Hijack The Playlist, Punkin

So the other night I went to the best Halloween party I've ever been to. What made it so great is that the host showed a deep commitment to the booze and the guests showed an even deeper commitment to the costuming. There were about 150 people at this guy's house, and maybe 3 weren't dressed up.

Some highlights:
- A renegade BLT (with a machine gun).
- A woman in blue with blue Christmas balls hanging off her (Blue Balls).
- A couple dressed as a cat and scratching post (Andrew and Rachel).
- A gaggle of flight attendants with roll-aboards and 80's hair.
- A chick with a footprint on her chest and a halo of different sized balls (Carbon Footprint).
- A guy dressed as a rigged voting booth handing out unfair laws to vote on (AKA a dirty proposition).
- The requisite ape (who wrestled on the dance floor with a spotted cow).
- And the best of all: An 8-1/2 month pregnant woman dressed as Britney Spears. Now that's commitment.

The only thing wrong was that the music wasn't good. As the evening wore on, the booze looked like it might be getting low, nobody was dancing, and the party definitely needed to be taken up a notch. So me and K-Fed snuck into the bedroom where the computer was, highjacked the playlist, and totally created our own. Then we rolled back out to watch the magic happen. And soon it did: The dance floor was packed, Elvis was rockinit with Benazir Bhutto, the cow was doing the Running Man while swiggin' Freixenet from the bottle, the Jolly Green Giant was dirty dancing with an ear of corn, and the BLT was workin' it out with me (1950's housewife overdosed on Valium). And when that was done, Van Gogh (complete with bloody ear) busted out to his car to grab an iPod, showing total commitment to the dance.

Best damn Halloween party I've ever been to. I don't know what time I got home, but it would have been a lot earlier if we hadn't highjacked the playlist. Sometimes you just got to.

And PS - The picture is of the Halloween box my ma sent to me. Even though I'm old, my parents still call me punkin and send me candy. Rockit.

Man In Halloween Costume Mistaken For Corpse

Jury Duty In A Foreign City

I had to report to the courthouse in downtown LA for jury duty today, and it was like being a tourist in a foreign city. I never go to that part of town during the day, so I decided to look at it as an adventure rather than a dreary civic duty.

The old courthouse itself was kind of comforting, with wooden doors and that institutional linoleum that reminds me of elementary school. But after sitting around for four hours without being called, I was more than ready for our 1-1/2 hour lunch. So I went urban spelunking.

First, I had my lunch in the DWP cafeteria, because it's widely known among city and county employees as having the best food of all the municipal buildings, and when am I ever gonna eat Department of Water and Power food again? Then I walked through the Disney Concert Hall, which blinded me from the outside cause I had forgotten my sunglasses. Unfortunately the MOCA was closed, which is too bad cause you can get in fo' free with a juror's badge. Then I went to the Fountain Plaza for a coffee and watched all the people in suits and Banana Republic separates going to work in office buildings. Haven't seen that in a while...

Then it was back to the courtroom, which was rapidly losing its charm. Luckily, I didn't get called. So that leaves me free to enjoy my one day as a foreign tourist in downtown LA.

City's Best Clam Chowder?

Nicole & Page Trump Even The Sox!

So you'd think today's Dirt Alert would be completely full of my boys' sweeep victory over the Rockies in the World Series. Well, it would have been, if Nicole and Page hadn't had their wedding reception this Saturday.

These guys are smart: They wisely snuck off and got married in San Miguel (on my birthday, no less), and then came back here and had a party with all their friends. It was gorgeously small, it was at their friend Julie's beautiful house (one of the best venues I've ever seen for a reception), they projected flip-book-like photos of their wedding on the side of the house, and they served mac and cheese. What's not to love? Nothing.

Nic and Page, I love you even more than the Sox. Congratulations!

And To These Guys, Too

The Other Night I Hung Out With Midget Porn Stars

So Tula invited me to this art opening the other night at the Stephen Cohen Gallery, my fave art space in LA. Seems our friend Gennan had worked on this photography book, “Naked Ambition: An R-Rated Look at an X-Rated Industry”, and there was gonna be a little party.

So I called my friend Tue (who lives right next to Tula in my cell phone) and asked him to come with. He and I might not ever get around to hanging out on any other occasion, but we have been known to attend openings and drink free wine at this very gallery a few times in the past. So we suited up and went on down.

It was a great night: Tula and her posse were all there, celebrating Gennan (and Tula's birthday!), the hors d'oeuvres were not chintzy, the photographs were excellent, and many of the subjects were in attendance: Seven-foot-tall chicks in latex skirts and corsets (no, not me), midget sex workers in wheelchairs, and lots of heavily tattoo'd dudes skulking around the periphery, snapping pictures. Then Tue and I went to the bar next door and caught up over a couple of long-overdue cocktails.

Friends, free drinks and midget porn stars. An excellent night, Dirt Alert-style.


Michael Grecco - Naked Ambition

Nice Is Free

Yesterday I was walking back to my truck, which was parked on the street at Western and Hollywood, not the greatest neighborhood. As I approached it, I looked for my keys in my bag, and quickly realized that I couldn't find 'em. Then I saw a middle-aged guy lounging against the vehicle parked behind me. He saw me go for the truck and said, "Hey, you left your keys on the roof. I grabbed them and was just gonna wait here 'til you got back, so no one would steal your truck."

Nice is free.

People Are Nice Sometimes

Alright Already!

Alright alright alright, I get it. You love me. You want me. You need me. You can't get enough of me. And frankly, I don't blame you.

From the moment I stopped reporting on my comings and goings as a woman of little means but lots of consequence in magical LA, the hue and cry from both sides of the international date line reached levels of cacaphony. Frankly, some of you are just stalkers, but the rest of you are bona fide cheapasses like myself, and such a worthy sentiment requires a response. And to tell the truth, I miss sharing. So there. Kisses. Mwah.

Now, get your asses downtown to the LA Public Library's ALOUD Lecture Series. It only costs $1. For parking. If you have a library card. Which you should. Cause guess who I heard last night? OLIVER SACKS. That's right, the neurologist who wrote the book 'Awakenings' and is one of the foremost explorers of the human mind. He talked all about his patients and the freaky stuff our brain can dish out, and was charming and funny and nerdy and bright. Art and science, people - Coco's favorite things together. And it was in the beautiful downtown library, which is one of the great unsung buildings in LA. It was a completely non-Hollywood experience - a bunch of lefty intellectual nerds - what a frickin' joy and relief. And it was a dollar.

Then we went to dinner at CIUDAD, because we had a coupon. (20 dollas off, yo.) And the food and the view was great. And we were downtown. Which is fun.

Library card - fo' free.
Lectures by badasses - $1.
Ciudad - coupon, fo' cheeep.

Word.

Welcome back, kittens.

ALOUD Lecture Series for Smart People