Things New Yorkers Hate Most About L.A.

New Yorkers use garbage piles like a compass to maintain their sense of direction, rendering their navigation skills useless in the face of L.A.’s wide open streets.

Far too gentle in comparison.

The brief moments of human touch this unethical policing tactic provide are the only thing keeping many New Yorkers going.

Los Angeles just sucks.

The pigeons in California are healthier, cleaner, and walk around with a glow that just lets you know they’re feeling good.

The burning hatred New Yorkers have for Los Angeles residents comes down to the fact that there are not nearly enough 9/11 museums for New Yorkers to stop by to remember the attacks.

There are a ton of restaurants that try to even it out by adding various meats and beans, but it’s just not a New York bagel.

It’s hard convincing any tried and true New Yorker that if they’re hungry at midnight, their only option is to go buy a used car so they can order from a Jack in the Box drive-thru.

Every New Yorker dreads the long train ride from Union Square to downtown Los Angeles, spending three days crossing 3,000 miles without sunlight, food, or bathroom facilities.

Oooh, and don’t even get ’em started on the inconsequential cultural signifiers!

Most New Yorkers have never seen a parking lot before, and those vast lawless driving spaces tend to frighten them.

I mean, can you even really call this place a city if it doesn’t have at least three Empire State Buildings?

Every Angeleno holds this opinion, and it drives New Yorkers crazy.

Unlike Angelenos, New Yorkers would struggle to live under the constant fear that Drescher could end them at any moment.

Most NYC transplants choose to live on the East Coast specifically to avoid the Legally Blonde star.

L.A.-dwellers are used to it, but New Yorkers find it exhausting to be constantly chased down the street by talent scouts looking to give them their big break.

Going to L.A. wouldn’t be such a hassle if everyone wasn’t required to write a personal love letter/eulogy to the place they’ll never forget but need to escape.

A city is supposed to have one big park, a few medium ones, and a fuckload of cement.