WeHo Halloween 2006 Recap: The eve of one week after All Hallows Eve
I’m a bit late with this… But I promise it will be Depp-tacular!
I had struggled over what the title of this would be. Should it be:
- The Million Depp March
- A Dab of Depp’ll Do Ya
- Will the real Jack Sparrow please stand up, please stand up?
- Knee Deep in Depp
- Depp Perception
- Mos Depp
- Pirates of the Caribbean part 1000-Jack Sparrow gets Cloned
- Pirates of WeHo
- Depp Comedy Jam
- Bacon Wrapped Depp
- Brother Can you Sparrow an Original Costume Idea?
All wholeheartedly fitting titles, but I’ll stick to the, I’m late, title. Here we go.
We started the evening by meeting up with friends at their hotel in between Sunset and Santa Monica. The very same hotel I stayed at last year with them where I was greeted the “pleasurable” site of 4 men orally gratifying another in a rooftop jacuzzi. There are some things in Rome one needn’t do “when in.” We had quite a few cocktails while waiting for them to prep their costumes. Safe to say I consumed enough libations to get me in the mind set for quality costume viewing.
We walked down to the Boulevard and began the viewing. There were quite a few creative costumes like the quality Tron costume (photo) that looked entirely and professionally created. However Jeff Bridges, it was not. After seeing a plethora of the standard drag queens and Wong Foo’s, I saw my first Jack Sparrow which I had predicted “MAY” be popular. Well as we meandered down, we saw count em, NOT ONE, but TWO Bob Ross costumes. There’s something to be said about that. I don’t what that is, but there’s got to be something.
We kept going and I decided, since I was at a convention for Johnny Depp costumes I would need to start documenting every single one of them. I remember a couple years ago it was all about the Once Upon a Time in Mexico. Well this was, yes, here comes another one…Once Upon a Time in the Caribbean. There were no Edward Scissorhands, no Sleepy Hollow, no Finding Sparrowland, nothing! Just Jack fucking Sparrow. Lots of them. It was amazing how at the beginning, when I’d shout JACK! JACK SPARROW! They’d turn around and POSE. POSE PEOPLE!!! After a while they stopped doing it as their own chagrin at their “original” costume idea was realized.
There were assorted good costumes with creativity but far from the crazy ones like the guy that made himself a Kafka-esque praying mantis with real working joints (seriously his knees were inverted and so were his elbows) so that, when he extended his arms the forearms would have some funky extensions. Guess you had to be there. Safe to say there were more than a few good costumes and more than a few lame ones.
As the Jack Sparrows stopped posing, I stopped taking their photos. I think they were getting the hint when I would yell for them, they’d turn around, I’d snap a picture and politely say, “Thanks #273…274…275” etc, etc.
The thing I was happy to see was the bacon wrapped cart (photo) pretty early on. In fact, I think I saw about 4 of them on my first pass down and another passed us as my highly significant other and I stole away on a side street to steal some of each others’ spit. I let her know that I would be eating the meaty goodness no matter what my cholesterol reading was that particular day, but the time had not arrived yet. We were determined to make it back up the Boulevard to see what else had come out to play.
I then saw what I deemed as the best costume of the night. It was Rene Magritte’s Son of Man. Very high brow, very acceptable on my art snob standards.
On my way back down, I spotted the ABSOLUTE BEST costume of the night. I yelled for it to turn around so I could take a picture, but it did not. I ran up and POW! it was a cardboard trash receptacle! (photo) Did Johnny Depp star as a trash can? One could argue 21 Jumpstreet, but I wouldn’t want to anger the Canucks that still take pride in that series.
Apart from that it was getting crowded and the Andy Gumps were disgusting, super disgusting (but still giving me a good idea for a costume next year). The crowds were getting out of hand. It took us about 15 minutes to get a block once we decided to make it down and go halfway back for the food. It was seriously insane. My feet hurt, my ’mach was empty, and I was really sick of people. We were stuck. I desperately looked for A) a place to sit for a second, and B) Bacon Wrapped’s. No luck on either. It tooks me almost 15 minutes to get to the front of the line of a shitty little tamale stand to get us a couple plain ($4) quesadillas. They didn’t do it, but they were enough to get us back up to the hotel so we could skedaddle before traffic was as nightmarish as getting there.
I was a bit pissed I didn’t get a bacon wrapped, but not as pissed as I was when I started seeing female Jack Sparrows walking down the hill to join the convention. Fortunately, this year I was not groped, but I did fail to bring my riding crop down. It is always a huge hit…or smack…whatever. The gays and straights love it alike.