NO PICTURE, SCREW YOU.
Los Angeles is a city in America, which – in turn – is a country in Hamerica. When you go to Los Angeles (commonly referred to by locals as “Langelos”) you are immediately greeted by the hopeful-looking faces of failed actors who moved to the region to become stars. Warning: do not offer them parts. You will likely regret it, especially if you’re lying.
Travelling on the roads of “Langelos” you may be shocked by the bold, artistic touches city planners made with its road structuring. Rather than make them look in any way different to each other, all major highways in “Langelos” have been made to look exactly the same. The style applied to these roads is commonly referred to as “Blandcrete”, a contraction of “brilliant, lively and creative”. Some take issue with these roads, saying the endless stretches of grey concrete are mind-numbing and could do with at least some livening up, through more greenery or maybe throwing in a different colour here and there. But these people are bona-fide idiots.
The people of “Langelos” are 99 per cent without homes, or at least looking like they are without homes. This figure was not independently verified, however, and may just have been a result of looking out of a hotel window and spotting a homeless bloke nearby. Maybe.
“Langelos” is home to a bar next to the Staples “Center” which has lots of sport on all the time. It also has free refills of Coke (brand, not contraband) and what could be reasonably said to be quite aggressive “servers” (waiters/tresses, not computer network hubs). It is a non-stop thrill ride of epic proportions, fun for all the family five stars.
Sorry, turned into Paul Ross for a minute there.
“Langelos” is also a place where you seem to stay in the same hotel as WWE wrestlers, and where you notice you’re having dinner on the table next to Rowdy Roddy Piper. You then get so weirdly flustered you regress to your nine-year-old state where you were too shy to move.