What's better than watching Biff Griff get arrested outside the clock tower while chilling on your hoverboard? Nothing, actually. But sneaking into a parking lot at the Universal Studios back lot to play inside the original Back to the Future DeLorean time machine is pretty damn close. Check out these photos from one recent late-night adventure...
South Bay style was on display last night when Wilmington's own media and arts collective, Slanguage, took curatorial control of MOCA's Thursday night Engagement Party series with its Psychicinema Multiplex. Founded in 2002 by Karla Diaz and Mario Ybarra Jr., and based in the harbor area of L.A. specifically to cultivate relationships between diverse audiences there, Slanguage has unleashed its experimental, street art approach on venues like the Tate Modern Museum and Serpentine Gallery in London, to LACMA, to Boston public schools -- and now MOCA, where Slanguage's visual assault included screenings and projections throughout the courtyard and galleries, with psychic dancers, DJs, palm readers and a prom-style portrait studio with Wilmington's hellish refineries as the backdrop.
Signature Goth dance moves include: "Kick the Smurf," "Washing the Windows," "Changing the Lightbulb," "Sweeping the Floor," "Wiping the Cobwebs," and "Stuck in My Coffin." I went to the Vampire Convention last week and was at a loss for how to dance. If you ever find yourself in a roomful of Goths and need to bust a move, try these steps.
This video (from "Peanutgirly" in Germany) is also nicely illustrative. There is some debate as to whether her moves are truly Goth, or some type of unsanctioned hybrid.
These are things you should know when going to Vampire Con, or the convention dedicated to vampires. It happened this weekend at the Music Box Theatre along with Vampirella's Ball. It was the first event of its kind.
1. Wear black.
Duh. For women, this means long black gowns and gloves. For men, this means black top hats, Edwardian or Victorian suits, or anything you would see in a Mad Max movie.
2. Don't ask the bartender for blood.
I did. She offered me merlot instead. Then she offered me her neck.
From old downtown theatres to dives to dance clubs, LA continues to be a bonanza of burlesque. Big or small, demure or trashy, themed and prop-filled or bodaciously bare, seems like there's always a gaggle strutting -and stripping off- their stuff somewhere in town, and has been ever since The Velvet Hammer troupe emerged in the early '90's
Though Hammer is no more (Lucha Va Voom splintered from the group with much success, though) another gal who came up around the same time remains one of, if not the, queen of the scene: Ms. Dita Von Teese. When it comes to illustriousness (and we're not even counting the notoriety of once being married to a certain shock rocker), retro appeal and most notably, blindingly gorgeous production value, Teese, who was born and raised in Michigan and started her performing career while living in and then emerging from Orange County, always delivers.
On the eve of her first major production in Los Angeles in over two years, the performer speaks with Style Council about why she hasn't performed in LA for a while, how she put together her new one, her new signature cocktail for Cointreau, and other projects she's got up her bedazzled sleeve.
Since the total solar eclipse does not have a publicist, I wanted to remind you that it is happening today. (That would be Wednesday if you're in China, which, due to the time difference is effectively Tuesday night in the US. I know. It's confusing.) At over six and a half minutes, it will be the longest solar eclipse of the 21st century. View it here at NASA's site. Click through to China's National Astronomical Observatory. China will be live webcasting the eclipse as it happens over Shanghai tonight at 9:35pm Eastern Daylight Time, or 6:35 pm Pacific Daylight Time.
For us here in Los Angeles, the Griffith Observatory will also be broadcasting the eclipse on live webcast on a big screen at one of their exhibit halls. Go there for the serious interplanetary geek action. The webcast timeline is:
5:24 pm PDT -- First Contact
(When the moon first begins to obscure the sun)
6:37 to 6:43 pm PDT -- Totality
(When the moon completely covers the sun. "Totality"--isn't that an awesome word? Astronomers have the best lingo. Seriously.)
