Per my usual life, i woke up dissapointed... because i woke up. but i get up and remember that if I didnt wake up, i could have reincarnated into Trisha Payta's baby and thats the literal last thing I want. so i go my merry little way and start the beautiful day in downtown LA.
But as my mom always says, "A beautiful day in LA is 90% because of the weather." and i have to agree. 90% of the reason i love LA is because of the weather. its bipolar, much like my mother.. both my parents actually. I may need to schedule a meeting with a therapist because I too might be bipolar. anyways, the LA weather is the equivalent to my parent's mental state. its hot.. then its hotter.. and then apparently its raining? then its hot again.... then oh shit theres fires.. and then- Im going off topic, anyways. i love LA, because the weather is shit, and I also love LA for its exquisite taste in music.
I'm in a mood to explore. LA is a big city, so naturally there are big places to explore. I decide to go to the Hollywood sign. I'm a huge music fan. i sit on the sign like that one episode of Jessie where they get stuck on the Hollywood sign.. i hope i fall but I also dont want to be Khloe Kardashian's baby.. this author is armenian and i dont want to be armenian a second time. ive had my fun. next I want to be a pigeon.. but an LA pigeon. and i need to eat. LA is big on food. and I'm going to be big on food.
> You say "i need to eat. "
i need to eat. and i want to eat. and i'm hungry. and this is a very good reason to eat. and in LA, food is everywhere.
So I'm going to eat. I go up to Urban India restaurant in LA which people should check out because they are amazing this is coming from a real LA person i am not joking eat their shrimp masala its so good omg
And the next morning, I wake up. and i'm disappointed. because i did not reincarnate as any of the animals on the sign. and i can't be a pigeon because apparently they are only in LA. the Pidgeon's in New York? myths. the pigeons in britian? also myths. all pigeons have decided they are going to be like my armenian tatiks, papiks, morkurs, horkurs, kerkins and keris and they are all going to migrate over to LA because wow right? so anyways. I am dissapointed as always, but its ok because i am not Rihanna's baby. so once again. I get up and decide to make Ruben from Full House from Armenia TV's coffee, and I drink it very beautifully because why wouldn't I . then I go to my new job.
I got a new job. well, i got a few new jobs actually. but its the one i will be talking about. I got a job at Royal Fresh, where all my culture goods are. From Piknik cheese to Ikra, from everything your precious armenian heart could want. its the perfect job.. but of course i will only be getting this job because of my connections and not because of my merit and not because of my hard work. But it makes no difference to me. I am still getting paid in ikra, which I love tp eat.. mmmmm ikra. and i get to go to work everyday and make ikra in different varieties.
Theres only one problem. it is a long commute. the author doesnt know what that word means so we are changing subjects. i quit my job as a Royal fresh worker because I got tired of the music they played and went back to being an unemployed LA man. and the author goes to work. and of course they play music while they are driving you to work. but the author is glad he is not Ruben anymore. he can finally go to work and be himself. i actually woke up happy this time but that was ruined because I found the dsmp kids making tik toks infront of the public toilet in an LA park, which I desperately needed. so I threw them out of the nearest window I could find, and went on my jolly way to piss on planet earth.
After work, I head to the nearest bar to meet my friends for some drinks.
My new friends are mostly Armenians, and some of them have Armenian last names. Voskanyan, Hovsepyan, Nazaryan, Samvelian, Ajemian, Keshishian, so on and so forth. many names of many origins. we all met in small spots in LA; Tujunga, glendale, Van Nuys, anywhere honestly. its impossible to go somewhere and not find relatives or people who know relatives or people you know of but dont know you or even just complete strangers you know are armenian. Its like you are getting paid to go to the kebab store and ask for lamb, you just keep on getting more meat. I go home to make barbeque but I stop because I remember my cat is vegan.. so I continue to eat anyways, because i am not.
the author continues drinking and having fun with his new found Armenian friends.
the next day, I wake up and its like nothing happened. and then I remember. and it hits me. we had finished the whole shish of Ararat, and I am having a hangover with my good friend Nare, she is very cool. has been like my big sister since we met. Nare too doesnt remember anything from last night. but we have decided to not go to the bar anymore because we are not the type of people to go out and get smashed every night. This author is asexual he doesnt need to be hammered everyday of his life, he has friends who like him for him, and he has a quest to not reincarnate into Soulja Boy's baby. and thus another day begins
the same pattern repeats, wake up proud that i am not a celebrity's baby, I get a job, enjoy it, quit, get food, be armenian, see my friends, reminice about memories because I had to use google maps to remember names of resturants and stuff in LA and now im crying as I write this part of the AI dungeon story, and then I sleep till the end of my days and then i choke on a skittles piece from 2020 thus making it illegal in america. end of story.
A/N: this wasnt supposed to be about being armenian but.. after mentioning Khloe Kardashian I had to keep the theme? and it went completely off topic goodbye. But I am genuinely armenian and this was just me trying to remember my favorite spots in LA and unconrollably sobbing while going through google maps.
YOU ARE READING
AI dungeon shit that just happened idk
Humorcustom is the best option eat my assjuice
