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Every now and again I’m going to pull out one of my bizarre, what is even happening right now? (WIEHRN?) life stories. Let’s get this party started with one of my more famous tales. Also, this is completely true. Nothing has been fabricated or exaggerated. As far as we both know. This story takes place circa 2004. Living in Los Angeles was one of the most (bi)polarizing times of my life.  I’ve never had such a severe love/hate relationship with a place… or a person… or an idea… or a, well, you get it… in my life. My first real LA apartment was just off of Hollywood Blvd. & Western, tucked right in-between Little Armenia & Thai Town. Sounds kine of exotic, right? Yeah. No. Not so much.  To this day I swear the Armenian mafia lived in the building next to me. I’ll have another post on another day as to why my beliefs came to fruition, but for now, trust me. keep reading