Gary Busey joins the cast of Point Break Live! on stage
Actor Gary Busey made a special appearance at the Dragonfly on Friday night for the May 22 performance of Point Break Live!, the wildly popular punk-rock stage adaptation of the 1991 action flick Point Break that starred Busey as seasoned FBI agent and general badass, Angelo Pappas, opposite Keanu Reeves' Johnny Utah.
During the performance Busey clearly enjoyed himself, cheering and heckling from the front row, wearing his "survival kit" rain poncho, and even picking up a cap gun and Super Soaker to join the cast members for the show's final shoot-out. I joined the cast backstage after the show for what was an epic night in Point Break Live! history.
Lily Burana and Diablo Cody arrive for Benefit Operation Bombshell
Friday night at the razzle-tiki-dazzle new Trader Vic's at L.A. Live, Academy Award winner Diablo Cody and fellow seductress scribe Lily Burana presented an evening of burlesque. For those that have fantasized about Juno screenwriter babe Cody in the buck ever since seeing her in that leopard number at the Oscars, keep dreaming. Cody did not shimmy up and down the tiki bar but she did introduce a number of scantily clad beauties. The event was in support of former stripper Burana's latest book, I Love A Man in Uniform, and to benefit Operation Bombshell a burlesque school for military wives founded by the brazen Burana.
Cody appeared even more stunning in person than on the red carpet. Her hair cropped in a short pixie, blue eyes glowing and tats looking freshly inked on toned arms. She had a tall Mai Tai in hand and was surrounded by men that looked nineteen--my kind of girl. The room was spilling over with Angelenos that looked like they were ready to bust a swing move, pose for a pin-up calendar, sneak into a speak easy--or do all three.
Forget what you think you know about bingo -- vixens Audrey Deluxe and Lucy Fur have brought the game out of the retirement home, glammed it up and transformed it into a late-night lingerie stage show. This month's Burlesque Bingo took place March 18 at the Key Club and was not to be missed. Check out Aimee Candelaria's gorgeous photos from the event in the "They Take it Off, You Win" slideshow and watch her video clip above for more.
Before the Devil's Playground "Wonderland Burlesque and Cabaret Show" took center stage on Saturday, the near-capacity audience at Bordello was already getting randy. In one dimly-lit booth a blonde woman cozied up to her date's ear, nearly sucking his lobes right off. Nearby the affectionate couple, a Cleopatra-like beauty gyrated her hips to the loud club hits with no concern that she was the lone dancer in the bar.
The band the Red Light District opened for the pheromone-rising "Wonderland" with lead singer Juliette Angeli dedicating her first song "to all the dangerous women out there." The whimsical Red Light District proved to be acceptable make-out music and with songs like "Lizard Girl" and "Handcuff King Death Defying Acts," the band set up a carnival-esque mood for the evening.
It's been a wonderfully wiggy/winky week in LA, but last night's bash at World of Wonder gallery for Rupaul's new TV reality competition Drag Race, definitely took the (pan)cake.
Above, babes in line for RuPaul's Drag Race bash. Dresscode: color, sparkle and fake hair with flair.
Hundreds of Diggnation fans, Diggers and general tech industry geeks barraged the Knitting Factory last night for the Digg.com Meetup L.A. -- the crowd on Hollywood Boulevard started lining up at 8 a.m. with attendees setting up folding chairs, the general vibe reminiscent of a Star Wars or LOR premiere. A meetup of Diggers in Digg.com's second largest market coupled with a live taping of the Revision3 show Diggnation, the scene could have been mistaken for a tailgate party if not for the solid iPhone-to-person ratio of 1:1.
Digg founder Kevin Rose and Revision3 producer Alex Albrecht know how to throw a party, having already held meetups in San Francisco, Chicago, London, Austin, and New York City. With over 700 people in attendance, the critical mass factor of Digg fans is a formidable force. As Albrecht, co-host of Diggnation and Los Angeles native concisely put it, "For people who don't do music stuff, that's a pretty packed music hall."
