Merry Christmas Los Angeles

There's an urban legend that says there is no traffic in Los Angeles over the holidays. Word has it, all the transplants from other cities skip town to spend the season with their families. If it's true that freeways are wide open during rush hour, it sounds both end-of-the-world creepy, and beautiful.

Enjoy that wonderful gift, and have a merry Christmas.


Is it Still Cool to be a Scientologist?

Just asking, because my safety level is in direct proportion to how powerful the "church" is, when it comes to trash talkin'. All sorts of people turn up dead for speaking up, according to Xenu.net. I don't want to die, but man are they stupid.

I must report something that happened a few years ago, which made my suspicions about Scientology crescendo into mild paranoia. I was standing beside a building a few years ago, when a plane smashed into it. Simple as that. I lived off Melrose right by Fairfax High School. The pilot flying overhead had been experiencing technical difficulties and tried to land in the high school's football field. He missed and flew into an apartment building, killing five people.

Neighbors and students from Fairfax High School fled to the scene, as people jumped from second story windows and flew through the lobby doors screaming. Jet fuel ignited a white-hot fire in the building, and black smoke choked the air. Just as firetrucks began to arrive, so did a van. Skidding to a stop next to the high school, the van door slid open and out hopped an organized row of Scientologists, all in matching yellow t-shirts. They descended upon the crowd, offering support, water bottles, whatever.

My roommate at the time slowly turned to me. We stared wide-eyed at one another, wondering the exact same thing. How did the Scientologists manage to organize and arrive so quickly? They got there almost as fast as the fire trucks did. As confused people roamed the streets wondering if their cat was going to burn in the furnace that was once their apartment building, the Scientologists stroked backs, gave knowing nods and held little counseling sessions on the curb.

I'm not saying that the Scientologists orchestrated the crash so they could take advantage of vulnerable people and brainwash new recruits. I'm just saying the van with the yellow t-shirted crew arrived reeeeeeeally quickly.

Note to Scientologists: I've got two big dogs and nosy neighbors. I'd like to see you try.


The Best Little Art Gallery in L.A.

I know, I know, Rembrandt and Toulouse Lautrec are brilliant, blah blah blah. Now that that's out of the way, I love the Crazy 4 Cult gallery...more than a friend. Celebrating pop culture, you will fall in love with romanticized adaptations of Edward Scissorhands, and fall on the floor laughing when you see renderings of the sickest families in film history.

If you can't make it to their Melrose space, check out Crazy 4 Cult right HERE.

In order from the top, the family portraits are from The Shining, The Jerk, There Will Be Blood, and...The Lost Boys!

"Death by Stereo!!"


Who DIDN'T want to do the lift?

Every girl has dreamt of doing it. Even a few men. Before my wedding, I toyed with the idea of reenacting Dirty Dancing's Nobody puts baby in a corner dance sequence. But 90% of my wedding party was on the East Coast. Oh who am I kidding? I wasn't tiny enough and the groom wasn't strong enough. Plus my billowing Oleg Cassini would swallow him up, making it look as if he were attacked by a giant dollop of whipped cream.

Here in Hollywood, people love film. Whether they dish out $2.00 for a second-run showing in Pasadena, or $56.00 at the Arclight on opening weekend - it's the reason so many of us are here. We all have a fantasy movie we'd love to cast ourselves in. And let no man protest. I've seen that Star Wars light saber scene with accompanying sound effects more often than I'd appreciate.

Meatheads fantasise about being a foul-mouthed criminal in Reservoir Dogs, and before that they dreamed of riding their bikes into the sky with E.T. Young girls pretended to walk the yellow brick road, and when older played out the closing scene in Casablanca. Then there is, of course, the lift.

Most of us however, will never grace the silver screen. Luckily, all of our embarrassing and ego-driven Hollywood fantasies can come true with YooStar. We can literally, er, digitally insert ourselves into some of the most memorable film scenes in history. For all you struggling here in the City of Angels, if you're frustrated by a day of auditions for antacids and sundries of the feminine hygiene persuasion, it's a way to force yourself into Hollywood - if only electronically. Drunk idiots everywhere will convince themselves that reenacting a scene in Fight Club is really cool, and you'll have a front row seat. Perhaps you can write this program off on your taxes, because this tool could sharpen your chops. Hell, it may feel better than the real thing - no more auditioning and hello ice cream. I'm just sayin'.