“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.”

– Jack Kerouac On the Road

I remember recording myself reciting this quote on our family’s iMac in high school. I put it on my shuffle as a single .mp3 without any other songs so that it would just keep repeating itself in my ear as I fell asleep. I was 16. The idea was to brand it deep into my subconscious with the hope of it manifesting some outer effect on my behavior. I wanted to be cool. I wasn’t outgoing and figured this would help. I’m not sure whether it did have an effect on me, but I definitely still consciously tried to be cool. I mean I still do, just less deliberately.

Everyone’s concept of cool is different and mine was that: “Mad ones…mad to live…desirous of everything at the same time…burn, burn, burn…” Basically, people who live in the moment. Rockstars, vagabonds, artists, outcasts, hippies, rebels, tyrants. Cool people. Interesting people that live their own life and say what they want. That’s my idea of cool. Or it was.

Can people change? It’s kind of a mystery. Sometimes I get in these moods and get all amped to do nothing wrong, be all healthy, think long-term, logical. Make rational, boring decisions on the road to SUCCESS! Then the next day I’m back to my normal ‘Fun World’ paradigm. Do we strive to be better? Or do we just enjoy the ride and go with the flow? Can there be a balance?

Tell me this. If one guy lives his life eating bagels and cream cheese with coffee and cream every morning and he’s happy BUT he has a dad bod and dies of a heart attack at 60, and there’s another guy who eats healthy but he’s a little less happy because he can’t eat bagels and people also automatically assume he’s a douche because of his six-pack and he dies at say 80 (wow nice 20 more years of being old!) Which is better? I think about this stuff.

Thanks for Reading,

Andrew Hales

6:26 am

Los Angeles, CA





Deja Vu

I always end up embarrassing myself. I’ll look back at some posts and vlogs and just wanna take it all down. Go hide somewhere for a while. Social Media: Can’t live with it, can’t live without it. People that proudly proclaim “I don’t give a Fuck what people think of me” usually care the most. It’s so easy to see. Inevitably, human nature requires a feeling of belonging. No one wants to be cast out of the tribe. When you have something to confirm your inclusion, people evidently ‘Liking’ you, it keeps that insecurity at bay. At the same time, it never seems to be enough.

Luckily, as I’ve gotten older, I’ve slowly learned to care more about the important character traits in people. Honest, considerate, and kind have started to triumph over funny, famous, and hAWT. I’ve met some truly boring people out here in L.A. Good-looking people with million+ Instagrams/Youtube/etc. with nothing to say. All they want is more. I’ll recognize these tendencies in myself and that frustrates me.

I just had a crazy wave of Deja Vu pass over me. Deja Vu is fucked. Help.

Thanks for Reading,

Andrew Hales


Los Angeles

Elon Musk

There’s this thing, somewhat of a pebble in my shoe, a thorn in my brain, that’s always pestering me, always telling me to write. As cheesy as that sounds, here I am. I’m so happy for the 20-30 of you that read this blog. That’s flattering.

I’ve been good. This year hasn’t been too difficult. There’s definitely been some emotionally hard times, but emotions don’t really matter. Have you ever thought that? Like feeling angry or sad or depressed or motivated or happy AS FUCK! They’re just emotions. Flaky and whimsical and temporary. Did they accomplish anything? Are they gonna effect anyone else’s life? Not in the long term. Well, actually, sometimes they do. Sometimes people make very poor, long-term decisions out of impulse, so, ya definitely remember to motherfucking sleep on it. There’s this bad habit I have of living primarily in the moment. You’ve heard this. The kids that can wait fucking 15 minutes or something for TWO marshmallows instead of ONE right then end up being more successful in life. Long term vs. Short Term gratification. You get it. I get it. Everyone GETS it. Some of us are still going to eat ice cream though. We just. don’t. care. This all makes me go back to how much Free Will we actually have. I heard somewhere that Elon Musk truly believes we’re in a simulation. I wouldn’t be surprised. Of course, if that was the case then it wouldn’t even matter knowing that in the first place. Knowing whether or not this is all a simulation does not matter, nothing would change. The same way knowing if there’s a God watching over everyone. Meh, I dunno. I just know I SHOULD add to this blog more, but I can’t make any promises. Not at this point.