Diggnation, a Man Show for inter-web fans, is basically Kevin and Alex sitting on a couch chugging beer and talking about random stories on Digg. And it has a MAJOR cult following -- hundreds of fan boys (and a few fan girls) whooped ecstatically at almost anything the two hosts said. To offset the testofest, Candice Michelle (the "Go Daddy" girl) provided eye candy and a much-needed female presence. Fervent and passionate, fans came all the way from Sydney, Austrailia to watch the wacky antics and crazy chemistry go down live. And they were not disappointed -- in bizarre Hollywood fashion, actor Lavar Burton opened the show with a sing-a-long of the Reading Rainbow theme. Overheard in the crowd, "This is weirder than the party with the chocolate syrup and the midgets." Well-played L.A.
Last night we stepped underground to discover a guy in a Nazi uniform humping his half-dressed wifey from behind, as a well-dressed crowd watched at El Cid. Was this the right place? Yes indeed, this was the opening to Victory Variety Hour's "The Wrong Show" which took center stage Thursday evening in all of its dirty-mouthed, derelict-filled glory.
The naughtiness was curated by brash comic Gary Shapiro and delightful sexpot Penny Starr, Jr. who dished out off-color jokes, and one emcee even managed to tongue a performer.
The mash-up of comedians, singers and burlesque beauties proved to be the type of folks you'd want to bring home to mama -- that is, if you want to never talk to her again. The cast delivered a night that was equally raunchy, bawdy and fun.
New Years Eve may be long-gone, but the sparkle that typifies the frocks most ladies wore on the big night is still around, shining, shimmering, and even blinding us in some cases. We like it too. Sequins, beads and metallics evoke fun, cheer and excitement, and who doesn't need that at the start of new year- or all year round for that matter?
Still, looking like a disco ball ain't for everyone, and this week WORN OUT offers a quartet of sexy, sequined LBDs (little black dresses), shot on NYE and the week after, to get inspired by. The frocks go from vintage-style to hoochie-ish, but the way each gal made them her own proves black shine always looks fine. Check 'em out!
2008 was pretty fierce fashion-wise. That's the conclusion we came up with after perusing through the hundreds of photos we snapped while crawling about the club scene for Nightranger. Of course, amid the hot to trot, there were definitely some nots, and this week, Worn Out takes a look at the unfortunate, the inappropriate and the just plain lame trends and failed attempts at style we saw out there. Let's put these out to pasture (along with the word "fierce" used for posterity at the start of this post) shall we?
To a recent NYC transplant, the prospect of ice-skating in Los Angeles begs skepticism -- there's something unorthodox about being able to skate in shorts and a T-shirt. My last skating experience took place at Rockefeller Center, where my date and I waited for two hours in order to skate for a total of 15 minutes. By the end of the first hour my nose was running like bad pantyhose and my enthusiasm had worn just as thin. There's only so many LED Christmas trees and looky-loo tourists a girl can stand. Plus it was so cold you had to wear TWO pairs of gloves!
Not so at L.A.'s Downtown on Ice; While Pershing Square is admittedly smaller than Rockefeller Center, there is no line and skating sessions are a generous hour-long. Plus the price, which hasn't changed in 11 years, is recessionista-friendly at $6 for tickets and $2 for skates. And it really is warm enough to wear shorts. Eat your heart out Rockefeller Center.
Boxing fans crowded into Downtown's J Lounge on Friday December 26 to celebrate boxer Manny "PacMan" Pacquiao's win over Oscar De La Hoya at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas on December 6.
Filipino sports icon Pacquiao, who turned 30 on December 17, spent most of the event in an upstairs suite that only friends and boxing mafia were allowed to enter. He emerged later for a photo op in the J Lounge courtyard that had paparazzi and fans scrambling to get his picture. Also present were Pacquiao's longtime trainer Freddie Roach (who used to train De La Hoya), Pacquiao's very pregnant wife, Jinky Pacquiao, and Dean "Irish Lightning" Byrne, Pacquiao's sparring partner as he prepared for the De La Hoya match.
