Hollywood

25 June.

The commute to hollywood was as enjoyable as watching the sex in the city movie. A broken foot, a 32kg pack a surfboard bag full of crap and no sense of direction. The bus crashed on the way, sending people past us down the aisle. The bus driver just cheesed it from the accident. The first conversation we had in hollywood was being asked if we were in a band. The obvious response was of course we are.

Leather clad, liquored up and searching for the dream brought no shortage of crazy mysteries. Hollywood was every stereotype you could think of. But it was the shit. After another vintage meal at jack in the box we hit beer pong with the locals in some pub on the hollywood strip. The alcohol fueled confidence pointed us straight to the nearest red carpet premiere. Needless to say that they were not ready for some Australian larking. The dude was a lad however and we had a chat while paparazzi took to my count about 300 photos. The guy was on crutches so we struck off pretty well as i had a moon boot on and he had a moon knee brace on. It was our ignorance which really set the scene, with the parting words " good luck with your career whoever you are".

The buzz on the streets is very hollywood-esque The whole scene is built on dodgy street performers, fake boobs and celebrities. A tour bus ride was due in order to get closer to the American dream. Snapping shots at all the standard crap people thrive off, such as Halle Berrys house etc etc was boring. What wasn't boring is Micheal Jackson dying in his house when you happen to be driving past. Quicker than Pete Doherty relapses on heroin the area was shut down and choppers were going skitz overhead. Police were taping anything that could be taped, our bus was lucky to get out of there untaped. Apart from that a few landmark skatespots were glimpsed, also the whisky a gogo.

Nightlife thrives here. If you happen to be a famous Australian band like us you will get in anywhere. We headed for Le Duex. Personally i think it should be called Le Douche. Im all for selling out but that place is a ballsack. No wonder that show 'the hills' sucks so much. After too much bad noise and explosive egos a more exclusive club was in order; Delux. After waiting in line behind 8 girls for about 1o minutes our press girl got us through. The looks on their faces was a definite 'omg those guys must be so famous'. In reality Delux had just let the trashiest, poorest beatniks in LA into one of the most ridiculously posh clubs ever. The key to getting in is extravagant tomfoolery. The best booth in the club literally reserved for people like paris hilton and the crappy hills chiks was dominated by the most trashy attired minions in the club. Irony is a banging thing. After dancing on our table, smashing drinks and making connections we took a definitive step closer to the dream.

The following day or two was a delusional haze. The borderline of reality became questionable with jet lag, sleep deprivation, crappy food, late nights and a lack of time causing mini freak outs. Combined with pollution and constant heckling it was hard to be a functioning citizen. The confusion nearly landed Nafe with a stab wound in the Saddle Ranch one night (that pub of borat with the mechanical bull) from a black guy who was looking for a beef. A particularly angry fellow he was if i remember correctly. Nafes face nearly went as white as his body when the black guy fronted up, i don't blame him either. LA resolves its fights with knives or guns, which we possessed neither of. A brief appearance was also made in an album launch which turned out to be a black gangster club. Never as the skin on my body felt so white; ever. About five minutes was spent in that place.

Back on the road.
















Having a chat to the criminal minds guy about life n shit.























MJ's star post death




































Hollywood highschool handrail.














































Start of MJ's street when he died
















MJ's street






















A very casual arrest in front of micky d's