It’s not easy to organize a flash mob in a city as notoriously spread out as Los Angeles, which makes the annual international No Pants Metro Ride Day the perfect occasion to rally in the name of fun and public confusion. The requirements: no pants, no explanations.
I wasn’t scared to go into the Museum of Death until I called to talk to the owner J.D. Healy to schedule an appointment for my visit. “Do you know what you are getting yourself into? Have you been here before?” are not usually words that I am used to hearing when calling to schedule a museum tour. J.D. went on to tell me how fabulous his museum was but wanted to make sure that I was aware of the fact that some of the pieces inside are a bit intense and that people do pass out in the middle of their tour from time to time. Long story short, this conversation resulted in a slew of mixed emotions on my part. On one hand I was jumping at the chance to conquer my fears of whatever might lie inside and on the other hand, I basically spent the entire week before my visit a tiny bit on edge.
Johnny Love is such a cheerful name. It sounds like a happy-go-lucky radio announcer on one of those oldies stations. Little do you know that when you meet Johnny Love, he has a dark and mystical infatuation with skeletons, black cats, graveyards, spider webs, bats, ghosts, and witches. His favorite holiday is Halloween and he has dedicated a large portion of his life towards bringing his beloved dark side to life. He’s spent an unfathomable amount of money on frightening décor, has storage units filled with Halloween decorations, and his birthday and Christmas lists consist of ‘presents’ including antique radios, skulls, and vintage chandeliers.
For most of us the awkward creations of our adolescence are safely tucked away in the back of a closet or in the deep reaches of the attic. We stumble upon these relics while packing or spring-cleaning, we laugh, cringe, reminisce and then tuck our creations back in the boxes where they live. Then there are the few among us who drag out old journals, letters, poems, lyrics, plays, home movies, and art and present them publicly. Welcome to the world of Mortified, a hybrid of stand up comedy, performance art and show and tell; a meeting of comedy and catharsis.
Venice Beach has a reputation for being an outstanding location for people watching, but if you’d like to venture beyond the world of crazy tourists, eclectic beach vendors, Muscle Beach, and tattooed passerbys, walk through the doors of the Venice Beach Freakshow. It’s usually hard to miss. Todd Ray, who runs the operation with his son Phoenix, is often outside trying to lure people in with a sneak peak at one of his two-headed turtles. Once inside, you’ll find a world of wonders. The Venice Beach Freak Show currently houses an impressive array of two-headed and very much alive animals, over sixty strange creatures, and a continuously running live show with extraordinary acts such as sword swallowers, the Rubber Girl, fire eaters, the Electric Lady, and Larry the Wolf Boy.
Ask anyone and they will tell you that I love things that look like things but are actually other things. Like Chocolate Weapons. I’m not a huge fan of actual guns, bullets or grenades. And I hope to never see any of these things up close ever in my lifetime. But the idea of chocolate anything peeks my interest, add the intriguing shapes of destruction and well, I think they just might have something here.
Around Halloween, the inhabitants of all those cozily, carefully-shrouded McMansions in Beverly Hills turn their eyes to the scariest thing in town: The Witch House, which looks like something like a cross between the Gingerbread House in Hansel and Gretel, and a hobbit home in Rivendell. It was built in the 1920s for a bunch of silent, and presumably creepy, films — hey, it was used in the Alicia Silverstone movie Clueless! — before finally being relocated to Beverly Hills. Unfortunately it’s not something open to public view, so the best you can hope for is a drive-by, or, for the particularly brave, a nosy peek through the windows.
A song called “The Walls are Coming Down” featured in an eye-catching new video that spotlights one of the world’s only remaining escape artists? How could that not pique someone’s interest? Catch up on what’s new with London’s Fanfarlo, and delve into their genre-bending, anarchistic plans for world musical domination.
Gold Bug is a deco and curiosity shop tucked behind Old Town Pasadena’s main drag, just a block off of Colorado Boulevard. Brimming with entomological rarities, heart-stopping artisan jewelry, toys, knick-knacks, spider-adorned dishes and hilarious taxidermy, this place is a total treasure trove. Forget kid in a candy-store, when I walked in here I felt like Marie entering the magical kingdom in The Nutcracker [really]. It’s easy to get lost amidst gilded walnuts stacked in candy dishes beside brass jumbo teeth and towering old-school hourglasses, delicate golden keys hanging in bunches from porcelain display hands and stacks of tin crowns inviting customers to play dress-up. Though the prices can get a bit steep, the merchandise is precisely the kind you’d actually want to save up for. Perfect example: a huge oxidized silver ring with shimmering blue butterfly wings under glass. In the words of Garth: “One day, it will be mine. Oh yes, it will be mine.”
For those of you into the Supercross scene you are well aware of James Stewart Jr., better known as James “Bubba” Stewart, and as seen above, alter ego, “Rick” James Stewart. For those of you not in the know I’m about to school you, Stewart is really the first black supercross athlete who has pretty much dominated just about every race he’s competed in.
Stewart won the 2009 Monster Energy® AMA Supercross, an FIM World Championship, season finale in Las Vegas. On the winner’s stand he was presented with a one of a kind, custom, Guitar Hero Guitar.
