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July 30th, 2000
Greetings from the land of the beautiful people,
I'm sitting here on the balcony of a hotel room that costs more for a one
night stay than a month's rent back in O-town.
Below me at poolside sit assorted models, actors and hanger-ons, chuckle at
each others jokes while they sip mineral water thru collagen enhanced lips.
I'm sitting above them on a beanbag chair typing away on the laptop and
trying to fit in (trust me when I say that it's not working)
How'd I wind up here? Good question. Jason and I went out for a night on
the town and wound up at some cool little bar. (You could tell it was a
cool place cause it didn't have a sign) As we're trying to be nonchalant
about the price of beers we struck up a conversation with these Japanese
guys sitting next to us. Well to tell ya the truth I tried striking up a
conversation after seeing the UFO tattoo on one guys arm. He didn't speak a
lot of English but I managed to get across the fact that I run a website and
he immediately whipped out this ultra thin laptop with some sort of wireless
connection to the World Wide Weird and typed in Freakylinks.com to see what
I was all about. For about 10 minutes he just keep scrolling thru the
stories while his friends huddled around him and kept speaking to each
other. Finally one of them turned to me and said, "Monsters, number 1!" and
we all became friends for life. When we left that bar we went back to the
hotel where they are staying. It's on the Sunset strip and there was a rave
going on in the lobby and a girl dressed in a fur bikini at the reception
desk. (Oh yeah, this is Los Angeles)
We spent the rest of the night drinking sake up in their room and discussing
various monsters around the world. (Loch Ness seems to be all the rage these
days in Tokyo) Anyways Jason and I crashed on the floor for the night and
when we woke up they were all gone. I promptly ordered a late breakfast
and whipped out my trusty laptop to bring you guys up to speed on the
nefarious activities of your favorite roaming web master.
So here I sit waiting for my 10 dollar omelet to arrive from room service
and listening to Jason as he plays DJ on the room's stereo with various
Japanese rock cd's the guys have.
There's still no word on when Jason's truck situation is going to be
resolved so we've got another day free to roam around in Freak Central.
There's a couple of museums I've heard about that I'm itching to go see so
maybe I'll motorvate in that direction a little later.
I called Lan and she says that the Freakylinks bus failed to explode during
the bus race and actually crossed the finish line (that's a good thing) She
refused to tell me what place we came in though. She says I'll have to wait
till I get back home to see the tape. Guess that's fair since I made her go
out there and do some bonding with the fine folks in Bithlo. As soon as I
know, you'll know boys and girls.
That's about it from the front lines, Jason and I should probably skedaddle
from this place before the fashion police find out we're here and arrest us
for not wearing enough Paul Frank. . . . . .oh wait, I think one of the
models at the pool is trying to make eye contact with me.
. . .Nope, she was just getting some smog out of her eye.
More as it develops.
Hurdy gur
Derek "double latte with a twist" Barnes
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