Betch Factor: 9.5 The Betch Who Lives There: is chill but oh so intense. Who cares if Kate Winslet is in line at Coffee Bean behind you? So what if you mupload? You definitely won't ask what it was like when Jack let go like a stupid fucking New Yorker would. Every LA betch is a celeb wannabe but she's also like, so over it. Everyone who's anyone has some connection to a celeb like, “my drug dealer is the Kardashian's brother's drug dealer!” or “I party with Rumer Willis.” (Ew.)
The LA betch went to Brentwood, Crossroads or Harvard-Westlake for high school and dresses hipster chic, except when it's frigid at 60 degrees so she wears boots and a winter jacket. She drives a Range Rover, but maybe her dad just got her a Prius to go with the organic dining hall he donated for her at USC, which she'll never #5 eat in because she's too busy getting DUIs.
LA betches love to say they're from LA because it automatically means that they're better than everyone. LA is one of the few cities where it's betchier to actually live in it than just outside of it. Call me when the combined property on your street is worth more than Paraguay. Would anyone want to watch a show called Omaha: 68104? Only if it's about knocked-up tweens and called Teen Mom 2. A Betch Who Visits Should: be around for Coachella in Palm Springs, where every betch gets decked out in Indie clothing and stays in nice resorts and takes Polaroids and “appreciates” the music. Go to Cross Creek in the 'bu in the summer, Katsuya for the betchiest sushi around, and try to spot celebs at Urth Cafe, Lemonade or Toast. (Really, what's next? Breakfast at Omelette? Lunch at Air? Dinner at Ranch Dressing?)
After talking about the downward dog with your manicurist, you'll get some froyo. It'll be easy to find because LA is filled with fucking Pinkberry and its imitators. If LA is Pinkberry with its trendy and expensive “healthy” froyo, New York is Tasti-D-Lite with its 11 health violations, homeless hobos sleeping outside the door, and workers taking mandatory Prozac.
Shop on Melrose for the alternative betch, Robertson for the classic betch, or Rodeo Drive for the betch who wants to take pics of herself with a street sign. Go #20 clubbing on Sunset or in Hollywood or anywhere Lauren Conrad would go. A drunk betch might think about late-night eating at the food trucks in Venice.
The Betch Who Moves There: goes straight for the medical marijuana clinic. But I'm prescribed! The Betch Avoids: traffic. Everywhere in LA takes twenty minutes! Or does it? Would've gotten a 10 if not for: the lack of people keeping it real. Everyone in LA is so fucking nice all the time, or at least pretends to be. You know how we feel about nice girls. There's the #41 fake smile, and then there's LA, where almost everyone you see has had surgery to make their fake smile permanent, like Adrienne Maloof, or the Joker.