Thanks for Reading,

Andrew Hales

5:53 am

Los Angeles, CA


I have some lemonade in front of me sitting on my desk. It’s the expensive kind that’s fresh squeezed, from a popular LA restaurant, Lemonade. It’s not mine, I stole it from the fridge. I wrote, “I took the lemonade – Andrew” on the whiteboard and went back to my room. I needed it for chaser for the little bit of Ciroc left over from yesterday when Levi I and filmed my little Roast Myself Diss Track outside in the backyard.

“It’ll have the simplicity of all the shots in the backyard, with our creativity and enthusiasm making up for it in the editing and different angles, making do with what we got.”

Kind of how The White Stripes make do with their limited instruments, Jack White still manages to create music that saves people. It’s 1:53am on a Monday night and I’ve been reading and writing all day. I’ve been writing a bunch, just not here. This blog is meh. I prefer it that way. I never want there to be a point. Classic, Catcher in the Rye-Esque, Stream of Consciousness. Creative Writing. Aimless Words. Morning Pages. Whiny and indulgent.

I had one of those heroin naps today. The type that Louie C.K. describes as, “Deep African sleep, like it’s just an ancient.. mysterious..submerged.. in a river of warm chocolate and sleep was like a goddess whore just sucking me off and she’s a got a gold helmet and forty tongues and she’s speaking in a dead language and she’s feeding syrupy heroin into my penis while she’s sucking ‘uuh let this be my life please this be real’ “DADDY WAKE UP!””

It was nice, I woke up feeling good. My brain tissue felt repaired and reset. Hot tubby and calm. I made some coffee and ate a chocolate donut.

Thanks For Reading,

Andrew Hales

2:18 am

Los Angeles, CA


10 Habits I’d Like to Form

Goals are byproducts of habits. Don’t write down goals. Write down habits.

“Write it down, make it happen.”

  1. Not drinking alcohol at least 6 days of the week.
  2. Not smoking weed at least 6 days of the week.
  3. Not consuming bread, sugar, or meat at least 6 days of the week.
  4. Consistently uploading a 10-min+ vlog every day at 10 am.
  5. Consistently uploading a 20-min+ Chatting With every Wednesday at 10 am.
  6. Consistently uploading a 10-min+ prank medley every Thursday at 10 am.
  7. Reading for at least 1 hour every day.
  8. Writing for at least 1 hour every day.
  9. Consciously meditating for at least 10 minutes every day.
  10. Hike Runyon Canyon with friends and/or Bonnie at least once a week.

How & Why

  • Not drinking alcohol at least 6 days of the week.
  • Not smoking weed at least 6 days of the week.
  • Not consuming bread, sugar, or meat at least 6 days of the week.

I won’t buy any of these or keep anything in the house. I won’t eat out. I don’t want to drink or smoke anymore, period, but I say “at least 6 days of the week” so my mind will at least have a glimmer of hope when I do have the urge: “It’s ok, I’ll just have to wait until Saturday.” Saturday is cheat day because it’s the weekend and everyone else is usually going out. Also, balance is key and life is short.

I don’t want to drink or smoke anymore because it has proven time and time again to hinder me from staying productive, fogging up my focus and worsening my already fragile & sensitive brain. Same goes for sugar, bread, and meat. The ‘why’ of these first 3 habits is to ultimately achieve more mental clarity and focus. Obviously, they will also help me stay in shape.

  • Consistently uploading a 10-min+ vlog every day at 10 am.
  • Consistently uploading a 20-min+ Chatting With every Wednesday at 10 am.
  • Consistently uploading a 10-min+ prank medley every Tuesday at 10 am.

