mooved to a DC suburb in Maryland before going to school for acting, getting finance from Pops, moved to the Valley, takes acting classes, gets head shots, networks, works in a muffin ship in West Los Angeles (insert hairless men wearing daisy dukes with rainbow patches on the backleft butt cheek), goes to parties, see's the guy from star treck at The Grove, met Jessica Alba, and is not pulling her amazing contacts until the right moment where she will thus launch her career.

5 Fucking Hours of this after 6 hours of flight delays! I only wished I was on the short end of Uma's Kill Bill Character's (note, not informed enough or well researched enough to remember her characters name) wish list. I have heard this conversation again today at work. I hear it every day. LA Bullshit Terrorism...........................You should be glad you don't live here......

Yo, on a different note, check out my new Air Jordan 1's Retro West Side Addition:

WESTSIDEEEEEE