It is the Hollywood I love…The Oscars? All fake glam and glitter, and while I have a severe weakness for beautiful dresses, I hate the posing and I really hate false smiles. But the scene surrounding the Oscars was truly phenomenal, partly in its everyday madness and cheap sexual thrills, and partly in the crowds that thronged the sidewalks, the cops, the snipers.
I’m fairly certain…There was also the rather frightening suv with the protected hole in the window that I originally assumed was for drive-bys, can’t take the ghetto out of the girl I guess, but it is much more likely to be a paparazzi vehicle.
It really is an extraordinary scene really, from on the ground, and from the outside.
Hollywood…I still remember the first time I went there years ago, and how shockingly cheap and tawdry it was. I love it of course, the way I love dive bars and eccentrics, but it has nothing to do with the image projected out into the wide world, though the city has been trying to push all the poor, the junkies, the sexy out into the far-flung regions, preferably LA County. But here you can still fulfill all of your stripper and fantasy needs, and for pure entertainment value very little can beat it
There was also the official celebration of twenty five years of all-American pornography
And of course, strippers don’t just come here to shop… though it appears The Cave with its Girls Girls Girls is soon going out of business, and everything is on sale
Yeah, the above just makes it all quite sad really, and clearly crosses the line for me between capitalist exploitation of sex and women, and an enjoyable eroticism. But Hollywood crosses all kinds of lines.
Here’s Sponge Bob crossing another line
Pretty priceless shot if I do say so myself! This sort of thing inspires a whole cadre of folks who believe the world desperately needs saving, they are as entertaining as anything else really
And my favourite…and least judgment oriented
I’m a bit gutted that this turned out so blurry…But was very happy to see the son of god present and accounted for. And tolerant. Because it’s the people really, that make Hollywood shine
V, fighting a righteous cause. The Scientologists were out in force, as this is their heartland.
While the above was taken on the fly and therefore free, the below did cost me a dollar. Well, turned out I didn’t have any change so it cost Jose a dollar…he’s a good sport
But the best shots are free
Twin goth girls, a pimp with sky blue shoes, Cat Woman AND Barney, though you can’t really see him. Who could ask for more than this? Live music? We had that too:
with crazy style too…there is almost more style here then you can handle
and you go from absurdity to absurdity, I really could not ask for more from a day then this.
King George? Who? The 1st, 2nd, and 3rd are all dead, so I’m in a bit of a puzzle to know exactly what he’s talking about…and who exactly will be entering the face-off with Snoop Dog, Tori Spelling, Adam Sandler, and David Hasslehoff. But the mental images that evokes are quite delightful really, I think we should have them face-off each other. And then have Sarah Ferguson take on the winner.
It was an amazing Sunday. Not least because we mingled, wandered into the Cat and the Fiddle, mingled, spent some time in the Frolic Room (where I lost all respect for Hugh Jackman as he pranced around singing silly songs, that was a bit tragic), headed back to the reminders of LA’s even darker side and what lies behind all the wealth and glitz of the Oscars
And then back home in downtown
The most phenomenal basket collection I have ever seen in my entire life. And its owner in purple velour robe and slippers. And from here to the whiskey bar at 7th and Grand, though we didn’t drink whiskey. We did play pool. I am phenomenally bad. But I won the last game after two perfect shots, and the high from that was pretty astounding. And then we walked to Tacos Mexico, found the Broadway Bar closed, so then we went home. And I laughed too loudly and the man with the crazy bugged-out eyes who had been weaving around the bus and swatting at people as they passed him stood up, walked over to us, and asked Jose (being a gentleman I spose) “what the fuck are you laughing at mother fucker, you laughing at me?” But luckily that was our stop, the bus driver was calming the guy down, Jose didn’t back down nor did he provoke, and so he didn’t get whipped around the head with the guys heavy “gold” chain that was missing a link and he’d been trying to…er…fix, the whole ride. Ah, the excitement of the 4 after 11 pm. Or any time.
Much as I hate L.A., I love it. I love the pulsing vibrant non-cosmetic beauty and life and heartbreak of it. I always wonder why you would chose the other.