Day 2:




The next morning it was time to check out. Now I don't know exactly what Uterine Artery Embolization is, but I suspect that it's something bad for the ladies. And thank the Lord for this new Fibroid treatment that they've discovered. And do we really need an hour and a half to discuss what's new with urinary incontinence?




On the road again, with only about 4 hours sleep and a headache.




Where to now?




Awww yeah, Galaxy Burger. This place holds a special place in my heart because this is where Mike picks up the best breakfast burritos known to humankind and brings them to our Butt-Numb-A-Thons. I had just been talking about how sad I was that we didn't have time to fit in an early Summer Butt-Numb-A-Thon and that a breakfast burrito sure would be good, and then... Shazam! There we were. Even the ever-present ball and chain couldn't temper my excitement.




Yes, the bald guy asked the question, so here's the picture. Afterwards, Mike pointed out that the big guy on the left was the Galaxy Burger owner.




Scrum-diddly-umptious!




Then a sheriff's deputy asked about the ball and chain, and even wanted a picture. She actually stopped eating her breakfast to retrieve her cell phone from the squad car to take a photo.




Apparently this weekend was turning out to be more expensive than originally planned. What was extra cash needed for?




The movies, baby! We ended up fitting in a mini-Butt-Numb-A-Thon.




We saw Ocean's 13, Hostel II, and Knocked Up. I love movies.




Shrek doing his best Mike Tellez impersonation.




Separated at birth.




Yes, they actually made me sneak into the movies with that damn ball and chain.




And look, Lois Heilemann even joined us for a movie.




Later that afternoon we headed to our next destination and saw a ghetto tow job on the 101 freeway. Just as Brian leaned over to take the picture Mike yelled out the window, "Check out my camera!" Brian was busted.




This was either a gang sign that meant he was going to pop a cap in Brian's ass, or everything was O-Tay.




We passed the Central Jail where Paris Hilton was rearrested and returned the day before, after being released for "medical reasons".




Zoom in.




Los Angeles City Hall.




Downtown L.A.




A Downtown L.A. tunnel.




More Downtown L.A.




The Bonaventure Hotel, our residence for the second night.




Why do I suddenly have the urge to pee?




In our room Brian plans the night's festivities.




Me.




The Buddhists are horning in on the Gideons' territory. See, this is how holy wars begin.




A shot from our hotel room.




Our room number was 1666!




We had some time to kill so we headed up to the world-famous restaurant at the top of the hotel.




A shot from there.



Why is the restaurant so famous?




Brian stopped to admire some Bonaventure art before our next adventure...




...Dodger Stadium.




Brian forgot a sweater so he brought along a blanket.




The best thing about going to the game is that they let me leave the ball and chain at the hotel since it was highly unlikely stadium security would allow it into the park.




This was especially fortunate considering we had to scale several very steep flights of stairs to get to our seats.




From the parking lot one can see the Bonaventure Hotel.




Brian (and blanket) shows of the nosebleed altitude in which our seats are located.




Mike's muscles are bigger than Dodger Stadium.




By the time we reached the reserved level, bought our food (grilled Dodger Dogs, nachos, peanuts, Crackers Jacks, and drinks), and finally found our seats it was the top of the 6th inning and Matt Stairs of the visiting Toronto Blue Jays was at bat.




30 seconds later (check the scoreboard clock to see that I am not exaggerating) Stairs had homered and the score was 1-0. It turned out to be the only run of the game as the Dodgers lost in pathetic fashion.




You gotta be kidding me.




At least we hadn't missed any action.



Throughout the entire game there was a special fan sitting just to my right in the row behind me that would let out these ear-splitting yelps whenever the Dodgers made an out. And this happened quite often, scaring the hell out of Brian and me each time.



I even recorded his reaction to the final out of the game.




Around the 8th inning Brian looked past me with a look of excitement as some guy sat in our row that had a little baby hand with tiny nubs where his fingers should be. Mike was supposed to take a picture of us while capturing the dude's baby hand in the background. Suffice it to say, Mike's photography skills leave much to be desired.




Then the dreaded Dodger Stadium traffic. No worries, though, since I had strategically parked in anticipation of the ensuing madhouse.




On our way out Brian tells me (since I'm driving) that we need to rush back to the hotel because he forgot the tickets to our next event. So after breaking several traffic laws I pull up in front of the hotel only to have Brian, after jumping into the driver's seat, inform me (with Mike laughing in the background) that he actually had the tickets but that I needed to go up to our 16th floor room to get the ball and chain. Yeah, out of a world population of 6 billion people, these are the two I have chosen as best friends.




We finally make it to Hollywood. I stuck my camera out the window to catch a shot of the Cinerama Dome.




As we were headed down Sunset Blvd. Brian was gutter sniped by an MTA bus, and I got a picture of it as it passed. Public Transportation 1, Brian 0.




At the next signal Brian showed the true power of a Toyota Sienna Minivan, leaving Ralph Kramden in our exhaust, tying the score.




We found parking and the ball and chain were reattached.




Just in time to be publicly humiliated at a comedy club. Damn.




After all that rushing around I was left to sit on Sunset and wait for the early show to end.




Brian, still with his blanket.




Brian informed me that one more person would join us this night, and there he was with the valet.




Giancarlo Volpe in full effect!




While waiting outside for the Midnight show, Jon Lovitz came strolling by with the owner of the Laugh Factory. I was in the middle of asking him for a picture when the show let out and I lost him in the deluge of bodies. Yeah, that's the ticket. But guess who came sauntering out after his set: Dane Cook. Yeah, boyyy! This guy not only took a pictures with me (he even held the bowling ball) but also patiently hung around and took pictures with everybody who wanted one. Nice guy, that Dane.




Once inside, Brian not only made sure we were right next to the stage, but that I was seated next to the stage steps. Mike kept pushing the ball in an attempt to bring it to the attention of the comedian. Yet once the comedian started riffing with the audience, whom do you think he nailed? Big Mike Tellez, of course. After making a couple of muscle jokes, the comedian then went after Giancarlo, but the Italian Stallion immediately jumped up and deflected the attention onto me by announcing that we were celebrating my bachelor party, while pointing at the ball and chain. And wouldn't you know, it worked. Giancarlo is forever a Comedy Bender (see, he worked on Avatar: The Last Air Bender).




But the guy who stole the show was Ed, an old dude originally from Pittsburgh, now residing in Calabasas, who has been married to his wife for 33 years. How do I know all this about Ed? He was constantly talking about himself, drawing the attention of the comedians to himself. But the kicker...




...Ed was hooked up to an oxygen tank, opening up the flood gates of jokes. So from a guy who would have been skewered by jokes all night, I thank you.




It turned out the CTA (California Teachers Association) was having a huge conference at the Bonaventure this weekend. That meant that Jim Hall, our union rep, would be there. That also meant that his sweet motor-tricycle was there. And you know what that meant. Vrooom!




By the time we got up to our room at 2:30 a.m. I was in the mood for a bunch of pornography at a reasonable price. Now where could I get a basket of naked chicks for less than $11. Holy Pornocopia, Batman!