Race for an Osama bin Laden Movie

 Posted without comment...

The Hollywood Reporter

By the way, in case you were worried I missed the Royal Wedding...

The more time I spend with the rich, the more I fear them..

So as a precursor to this evening's preceedings, let me tell you, it went something like this:

HH:  No, really, I can't, and anyway, that guy creeps me out.

Mad Ferrari:  No, sure, it'll be fine, I'm sure he's not a serial killer.

And so we ventured into the territory in which Jack Nicholson has two houses... God knows you don't need that face staring up at you off of a wall...

Genius as it may seem, two bottles of champagne and one miniskirt later we were in the depths of what was in fact engineering territory; much to my chagrin for an operating table and a blunt saw...  Full legnths of cable (oh my dear, but how easy to strangle you with) and still I remained unconvinced, but really, how could you ever expect to be taken down by a Miller Lite?  The mind boggles...

She just sat like a lobotomized duck in a cage...

That's it, I have at last found a blog to rival Dlisted in the hilarity stakes, and God it's good.

Let me preface this by informing you that this week was the first time I have had a car in LA.  And perhaps, this has not been the most beneficial to my fellow drivers.  Take exhibit A:

Yes, this occurred when I tried to parallel park between two ginormous (aka American standard) trucks up in West Hollywood.  Let's just say that: (a) it's a rare skill to be able to pretty much hang your car off of the rear bumper of another; and (b)  it's a long time since I have driven anything other than a bicycle, and there's probably a reason for that.  It's all boding so well for my California driving test next Tuesday; remind me to pick my short skirt up from the dry cleaners...

Anyway, back to my new discovery:  L.A. Can't Drive.  Seriously, crying with laughter as I peruse comments on dumb-ass manouvres executed all over town.  For example:

"In all fairness, this motherfracker hails from Alaska. However, with the way she was driving, she might as well hail from Venice Beach"

"However, whenever he wasn’t texting, he had the gall to morph into an impatient, zigzagging, tailgating, non-signaling jackass."  

"There were plenty of moments where she had clearance to cross the westbound lanes of Sunset, but she just sat like a lobotomized duck in a cage, while narrowly missing one collision after another with eastbound vehicles."

I fear I may be appearing on there soon...

Lights, Camera, Body Bag

"So I've been up in Hollywood all day and I still can't find a body bag...":  this was the Future Director's preoccupation earlier this week as I worked my way through a foot-long hot-dog.  "Really, you would think that in this town it would be easy.  I mean, I have the syringes and the drugs already."  

Now, before you start freaking out thinking that this has become a 'snuff blog', be reassured that this is in fact, all in the name of art.  Namely, the art of visual fiddling (Woody Allen, Francis Ford Coppola, Orson Welles:  fiddlers all).

Lest I digress (snuff and fiddling in the same sentence, that should cause some interesting traffic on Google), let me tell you that this was for a 60-SECOND movie.  Yet it took all day.  And apart from actively ravishing some chicken wings (we were in Compton, of course there was good chicken...) my job as set-bitch assistant to the Future Director involved the following:  cleaning the floor, flower arranging, being a plastic surgeon and a hair-stylist, wardrobe-monkey and er, my personal favourite, dog-sitting (really, the dogs in this town:  so tired).

Honestly, this thing spent more time attached to my boob than... let's just leave it at than.

Anyway, it is going to be one hell of a one-minute movie, you can be certain of that.  Of course, I'll let you judge for yourself:

Did you guess it was about the dangers of Hollywood?

Obama is the Marie Antoinette of the 21st century, allegedly

This morning, following my 6.30am Hot Yoga Barre class (no judgment, you wear a bikini all year here) as I drank my morning cup of coffee (what, no tea?), I forgave the BBC for CBS (sacrilege!) and tried to embrace America.

 And then it happened:  " As Obama prepares for his visit to Los Angeles today...".  "Oh shit" I thought, "that's really going to fuck up the traffic."

What have they done to my brain?!  I have been here barely a month and already my number one concern when the President of the United States comes to town is the TRAFFIC?!  This can't be normal; so I checked in with the Hopa.  "Coincidentally, that is exactly what I thought when I read the news re: Obama.  Welcome to your new order of priorities."

Apparently, we are not the only ones:  "Obama is the Marie Antoinette of the 21st century." and other comments...

The philosophy of less, is more

I'm a pretty black and white kinda gal, so really doing things in halves is not an option.  Which is why I feel obliged to stick my neck out and just tell America:  no.  Is it too much to ask that for once you think (really, that's a request in itself...), and then go full fat?  Why is it necessary to ruin the pleasure of eating in order to eat more?  There's just no logic to it.

Take for example this:

Why would you eat a sugar-free cupcake?  Why would you not just eat the full sugar version, but in smaller quantities?

Now consider this:

Part of a VEGETARIAN diet?!  Are the meanings of their words different as well as their pronunciation?

And lastly, this: 

ORGANIC?!  It's supposed to be made out of shit.  That's the whole point of a hot-dog!!!

Feast your eyes on how it really should be done.

No, I couldn't eat a whole one either...