Have some time to kill over the holidays while avoiding chit-chat with your second cousin twice removed? Well, why not peruse L.A. Weekly's favorite photos of 2008. We've broken down this year's most unforgettable images into several categories: Year in Photos, Year in Food, Year in Music, Year in Nightranger and Year in Cobrasnake. Click the images below for each slideshow, enjoy and go easy on that eggnog.
Year in Photos
This year L.A. Weekly protested, partied, mingled with celebs, witnessed breaking news, moved offices across town and explored the underbelly of Los Angeles. View the full slideshow here.
Young and Restless: Year in Cobrasnake
This year Mark "Cobrasnake" Hunter traveled around the world photographing the young and the restless. Another city, another party, another unforgettable image. View the full slideshow here.
Went Christmas shopping at the Glendale Galleria yesterday and amid the stroller-rolling chaos, pilfered product displays, endless lines and sale frenzies and fights, we were surprised to see so many holiday get-ups out there. However cheesy it sounds, seeing so many shoppers in the spirit actually kept us from feeling Scrooge-y. After all, what's jollier than snowmen, holly berries, reindeer and that fat dude with the beard? We didn't take our camera to the mall (unfortunately) but you can ogle the scratchy monstrosities seen at this past weekend's Xmas Sweater party at the Echo in this yulestide slideshow.
It's official; last night I saw my last burlesque show. Why the last? Well, because after enjoying a front row seat for a Muppets-themed striptease, nothing else compares. I'm talking an hour and a half of feisty, Botticelli-bodied women gussied up in glittered, Gonzo the Great glory. Produced by Lili VonSchtupp and Scarlett Letter, the weekly Monday Night Tease! at 3 of Clubs off Santa Monica and Vine is Los Angeles' longest running burlesque show and last night I saw why. The Muppet (of Burlesque) Show was everything good burlesque should be: an exaggerated and, at times, subtle and flirty seduction paired with a healthy dose of parody, flipping Jim Henson's classic Muppet Show head over heels over sequined, Fozzie Bear pasties.
The program began promptly at 10 p.m., introduced by none other than Kermit the Frog. First up was Kimberlee Rose, the "Muppet of Burlesque" herself (and also the birthday girl), followed by a chorus line introduction to all the dancers in character: Scooter (Lili VonSchtupp), Fozzie Bear (Vixen Violette), Sam the Eagle (Scarlett Letter), Swedish Chef (Anastasia Von Teaserhausen), Miss Piggy (Isabella Star), Rizzo the Rat (Lux La Croix), Gonzo the Great (Dizzy Von Damn!), plus Jewel of Denial, Red Snapper and Vixen Magdalene. Then, under a giant disco ball, the ladies took the stage one by one to perform solo sets as their Muppet alter-ego.
We've known and admired Joseph Brooks from afar and later as a friend for over 20 years now. From his stints spinning at our first and maybe all-time fave rock club, Scream in downtown LA circa 1986 to his seminal record shop Vinyl Fetish (subsequently sold to Scream creators Michael Stewart and Bruce Perdew) to his later parties (Club Makeup and Bang!), JB's stamp on LA nightlife is unmatched.
Last week, we joined him and his pals at former Women's Wear Daily editress Rose Apodaca's groovy shop A+R (the Venice location) for a display of his latest endeavor, his new jewelry line, with a trunk show and soiree. After reading Apodaca's bio on Brooks, we were reminded of just how much this impresario has done over the years, and though he's pretty much given up that part of his life to focus on his designs, it bares noting that his import show with Dusty Street on KROQ back in day broke pretty much every UK band you can think of in LA, and often the US itself, and that he helped get Guns n' Roses signed during his tenure as DJ at the infamous hair metal haunt The Cathouse, and Makeup (along with Club Cherry where he also deejayed) single-handedly brought glam rock back to Hollywood in the mid-90s. His last "new" club concept was the all-ages free music night at the Key Club called Ruby Tuesday, which has now been taken over by Spin magazine.
Though he's not technically working in music like he used to, his exotic pieces (inspired by his global travels) are all the rage with the likes of Madonna and The Jonas Brothers. Check out this rockin' shot of a fella sporting it all, ala classic crotch/torso rock album covers like Sticky Fingers and Too Fast For Love. The model is actually an equally accomplished LA scene-maker. Can you guess who he is? See this week's slideshow and find out.
