I hate Halloween. It’s totally commercial now. It’s like the middle of April and you’re already seeing ads for Halloween. I’m sick of it.
Recommended Show of the Week: Roots @ House of Blues. It’s a shame more hip hop acts don’t play their own instruments live. Watching two turntables and a microphone live is just slightly more interesting than catching the same songs being sung on karaoke night at Brass Monkey. The Roots play two shows with real instruments Monday night at the House of Blues.
What should the most important task be for at least six LAPD black-and-whites, some dozen-odd officers, a fully-equipped LAPD Mobile Booking Office and at least one intimidating helicoptor with crowd-dispersing spotlights? Shut down the hot dog ladies.
The Dog of Hollywood. Western and Hollywood, to be precise. You’ve seen it. We’ve all seen it. It is largely unclear when this famous shack served its last hot dog, but one thing is sure: the glorious hot dog on the roof with the assortment of filthy cubes that are supposed to be onions is here to stay.
It mattered not that Ships had closed in 1995; hell, I’d never even eaten there. The place closed way before my time. It mattered only to me that the sign’s legacy lived on. In its way, that sign-without-a-restaurant reassured me that all was normal in my world.