As a result of the mental clarity achieved with the first 3 habits, I’ll have more energy and drive to ‘just keep uploading.’ As a result of the reading, writing, and meditating habits I’ll have more ideas to execute. I’ll schedule days in advance with Chad, Levi, or Luke to film. If I feel burnt out, I’ll suck it up and press record anyway. I’ll remember how lucky I am to ‘play’ for a living and treat it like a normal 9-5. I’ll remember how shitty working at all the minimum wage jobs in college was and how much better I have it now. I will not whine, bitch, or complain. I will be happy and grateful for my role as an entertainer. From the endorphins and sense of accomplishment from uploading consistently the first few weeks, I’ll develop a rhythm that builds momentum and it’ll start to become effortless. Consistently uploading at the same exact time will slowly condition my audience to expect a new upload at the same time and will increase viewership. I’ll make more money. I’ll invest the money into better equipment and bigger projects. I’ll hire talented cinematographers and producers. I’ll learn to delegate. When people give me shit for my ‘success’ I’ll completely omit them from my life. I will no longer scratch with the turkeys and the sheep. I don’t need to be ‘down-to-earth’. If success requires suffering and sacrifice then so be it. I don’t need to be ‘happy’. Happiness is boring and comfort is insidious. I want to suffer. Carve me out of wood. Let’s go.

Thanks for reading,

Andrew Hales


Los Angeles, CA


Negative Nick

“I’m just trying to bring you back down.”

Nick (that’s not his name) and I were grabbing a beer in Salt Lake City somewhere in the fall of 2014. I had just posted a picture of my 95% naked body on Instagram as part of the inspiration for a video titled “Awkward Modeling” which we wouldn’t get around to filming for another year. It was raking in the likes and I was getting psyched about it when Nick facetiously muttered, “You’re really cool bro.”

“Why do you do that, why do you say stuff like that?” I replied defensively.

There’s a silent pause. We sip our beers. This type of energy had been an ongoing pebble in each of our shoes for the last year, and this was the first time I had said anything about it.

“I’m just trying to bring you back down.”

For the first time in a while, his voice carried a vulnerable tone of sincerity and pierced right through the buzz of our drinks. Slightly annoyed, I looked back down at my phone and continued to get lost in my shallow world of social media.

Another time in Vegas with a group of friends, we were all pre-gaming in the hotel room, surging our dopamine receptors with magnificently fake & euphoric confidence, gabbing about doing a sketch comedy show because we’re “So funny in real life! It would just be like workaholics! We’re all friends, we should do it!” Me: “Ya I’m definitely ready to try something new haha” Nick: “Ya, seriously, I don’t watch your videos haha” I roll with the punch like it’s nothing, “haha ya, they are all kind of the same…”

That was back in 2013. By that point I had been building LAHWF for about a year and was fairly used to criticism and ‘haters’, but when it came from one of my best friends who I considered really funny and had spiritual-like chemistry with, it just stung a little harder than normal.

I’m making it sound like Nick was a total asshole, and at times it certainly felt that way, but looking back now years later I realized how full of myself I actually was. The phrase “Don’t let it go to your head” flew right past me and left me floating around in a foggy, fabled fuck-I’m-great fantasy of falsehood. Hashtag alliteration. In my head, the more views I got, the more famous and richer and ‘great’ I became, and this bubble of ego just kept growing exponentially, parallel with my channel.

I distinctly remember one particular douchey thing I said that I never forgot. Nick had mentioned he ran into this girl that I had a dated for a month or two and I thoughtlessly remarked, “oh how is she? Is she over me yet? Hahaha”. Not laughing, Nick just looked at me confused and annoyed. I quickly backpedaled, “Oh wow, that was kind of a douchey thing to say huh.” His face eased a little, “uh, ya kinda haha.” This annoying, new aura I carried around naturally tormented Nick as well as a few of my other friends and I was completely oblivious to it. Nick was one of the few that called me out on it.