Also read about Gidget Gein's memorial, John Roecker's gay porn doc and Pleasant Gehman's "Underbelly" in this week's Nightranger.
Tuesday night the El Rey Theatre took a step back in time to host "A Night on the Town with Mad Men," a '60s-era variety act performed by the cast of the hit TV series.
"Mad Men" costume designer Janie Bryant lent her talents to outfitting the performers, and the red carpet was awash with glittery frocks and swanky suits.
Maggie Siff and Bryan Batt.
Melinda McGraw.
I love a good lounge act, but in truth it was the secretaries I was there to see. By day I am a secretary, and as far as I'm concerned the temperamental typists of "Mad Men" are the best reason to watch the show. And the show's lead secretary, Joan Holloway, is a real credit to the profession. With a stern glance and a swish of the hip, she manages to keep the high-spirited staff in check.
I wanted to belong, so I drove around looking for a crowd.
The Hollywood Bowl didn’t want me — I wasn’t rich, or organized, or popular enough to be a $149-a-seat party of four at July 4 fireworks with the Dodgers.
I drove around, like I said, listening to the boom of distant warfare and doing what I do every year I've lived in this country: downplaying the significance of American Independence Day to a Londoner in L.A.
In a previous millennium, my ex–father-in-law made a yearly joke about how my side lost. He had three chances to make that joke with me and it wasn’t funny the first time, but I loved his Brooklyn accent.
Bang, bang, bang, I heard, as I filled up at a Los Feliz gas station, while fireworks shot up behind the houses. Good night for a gangbanger to pop someone and slink away.
Now I Know What You’re Thinking, But by Seth Pierson
Observation: The term “slam” conjures two images: a multi-headed hydra of shitty improv “poetry” that sounds an awful lot like lame hip-hop, and a delicious Denny’s menu selection.
The Moth StorySLAM, first Tuesdays each month at the club Tangier, has qualities of the finest species of events in Los Feliz. It’s affordable ($6 cover) and fun, and it spins an idea that could be exclusive into a uniquely participatory event.
It sounds either twee or obstinately hipster: an open-mic vaguely competitive and intimate storytelling show at the dinner club Tangier (Los Feliz Blvd. and Hillhurst). Not to mention the show is the younger sibling of a curated and older Moth that is a six-year strong fixture in New York, with captivating podcasts and CDs of the best stories at www.themoth.org.
Chart-topping pretension potential.
But 7:30 pm came, and off went ten members from the audience, their self-submitted names drawn from a bag at random. The show demonstrated why “slamming” (ref. Observation) should be ignored in every iteration but storytelling and hangover breakfasts.
"Did that REALLY just happen?" Oh yes it did. Lucha Vavoom is in town. Last night anything and everything happened except for a donkey show, which I was expecting for the finale (It didn't happen). This was sensory overload to the tenth degree, as high-flying masked men beat each other up while super-sized chickens body-slammed massive Shamu whales. Yea, I'm serious.
The excitement level never dipped below maximum insanity all night, as classic rock cover songs in Spanish served as the soundtrack for the show. It was brilliant and set the mood perfectly for what ensued. Ringside ticket holders were left to fend for themselves as masked wrestlers were thrown into the crowd, knocking over precious and pricey drinks, while male strippers ran into the crowd looking for a hump. No one knew what to expect next. Hot striptease dances packed with full-figured wiggles and jiggles and midgets jumping off huge speaker towers onto lifeless opponents lying in the front row were just a small piece the action that took place inside the unassuming Mayan Theater. So much insanity. All the time. It was so much fun.
Between matches burlesque dancers performed some oddly sexy stripteases. One of them being the trapeze act by the Wau Wau Sisters. Starting off as your typical trailer-trash striptease, the sisters quickly turned it into a girl-on-girl trapeze extravaganza suspended high above the stage. It was everything you wished Olympic gymnastics could be.
