Sometimes I feel like I don't have a partner
Sometimes I feel like my only friend
Is the city I live in, the City of Angels
Lonely as I am, together we cry
I drive on her streets cause she's my companion
I walk through her hills cause she knows who I am
She sees my good deeds and she kisses me windy
I never worry, now that is a lie
Sometimes I feel like my only friend
Is the city I live in, the City of Angels
Lonely as I am, together we cry
I drive on her streets cause she's my companion
I walk through her hills cause she knows who I am
She sees my good deeds and she kisses me windy
I never worry, now that is a lie
LA nights are madhouse nights.
— U.D.O., "Animal House"
Priya: I'm in hell.
Topher: You're in Los Angeles. I can understand the mixup.
Topher: You're in Los Angeles. I can understand the mixup.
Dutch: The city's roads are literally paved with dead bodies. 50% of the world's known serial killers have spent at least a portion of their lives in Southern Califoria. Why do you think that is?
Lloyd: Everyone comes to Los Angeles to get famous.
Lloyd: Everyone comes to Los Angeles to get famous.
Angel: I mean, walking I get. But "Power Walking"? Why not just run for a shorter time? Weird. Plus, one of them hit him.
Cordelia (notices the shiner on Wes, gasps) A power walker did that?
Wesley: Apparently she felt I disrespected the Haklar's culture by killing it.
Cordelia: This town sucks.
Cordelia (notices the shiner on Wes, gasps) A power walker did that?
Wesley: Apparently she felt I disrespected the Haklar's culture by killing it.
Cordelia: This town sucks.
— Angel, "Belonging"
Fry: So you're saying these aren't the decaying ruins of New York in the year 4000?
Farnsworth: You wish! You're in Los Angeles!
Fry: But there was this gang of 10-year-olds with guns.
Leela: Exactly, you're in L.A.
Fry: But everyone is driving around in cars shooting at each other.
Bender: That's L.A. for you.
Fry: But the air is green and there's no sign of civilization whatsoever.
Bender: He just won't stop with the social commentary.
Fry: And the people are all phonies, nobody reads, everything has cilantro on it...
Farnsworth: You wish! You're in Los Angeles!
Fry: But there was this gang of 10-year-olds with guns.
Leela: Exactly, you're in L.A.
Fry: But everyone is driving around in cars shooting at each other.
Bender: That's L.A. for you.
Fry: But the air is green and there's no sign of civilization whatsoever.
Bender: He just won't stop with the social commentary.
Fry: And the people are all phonies, nobody reads, everything has cilantro on it...
— Futurama
They were making something new, magnificent and awful; and it did not include much that had been previously described as heaven.
— Historian R.L. Duffus (describing the mushrooming growth of the city in the early 1900s), Queen Calafia's Island: Facts And Myths About The Golden State
Look at that mountain
Look at those trees
Look at that bum over there, man
He's down on his knees
Look at these women
There ain't nothin' like 'em nowhere...
I love L.A.!
Look at those trees
Look at that bum over there, man
He's down on his knees
Look at these women
There ain't nothin' like 'em nowhere...
I love L.A.!
You'll always meet this one guy out in L.A, this real smarmy guy. He always says this: "Yeah, I love calling back east January 1. 'What are all you doin'? Snowed in, huh? Bummer. Me? I'M OUT BY THE POOL!! BWAHAHAHAHAAAA!!'" What a dick this guy is.
—Bill Hicks, Arizona Bay
When you’re waiting in line at a Taco Bell drive-thru late at night, you pretty much expect to see a plastered, no-tooth-having, crackhead mess wandering around between cars. But in L.A., the drunken Taco Bell drive-thru trolls are famous!
—Michael K.
, "So, How Is Charlie Sheen Doing?"
, "So, How Is Charlie Sheen Doing?"The fucking place should be wiped off the face of the Earth.
You live in Los Angeles and you are going to Reseda
We are all in some way or another going to Reseda someday to die
And the radioman laughs because the radioman fucks a model too
Gone savage for teenagers with automatic weapons and boundless love
Gone savage for teenagers who are aesthetically pleasing in other words "FLY"
Los Angeles beckons the teenagers to come to her on buses
Los Angeles loves... love
It is 5 am and you are listening to Los Angeles
It is 5 am and you are listening to Los Angeles
I am going to Los Angeles to build a screenplay about lovers who murder each other
I am going to Los Angeles to see my own name on a screen, five feet long and luminous
As the radioman says it is 5 A.M. and the sun has charred the other side of the world and come back to us
And painted the smoke over our heads an imperial violet
We are all in some way or another going to Reseda someday to die
And the radioman laughs because the radioman fucks a model too
Gone savage for teenagers with automatic weapons and boundless love
Gone savage for teenagers who are aesthetically pleasing in other words "FLY"
Los Angeles beckons the teenagers to come to her on buses
Los Angeles loves... love
It is 5 am and you are listening to Los Angeles
It is 5 am and you are listening to Los Angeles
I am going to Los Angeles to build a screenplay about lovers who murder each other
I am going to Los Angeles to see my own name on a screen, five feet long and luminous
As the radioman says it is 5 A.M. and the sun has charred the other side of the world and come back to us
And painted the smoke over our heads an imperial violet
—Soul Coughing, Screenwriter's Blues
O what a rush of ripe elan!
Languor on divans
Dalliant and dainty!
But the smell of burnt cocaine,
The dolor and decay
It only makes me cranky
O great calamity,
Ditch of iniquity and tears
How I abhor this place
Its sweet and bitter taste
Has left me wretched, retching on all fours
Los Angeles, I'm yours
Languor on divans
Dalliant and dainty!
But the smell of burnt cocaine,
The dolor and decay
It only makes me cranky
O great calamity,
Ditch of iniquity and tears
How I abhor this place
Its sweet and bitter taste
Has left me wretched, retching on all fours
Los Angeles, I'm yours
—The Decemberists, "Los Angeles, I'm Yours"