It’s interesting how you can sometimes look back at the way “negative” people treated you years ago and have a drastically different paradigm. My view of Nick and other “negative” people today is much more open-minded and accurate. He was only trying to bring me back ‘down to earth’. I could easily excuse Nick’s negative remarks as jealousy, or I could seek to understand where my friend of 15+ years was coming from. Your true friends will tell you when you’re being a douchebag. Of course, there’s always a balance.

Thanks for reading,

Andrew Hales


Los Angeles, CA









I couldn’t sleep tonight. Just another one of those nights. I do this at least a couple times a month. It’s 6:38 am now and the birds are starting to chirp outside. I’m laying on top of my bed with my clothes on. I didn’t even try to sleep; I knew I wouldn’t be able to. Just one of those nights. I’ll think a lot and get excited about potential ideas and projects. We can celebrate once it’s completed, but for now, it’s just thoughts in my head on top of my bed. “I Fought Piranhas” by The White Stripes is playing softly in the background. Bluesy and raw, cutting to the bone. Soulful & Timeless. What would Jack White do? I’m gonna make timeless, works of art. Stories that melt your face with intrigue. The psychic said I have star quality, so I’ll be a fucking star. “Do More, Have Less”-Nah more like: Do More, Have More. I’m gonna get a house in the hills, 4 floors deep into the mountain, starting with the mini ramp, then studio, then bedrooms then main floor with a view of the city. Black Maserati in a 3 car garage. Organic produce in the fridge. giant kitchen and stove top for cooking world class paleo meals every night. Books on books on shelves in the living room. Hardcover collection of all the classics. Ample reading light. Today is the first day of the rest of your life motherfucker. Run a little faster. Don’t accept the pain, enjoy the pain. Be grateful for the pain. Have gratitude for life itself and all it’s interesting ups and downs that keep us busy and sane. Drink more water. Flush out the toxins. Think long-term. Stay focused. Stay calm. Play for your cards right. Don’t be stupid. Make mistakes. Fail faster. Fail harder. Go for the jackpot. Don’t tell me, show me. Wow me. Make me say, “wow, nice job”. “I’m very proud of you.” “That was very impressive.” It’s never too late to change. We can all change at any point in life. You can choose to think differently. You can be conscious of all the choices you make in your life. Fuck all other attitudes on the subject. You can read every day for 30 days and make it a habit. The act of picking up a book will be second nature and within a few years, you’ll be one clever motherfucker. Be here now. Enjoy the pain. Love the pain. Accept discomfort. Progress. This is your life and it’s ending 1 day at a time. Let’s fuck shit up.

“Some people die at 25 and aren’t buried until 75.” – Ben Franklin

Thanks For Reading,

Andrew Hales

10:09 pm

Los Angeles, CA




I’ve been in a good place lately. It sounds weird but I have to say it’s just not that ‘exciting’. It’s boring. I don’t have much to write about. I haven’t had any reason to write in a while. I’m in this weird, blurry, content state of indifference. Stable. A down-to-earth, “dumb” state of ‘happiness’. I don’t really have anything to complain about. Passion? I’m not passionate anymore. What’s fucked up is that I don’t care that I don’t care that I’m not passionate anymore. Maybe I was never passionate in the first place. Maybe all these years my pretentiousness & ego got the best of me and blinded me from what I really am: a Businessman. Sometimes my pompous, irrational ego gets the best of me and I think of myself as this suffering artist with all this passion. He’s so passionate about what he does! You’re so passionate! I dunno, at this point, for some reason, I just. don’t. fucking. care. and I’m fine with that.

I’m gonna keep vlogging my wonderful, “depressing” life. We’re gonna keep doing the “boring” interviews. I’m gonna stay on my medication and stay consistent. I’ll get married around 32-36. Have a couple kids. Die around 70-80 years old. and That’s it. I don’t wanna be a star. I just wanna be normal. Fuck perfection. Fuck “greatness”. I’m over it.

Also, I’m gonna wake up tomorrow and have a completely new, opposite paradigm.