While Vice magazine represents many things, most prominent is the value on stupid, constant debauchery.
Crystal Antlers do their thing
In terms of pointless excess, their unlimited beer-fueled event Monday evening, "Tales of Colt 45," met the requisite expectations, though the odor of marketing ploy was almost overpowering. The King King hosted the Moonrats and the Crystal Antlers for a night of music and malt liquor. The bands were mostly an annoyance, though the venue was pleasant, and the mime (yes, mime) could only be described as indefatigable.
Above and below: The mime. Really, the mime.
Clearly all strategic marketing maneuver, "Tales of Colt 45" was supposedly conceived by the malt liquor distributor in response to Vice's 2006 "stories" issue. The success of the first-ever stories issue apparently gave the beer retailer, emboldened by the recent ironic embrace of its close relative Pabst Blue Ribbon (same brewer), an immediate grassroots marketing hard-on. Because they selected the demographic with expert precision, and are, after all, offering lots of free beer, I can excuse the blatant gimmick. Apparently poverty, real or pretend, has gotten malt liquor distributors excited: they can shamelessly peddle their poison to white people now!
Global climate change put the brakes on that celebrated preamble to summer in Los Angeles - the inaugural screening at Hollywood Forever cemetery - on Saturday as only the most loyal moviegoers made it out for the lost Billy Wilder film Ace in the Hole. Generally, young Angelenos are rabid for the carefully selected classics screened in the classic setting, but temperatures in the 50’s and earlier rain deflated much of the usual enthusiasm.
The weekly L. A. event, now in it’s seventh year, kicked off on Memorial Day weekend, a fitting time for a cemetery-based occasion. But no one seemed cognizant of the holiday’s meaning, as couples huddled on technology-forward lawn chairs, swilling wine from glasses, - not plastic cups - lit candles and ate hummus in the Hollywood Forever ritual.
The night's film, Ace in the Hole, a seldom seen Billy Wilder movie, was shelved for decades because Paramount thought it too dark for release in 1951. In the movie, a young Kirk Douglas orchestrates perhaps the original media circus around a story he helped construct: a man buried by a cave-in at a New Mexico mineshaft. The film's dark tone was appreciated by the loyal contingent, who lapped up the comically stark moral dichotomies of 1950’s cinema with all the irony you’d expect of this demographic.
They're so sweet and innocent. Photos by Rena Kosnett.
Writing about the experience of seeing Tim & Eric’s Awesome Show Great Job! live on tour would be akin to dancing about architecture—some weird, fucked up architecture. It was the craziest thing I’ve ever seen.
One certainty is that the live show is a thousand times better than seeing Tim & Eric on TV, or watching videos on Youtube, because in addition to watching and hearing them, you can smell and taste Tim & Eric as well. Some highlights: an instructional video about properly poisoning your child clown slave, Papa John’s email upgrades, a prayer for Robin Williams, enlarged testicle bodysuits, a video with John C. Reilly eating paninis prepared with horse grease and then saying "Ooh, it smells like horse."
Another Day of the Ninja has come and gone, leaving us all a bit sad for its passing, as this holiday season can sometimes do.
Hundreds of budding young ninjas, cleverly disguised as 20-something nerds and geeks, converged on the El Rey Wednesday night for the first ever live performance of Ask A Ninja, a venerable day-job timekiller, dating all the way back to 2005.
Ask A Ninja co-creator Kent Nichols ran through the crowd letting dozens of folks pose their ninja questions rapid-fire, mimicing the internet episodes: "Why don't penguins fly?" It turns out they do, and soon the penguins will rise up against us. "What's the Ninja's favorite movie?" It's Casablanca. Who'd have guessed? "Why do Ninjas hate pirates again?" Because pirates are loud, have drinking problems, and it's a little pathetic the way they bury their treasure somewhere only to have ninjas find it and give it back to their owners.
