Moon Under Miami
At least I think that shiny orb floating at the base of the celestial heavens is a moon.
It’s glowing, spiky, and has a face in it.
Overly coiffed fembots may be a bit scary, but it’s Friday, so I’m going with it.
Because I’m sipping my Train, and getting over my flu, and contemplating that touch of bite in the spring desert air in sunny, smoggy, foggy Los Angeles.
The hipsters are flooding the Coffee Beans, rushing to stand still and contemplate their next career move, while the starlets serve plates of avocado salads and Pellegrino on Sunset Boulevard.
The spirit of Sheryl Crow gets her early morning beer buzz on, as the last vestiges of hair metal glam-douche wannabees saunter through the crackling dry Hollywood afternoon. Long hairs outside the Guitar Center. Those last few off the bus, hoping to grab the rockstar fame that was never really there in the first place. Images of Axl Rose sold them a fantasy, and who am I to tell them otherwise?
There’s a premiere tonight, somewhere I’m sure, and fighting 19 year olds will pose with their Starbucks by their SUVs hoping to get onto TMZ, and wonder if their leaked topless photos will make a splash on Perez Hilton.
Danny DeVito’s Hush Hush magazine prints the scoop, as the latest meatgrinders for the digital pixelated grill get spat out like so many bars of soap at the assembly line.
Red Bulls fuel the night, and somewhere a hott with perfect boobs is ordering an apple sour martini, and glancing nervously around the room. The douchebags hover, and she looks nervous.
A spiky haired choad who smells like Axe Bodyspray walks up and says, “Yo.”
“Yos” everywhere, popping up like iphone chat bubbles across the cityscape as the sunlight fades.
It’s another night in the Naked Networked City. Another night up in the Canyon. Swimming pools shimmer. And I get a little drunker.
Lest I ramble any further, I tip my cup of ‘Train to all those who soldier onward and propel this lurching country forward on the backs of cultural spectacle and media chaos. It gets us through the day. And glossy photos never get cavities.
