Our original plans for lunch included the Saddle Ranch Chop House which has great food and a sweet mechanical bull. But while cruising down Sunset Blvd. Brian, with a devious grin in the back seat, suggested the French Market Place in West Hollywood. Yes, West Hollywood, where the men are men (and also prefer other men) and on any given day you might encounter Mr. Sulu. Of course Mike was unaware of the significance of our destination, even after I snapped this shot while turning a corner.
Just a sweet bus parked on Santa Monica Blvd.
Poor, naive Mike.
Brian's smile tells it all. Mike doesn't realize that the other guys around him are thinking, "What a cute couple." Had he noticed the Pink Panther boots in the window behind him...
...he might have been clued in. When we let Mike in on the secret, his reaction was, "Fuuuuuck." Word.
Brian and his Ruben sandwich. More importantly, though, is how much Brian enjoyed his pickle. Dude devoured the thing. I mean, it is West Hollywood, after all.
After lunch we checked out the stores inside the French Market place. While perusing the merchandise I felt like such a dickhead.
Nostalgia is a funny thing. When Brian discovered this doll of gay porn star Jeff Stryker it really took him back.
Mike finally warms to the situation.
Sunset Blvd is home to all types of entertainment, from comedy to pleasures of the flesh (not to mention Mike Cohen's wife hanging out).
To wash off some of the gay we made a pitstop at Hustler of Hollywood.
Mike holds a symposium on the advantages of Astroglide .
Brian is not quite sold on JackJelly.
WTF? Somebody stole my moves and put them a book?! Well, it is true that imitation is the greatest form of flattery.
Brian found Ron Jeremy's Hustler's walk of fame plaque. Hmm, perfect fit.
As we were driving down Sunset, Eagle Eyes Tellez spotted a pink Corvette and thought he saw Angelyne.
I hang a quick u-turn and sho' 'nuf it's her car.
While trying to park we watched her walk into Aah's. We followed her in and Mike found her looking at toys. I approached her and asked if she would take a picture with us.
She agreed but only if we bought one of her magazines for ten bucks.
Mike whips out a ten spot and we're in business.
I'm a bit disappointed that all we get for our hard-earned money is a shot of her eyes.
So I snuck a quick shot when she wasn't paying attention. Sheesh, now I understand. I wanted to give her the magizine back to use.
A close-up for you Michael Jackson fans.
And for you sick bastards.
Speaking of sick bastards....
Just doing some shopping in Aah's.
Brian tried to freak out Mike.
I'm just trying to keep abreast of the situation.
What happens in Hollywood stays in Hollywood (unless, of course, I have my camera with me). zteecher.com, baby!
My rendition of the final minutes of River Phoenix in front of the Viper Room. Brian was so offended he wouldn't even get out of the car to take the picture. Thank you, Mike.
When we parked at Hollywood and Highland Mike proceeded to change into his "Red Carpet Shirt." Why?, you may ask. "Coz every girl's crazy 'bout a sharp dressed man."
Not to be outdone, Brian found his own movie premiere apparel.
Down's Syndrome Spongbob. So sad.
We encountered a Fat Elvis. Though popular belief has it that The King died from a drug overdose, the fact remains that he was killed when he was kicked in the groin by a camel.
See, Elvis' camel toe.........
Grauman's Chinese decked out for the Domino premiere.
To kill time we stopped in at Hooters and Brian was promptly carded by Shelley.
I was ripped off by Hooters' weak ice cream selection.
Brian was unimpressed by his order of cheese sticks.
When all was said and done, only Mike left Hooters with a smile.
OK, long story short. We waited in line for about two hours to see this crappy movie only to be told that the theatre was filled to capacity. Of course I demanded my money back but considering I downloaded my ticket off the the internet, I wasn't going to hold my breath.
Again, to make a long story short, Mike has taken up the hobby of throwing "wet floor" signs over the restroom stall doors and hitting whoever is inside. His victims include my cousin Bryan at BNAT 13, Brian Day at the Laemmle 7 in Pasadena and, now, me. Yes, he nailed me right in the face (leading my glasses to gouge the right side of my nose) as I was leaning back to see if he was doing precisely what he did. And yes, it drew blood. This picture does not begin to show the damage.
A deeply contrite Mike.
A deeply amused (or epileptic) Brian.
After a disappointing movie experience we headed back to the SGV. Doh, Hollywood traffic.
We ended up at Twoeys for some real ice cream.
Mike and his waffle caramel apple suicide (which he couldn't finish).
Brian and his serious banana split (which he also couldn't finish).
My banana split (which I finished in addition to finishing Brian's).
The next morning I left Bill Crockwell and James Espinoza a couple of calling cards.