A few things that don’t suck about L.A.:

Car chases. Let’s take a span of about ten years of frequent visits to L.A. – I think I’ve only had two trips in which I didn’t get to witness a live car chase on TV while I was in town.  Granted, most aren’t high-speed chases, more like casual cruises on the highway with about two dozen cops in tow. But that doesn’t matter – it’s still motherfucking car chases!

Bail bonds TV commercials.  You know you’re fucking hardcore when there’s enough bail bonds business to warrant (I kill me) commercials on TV.  But it’s even hardercore when these commercials feature kids! L.A. is so bad ass.

Porsche Panamera. Remember in “Get Shorty” when Travolta got everyone driving a minivan, quickly making it the voiture du jour for the Hollywood elite? That’s what the Porsche Panamera is today. There seem to be more Panameras per capita in L.A. than any other city. And before you give me grief, do fuck off, I love the Panamera. I’ve grown a fondness for four-door interpretations of modern classics.  Top two favorite cars right now: Porsche Panamera and the Mini Countryman. I’ve got two kids to haul around now – fuck it, I need those back doors and back seats.

Pink’s Hot Dogs.  A ridiculous hot dog joint so over the top, the hot dog itself is completely irrelevant.  At Pink’s, the hot dogs are merely a vehicle for the gastronomical equivalent of a holiday party grab bag.  No one gives a shit about the hot dog itself, it’s all about how wacky you can top that hot dog.  On my first trip to this place a few years back, I figured “go big or go home”, so I ordered a hot dog topped with pastrami, chili, cheese and onions.  I think I blacked out in the parking lot after that.

Doctors on the beach. Technically in Venice, but fuck it, it’s close enough.