All joking aside - deadly serious - we will miss Amy Winehouse as a talented singer and creative being. She had soul, but was destined to go. Stay off o' those drugs, kids! Peace, -Todd
Before things got really weird, I made a joke that Mr. Negative simply didn't understand. "Where are the Oslo Sisters?" he bellowed. "Oh, they left," I said in jest, when in fact they were getting pretty in the make-up room. Naw, I laughed, they'll be right back. Mr. Negative had just bought the largest/cheapest bottle of vodka that Hollywood had to offer. "Shit!" he thundered, assuming the girls were gone forever. This all took place 'round midnight, in the "hotel."
Here is where Mr. Negative made a horrible mistake, in fact, a faux pas. He returned the booze. We knew he was twisted, but this was just stoopid! He obviously had been generous A) to score with the lovely Oslo Sisters and B) only to them and C) only a sillyman returns booze and D) ALL OF THE ABOVE.
When he got back the O. Sisters were back, looking more beautiful than ever. He gave me a cold stare. "I told you they'd be back, bro!" but he wasn't my bro, and he went BACK to get the vodka he's just returned. Meanwhile, DJ Geeky Glasses (who will only be mentioned once) was spinning some horrible noise that no-one was into. Mr. Negative returned with the same bottle of cheap liquor he had before. I called the G-man for backup. He's something like The Wolf in Pulp Fiction.
Disclaimer: the Oslo Sisters made it very clear from the beginning that they were vikings, and proceeded to drink the guys under the table. They included 3 Bold Brits, a Wasted Comedian, and Mr. Negative. I abstained, having been in this situation before, and the smart thing to do is to NOT get into a drinking game with anyone from Scandinavia. Period! But, of course, the Wasted Comedian didn't know this, and quickly fell into their trap. He was already wasted, and quickly became more so. And it was his first day in LA. Wow.
"Welcome to Hell!" I joked ... or maybe only half joked ...
The 3 Bold Brits held their own. I feel like on a different day, with different Scandinavians, and better drinks, we could have been friends. But Mr. Negative would have none of it. He saw each of us as a threat to "his" girls. He was only a threat to his (negative) self.
He tried to sabotage any effort to woo the Sisters. He was losing. Mr. Negative's second mistake was saying that he sometimes punches small children in the stomach. That's not hardcore, that's just weak.
This is not funny, and furthermore, a joke is something that should bring joy or laughter and/or is funny! But he was a bummer... a real turn off. Right at this moment G-Man showed up and saved the day. The slide into darkness was briefly interrupted by a ray of synthetically induced light. We jumped into hearty banter about the (dying) music industry, while the Wasted Comedian slurred one liners and the Brits were busy being bold, fueled by vodka.
The decision was made to move the party to the 24 hour coffee shop. At 2 A.M., this was the right thing to do. Now all were wasted (except me and the G-Man). We were cracking one-liners, while the Wasted Comedian did lines and the 3 Bold Brits did crack. Mr. Negative hollered if it was possible if I could shut up for thirty seconds? I wasn't interested. But in fairness to him, I will now be silent for thirty seconds before writing further ......
The shit got nutty. Mr. Negative lifted his shirt to show where a bullet had grazed him. "Poor baby" I muttered. Showing off again, negative. Party tip: starlets who go to LA want PRESTIGE, not "ghetto." Man, do you know how easy it is to get a bullet-hole tattoo in this town? The Bold Brits who were now down to two, made bold comments, while the Wasted Comedian snickered. "Stop touching my hair" said one of the Oslo Sisters to Mr. Negative. This just made him more negative.
He boasted, "You musicians must know the label called XOXO!" (name changed, Editor.) G-Man said coolly, "Nope, never heard of it," with feigned interest. "What?!" Mr. Negative erupted in disbelief, trying to show off (again). "You HAVE TO KNOW XOXO! Everyone KNOWS XOXO!" G-Man explained that he wasn't in the "scene" (although he really is!).
"Robby Williams just signed a deal for 80 million bucks" said one of the Brits, picking up our music discussion. "100 million" we corrected him. The point being, that he probably doesn't care that he's largely unknown in the US. The Wasted Comedian was having a garbled discussion about bad comedy when Mr. Negative said, "Robin Williams is BIG TIME in America!" Oh gawd. Robin Williams is NOT Robbie Williams! He'd confused the issue. Poor Negative Bastard. It was an odd mix: (not the people) the coffee, vodka, wine, weed, bad ideas and even worse jokes. The Oslo Sisters' golden locks dazzled the array of fine fellows, blinding them with beauty. Misguided flirtation became slurred jabs at greatness.
The Sisters tuned out and turned off. The time for sleep had come(without boys). I knew that I had lost, but in fact, triumphed. The G-Man and I took off in the general direction of Mexico ...