“Steven Spielburg is unavailable.” “Then get me his non-union, Mexican equivalent!”

On Friday, my dad and I took a trip up to Hollywood to bum around and see the sights. I vaguely remember going once before when I was about 13 and not having a particularly good time, but that’s because we took one of those tours of the stars’ homes and it went a little something like: “This is Barbra Streisand’s hedge. She actually owns this hedge. If you could see through this impenetrable hedge, you would actually see Barbra Streisand’s home, but, as you can see, the hedge is completely blockading the home. We will sit here for a few more minutes until you’re completely satisfied with the pictures you’re taking of the hedge. Next, we will see a row of trees formerly owned by Clint Eastwood, and an alltogether different hedge that might belong to Tom Cruise’s poolboy. ” Booooo-ring.


They were preparing for the Sunday’s Academy Awards, and since rain was anticipated, the walkway for the stars was covered by plastic tarps. The first place I demanded to go to was the Frederick’s of Hollywood Lingerie Museum, because…well…sometimes I don’t have a very good reason to do the things I do. Unfortunately, Roadside America led me astray as the Frederick’s of Hollywood had closed the Lingerie Museum portion of their store some three years ago because people would come in to ogle where celebrities had nestled their boobs and not buy anything. I, personally, would’ve bought something from the Frederick’s of Hollywood IN Hollywood, but shopping for trashy lingerie isn’t high on my list of priorities when my dad is standing right next to me. Gross. They did have about five celebrity designed bras/corsets on the back wall, which were all pretty nifty, but a burly dude in a suit with a white earpiece who was obviously playing at being an FBI agent yelled at me when I made a move to take a picture. 2408_53774678939_6620723_n

This is the entryway to the theater where they were holding the Academy Awards. The red carpet was already laid, but it was entirely covered with plastic to keep it clean, or keep the plebes off. Even through a layer of plastic, I was pretty geeked out to be walking on the red carpet. 2408_53774663939_6852581_n



  After we’d seen all of the Oscar replicas we’d ever care to see, we wandered down the road to the mandatory Hollywood pit stop, Grauman’s Chinese Theater.   Here, we’ve got Darth Vader dancing with Wonder Woman, while Batman does his thing in the background. I find it thrilling to my childish soul that some people are making a living prancing around in costumes all day, taking pictures with tourists. 2408_53774693939_3470953_n

I like to imagine someone telling William Shatner that he’s signing it wrong, and him rebutting them not to correct him, as it sickens him. 2408_53774698939_4143505_n

My dad has teeny tiny hands compared to Steven Seagal! 2408_53774703939_5765038_n

Many ladies would compare their footprints to the legendary Marilyn Monroe. 2408_53774708939_3582020_n

I am not many ladies. You know what they say about guys with big feet, yes? They have to go to specialty shoe stores.


After we tired of being propositioned by Darth Vader, we decided to stop into Ripley’s Believe It Or Not Odditorium, which is the sort of thing that’s right up my alley. Had I known that the Hollywood Museum next door had sets from Jaws, I would’ve elected to go there instead, but I still stand by my decision. 2408_53774778939_6725939_n



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Robert Ripley looked like a goddamned goofball. In every picture, he’s got that weird pedo smile, and he’s just one of those guys whom you can picture walking around, going “DURP DE DURP, I’m an adventurer, DURP DURP DURP.” He durp de durped around for thirty-five years, exploring the world, seeing places few people of his time had ever heard of, from the tombs of the Ming Emperors in China, to a town called Hell in Norway. He actually started on this course after his dreams of pitching pro baseball were destroyed when he shattered his arm during a training game. He was quite famous for his time, voted the most popular man in America, above movie stars, sports figures, and even President Roosevelt. He had fans among the rich, the poor, and people of all ages. His most famous ‘fan’, however, was a man who made it his life’s mission to try and prove Ripley was a liar–for twenty-six years, he wrote letters to people featured in the Believe It or Not! cartoon attempting to find factual errors. ‘Believe it or not’, he wrote over 17,000 letters, but never received a single reply that contradicted one of Ripley’s statements. Upon his death, his widow donated his vast collection of correspondence to Ripley, and some of it is now on display at the various Odditoriums. Ripley dressed eccentrically, collected torture weapons from Germany, was afraid to use the telephone due to a fear of being electrocuted, and had many cars but couldn’t drive. All in all, I think we would’ve gotten along swimmingly. Plus, it couldn’t hurt to be around someone who manages to look even goofier in photographs than I do! 2408_53774738939_7787086_n Do you see the skull or the kids playing chess? 2408_53774728939_3352351_n

This is a mask made from faces flayed from slaves. That may or may not be standard practice when I rise to the dictatorship.


This is an old chastity belt–my dad and I were laughing so hard about it that I couldn’t manage to take a non-blurry picture. What were we laughing about? Well, so, sure. This metal contraption will keep invading penii from breaching the hull, but after a woman has worn one of these for a number of years, would you even want to go down there? I imagine it’d smell. BAD. Like, leg just out of a cast bad. Could you crap through a hole about the size of a quarter? What are you, a Dairy Queen Soft Serve Swirl machine? 2408_53774763939_7818660_n Here, we captured our shadows on the wall. 2408_53774773939_860789_n Peta is going to splash this hoity toity fish with red paint. FUR IS MURDER, YOU SEA KITTEN! After our adventures, we had lunch at Mel’s Diner, talked smack about other family members, and stored away some energy for the second half of our day, which deserves an entirely separate post. Expect it tomorrow-ish!

12 Comments “Steven Spielburg is unavailable.” “Then get me his non-union, Mexican equivalent!”

  1. starladear13 February 26, 2009 at 11:02 pm

    Looks like you had a good time, I’m jealous!

    1. admin February 27, 2009 at 12:09 am

      It was a great day! I think it helped that both my dad and I were overtired (my flight got in late, and we got up early to drive to LA) so we both had a massive case of the giggles.

  2. weaselmom February 26, 2009 at 11:13 pm

    Apropos of nothing, who would go to the effort and expense of creating a fake tombstone and misspell “atheist”? I am athy, you are athier, he is athiest? What were they thinking?

    1. admin February 27, 2009 at 12:08 am

      I know, it’s like they were trying so hard to be clever that they broke their brains!

  3. darth_nater February 27, 2009 at 12:36 am


    1. admin February 27, 2009 at 8:48 am

      I try to balance the bitching with high-class nerdery.

  4. agentdanak February 27, 2009 at 5:10 am

    johnny depp wears skechers. i can tell, because i used to own a pair that made that same print 😛

    1. admin February 27, 2009 at 8:47 am

      I thought I recognized that sole pattern!

  5. aquariumspast February 27, 2009 at 4:03 pm

    Why doesn’t Godzilla have a footprint/signature?

    How small were Marilyn Monroe’s feet?

    You are both educational and too funny…

    You’d be the teacher people would hope they’d get, until it came time to lay down the law, which might get a little scary…

    1. admin February 28, 2009 at 7:07 am

      1. I imagine he’s not all that literate.
      2. Well, the heels give the illusion of tiiiiiiiiiiny feet, but I’ve read she wore size 7, which is pretty average.
      3. That’s one of the nicest compliments I’ve ever received, thank you!

  6. doctoreon March 6, 2009 at 10:04 pm

    I journal stalked you just to say, I’m so glad I don’t live three blocks from the Kodak, anymore. Oscar week sucks if you actually want to drive anywhere.

    1. admin March 6, 2009 at 10:38 pm

      I don’t even want to imagine how bad traffic gets around there. Even at 2pm, the nearby intersections were crazy busy!

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