Oh yeah - and lots of killing. While the questions went everywhere, the answers inevitably came back around to how the Ninja would kill his victims, and frequently the questioner. He plans to wipe out most people attending Coachella next year by the way. The Ninja was projected on a large screen on stage switching between several cameras filming him from different angles every couple of seconds. If it sounds like that would be annoying and headache-inducing, you're absolutely right. What works okay on a 3 inch box on your computer screen can get annoying very fast when it's 12 feet high.
The Ninja's biggest problem is that he just wasn't very funny. Patton Oswalt on the other hand, who went on before the Ninja, killed the audience in a way the Ninja can only dream about. In full-on computer geek mode, Oswalt dreamed about only communicating with the world through MySpace messages. YouTube, he said, allows us to act like demented Roman Emperors, demanding to see gay pandas and farting Republicans for our enjoyment.
Oswalt got the biggest applause of the night for announcing his desire to kill George Lucas with a shovel in 1992 before he could make the horrible Star Wars prequels, and he delivered crowd favorites on the KFC Famous Bowl, and their plans to introduce a massive chicken drumstick called the "Megaleg."
The show openers, Hard 'n Phirm reveled in their geekiness even more than Oswalt. The duo sang a song about pi, with a chorus that recites the number hundreds of digits out,
and a patriotic tribute to the American dinosaur, which, being American, couldn't have been green, but was red white and blue.
Through all of this, a crew from the cable network G4 roamed around the room pointing at people with a video camera topped with a blinding light. They were incredibly annoying and oblivious to the fact (or they just didn't care). So when they run the footage on G4, be sure to check out the annoyed shots of all of us shielding our eyes from their goons.
The Ninja can be funny though, when he has time to actually think out his answers. See below for his advice to the striking writers.
There was something that made me feel sexy about the unveiling of Brian Lichtenberg’s Spring and Summer Collection at the Museum of Architecture and Design. The being in a lingerie store kind of sexy: with a mix of the accomplished and the young shining in everything from classic blacks to outrageous feather head bands, funky let-loose glasses and over-sized fur hats, it was an arousing night. Things got even more sexed up when the designs took stage. The California fierce models had their snap-your fingers faces on and particularly worked the Briangular swim suits. The bathing costumes were fun and functional—with sleek Art Deco-style curves of color.
This swim suit, as well constructed as the model’s abdominals, was applauded with a healthy amount of satisfactory hollers from the crowd.
Top on our hit list was this cotton shift. We would kill to have it as a beach pull over. The back of the dress was super cute too, with a hole for your shoulder blade to peek out of. There were also some hot grey and black stretch pants, a wonderfully androgynous black sleeveless hoodie with bright overlapping colors paired with skinny jeans, a mermaid style glittering blouse, and a sleek transparent black dress over footless tights layered with lace to name a few of the eye catching pieces.
After the show, things got a little kinky at the after party. The night came to a full swing with boozing and boogieing upstairs. I paused, from some serious hip-shaking on the dance floor, to tell Brian Lichtenberg looking more shy than proud, how much I enjoyed the show. He was still downstairs demurely accepting the zealous praises of every one that walked by. The California native designer was sweet and gentle. He looked like someone who you wanted to hold your hand.
Here the red hot redhead Brian is with his handsome friend and the saucy Lisa from “America’s Next Top Model.” Lisa was so friendly she had me feel her ass not once but twice. “No, you have to touch it where it meets my leg!” she scolded. Lisa was set out to prove to me that models do have asses (even though I never really asked). Her bum felt nice though; I scored.
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The Moth StorySLAM, first Tuesdays each month at the club Tangier, has qualities of the finest species of events in Los Feliz. It’s affordable ($6 cover) and fun, and it spins an idea that could be exclusive into a uniquely participatory event.
The Ninja's biggest problem is that he just wasn't very funny. Patton Oswalt on the other hand, who went on before the Ninja, killed the audience in a way the Ninja can only dream about. In full-on computer geek mode, Oswalt dreamed about only communicating with the world through MySpace messages. YouTube, he said, allows us to act like demented Roman Emperors, demanding to see gay pandas and farting Republicans for our enjoyment. 