Thanks for reading,

Andrew Hales


Los Angeles, CA




I had an epiphany today. I don’t like sketches. I mean I love Louie and Broad City and Key & Peele, but I don’t want to do that. Non-fiction is my calling. Documentaries and interviews (and real pranks, but that chapter’s over). I’m not a character; I’m just myself. I talked about this realization with Chad (aka Cherdleys aka Character Authority) at Coachella. We both laughed at the fact that my ‘comedy’ is a byproduct of my authenticity. If and when I am funny, it’s an accident. I don’t like acting. The amount of mental focus it requires is something I’m nowhere near passionate enough to hone and get good at. If I really did enjoy it, I’d be calling up Chad and Blake every day and scheduling the time to film sketches, but every time I think about doing that I get this uncomfortable feeling of dread and cognitive dissonance. Why bother?

After lucking out on Youtube, somewhere down the road you get all this pressure to better yourself and take your “career” to the next level. “So! What’s next! You’re so funny! You should have Show!” Everyone expects you to grow and be funny or be awkward or whatever and that can be stressful. If you think about it, most of Youtube IS non-fiction. Vlogs are non-fiction. Technically they’re little documentaries of people exposing their lives and personalities to the world. Some things I could do the rest of my life without any dread: Writing. Editing. Interviewing. Directing. Journalism. Non-Fiction.

I’m so relieved the Chatting With series is slowly gaining momentum. I’ll be putting them on the main channel starting next week, shooting for every Wednesday. Chatting With Wednesdays. Bigger guests, better questions.

Thanks for Reading,

Andrew Hales


Los Angeles, CA


“What’s that?” My girlfriend asks pointing to the (now open) middle console.

I had strategically placed two Lexapro there to take discreetly while I visited her in Long Beach for the weekend. I take one a day, everyday.

“Oh that’s Lexapro, it’s an anti-depressant, I actually haven’t taken one today,” grabbing one and popping it in my mouth as nonchalantly as I could, as if I wasn’t hiding the fact that I take anti-depressants from her. I watched her face sink as I washed it down with a stray water bottle.

“Wow dang that suucks.” She wasn’t pleased. “What would happen if you stopped taking them?”

“I would just…be more…depressed than I already am!” a raise and smirk in my expression, trying to lighten the mood. She giggled a little.

“You’re not depressed though.”

“I know it’s because I take them.”

“Whatever, it’s a placebo.”

It’s difficult to describe what clinical Depression feels like because once you’re out of it and thinking clearly again, it’s hard to comprehend and remember how bad it really was. Your complete state of mind is in another dimension by itself. You’re entire reality is painted in relentless, ruthless negativity. The glass is half-empty and you simply can’t see it any other way.

I think the reason I started writing this post is because I’ve lately started to feel the Lexapro wearing off. Somewhere in the back of my head I knew it eventually would. Taking a pill to solve your inner struggle/growth?/am I really depressed or not-who knows!) with life is simply too good to be true. The natural laws of the universe won’t allow it.

Ok so I’ll taper off. I’ll be completely ‘sober’ again. Clean. Hell let’s maybe even kick coffee. Maybe if I simply stick to exercising hard as fuck everyday, drink lots of water, sleep, don’t prank people, don’t even worry about Youtube, just hide out and wait it out, write, read, be alone, over time my neurotransmitters will heal. I’ll achieve Homeostasis. 

I won’t laugh as much. I’ll be more serious. Quiet. I’ll stop weed completely. I won’t be able to handle it anymore anyway. I’ll stop drinking, well, I dunno about that. I’ll probably want to drink more. There is this thing people have told me about called self-control though. I should look into that.

I’m not worried. In fact, I’m a little excited. Music will sound better. Movies will be more moving. My orgasms will be more intense. It’s sounds totally backwards but I’ve kind of missed being miserable.

Oh well. Bring it on.

Thanks for reading,

Andrew Hales


Los Angeles, CA