Grade A, as promised. After our electrical failure FAIL at the Abbot Kinney Festival, it took another 10 days or so of bureaucracy to get the HD (health department) to reinspect everything and make sure it was up to speed.
IN OTHER NEWS, I’ve been supremely preoccupied with a non-Kogi/Chego-related Roy Choi/Papi Chulo project on the west side called Sunny Spot. I can’t say too much more about it except that it’s turned into a much more ambitious project than I had anticipated and thusly IT SHALL BE MORE AWESOME THAN I HAD ANTICIPATED.
In a strange sequence of events, I fell down the rabbit hole of tumblr-ing for research and development purposes and survived the crack hit of beautiful images, play lists on auto-play in auto-tune and series after series of GIFs of classic poop-cultural movie moments.
I mean, just picture after picture of donuts fresh from the fryer, ooey gooey pepperoni pizzas, cupcakes in every color, candy, sprinkles, candy-sprinkled nail art, elegant charcuterie, blocks and blocks of cheeses, waffles with bacon butter and maple syrup, 5-layer cake slices, 5-layer rainbow cake slices, 5-layer tie-dyed rainbow cake slices, 5-layer tie-dyed rainbow cakes that make some pop cultural reference to movie that was hot before the tumblr-er was even born, it’s CRAZY!
AND they are SKINNY!!!! (As evidenced by their daily photo updates that are above and beyond the high-angle self-portrait mirror shots from the ’05 era of MySpace.)
It’s either their college-age/HS metabolism at work or perhaps the possibility that they EAT WITH THEIR EYES.
Vegetables and salads that aren’t potato-based are foreign to these tumblr-ers. NAY. In their own tumblr-verse they apparently live on cheese that’s artfully sprayed from a can over a large, pizza-sized chocolate chip cookie. They dip Oreos in melted chocolate and jam them into a layer of cookie dough that is then layered in peanut butter and then layered in brownie batter and topped with marshmallows before being baked in the oven. I can even see Paula Deen shaking her head at this unholy marriage between Betty Crocker and Duncan Hines.
Or maybe they’re just hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh half the time and this is their way of coping with the munchies.
Fascinating, fascinating creatures.
SO. I’mmabout to commit a transgression of tumblr etiquette and not tag/reblog/link-back-to where these photos and screen shots came from. Not out of spite, but through the tunnel of over stimulation, I just can’t recall where most of these originated from.
IN OTHER NEWS, I just checked out the LA Haunted Hay Ride last week at Griffith Park and, lemme tell ya, I was IMPRESSED.
$25 a head and worth EVERY penny. Well, if you get there before 8PM. And if you arrive there after 9:30PM? Good luck having a good time! Chances are that you’ll be so aggravated by the search for a parking space located half a mile from the actual festivities as well as the 3-hour wait to actually get to the ride that it’ll kill half your happy-spooky buzz.
Thankfully most of it isn’t disturbingly creepy like The Ring, though you will receive your fair share of the kind of scare that’ll make you uncomfortable for a hot minute. Fog machines are set on high as you arrive to the mist-covered, carnival-esque space. There’s a food stand/truck selling chocolate chip pumpkin pancakes, popcorn and sticky candy/caramel(?) apples. A modestly-sized human menagerie and also a stage for tricks and hilariously-scripted magic shows. Hecklers heckle from the center of the labyrinthian maze of a line and vendors dressed and in character as ghouls and clowns recently escaped from the asylum are selling cotton candy, hot dogs and popcorn.
There’s also this disturbingly sad and aggressive man-baby with flesh-colored Jason mask that watches you from afar or, when triggered, will crawl after you at 75 miles per hour.
As for the ride itself? WORTH IT. Haunted houses generally don’t scare me, but I was scared outta my mind several times during the ride. There are certain moments where you’re like, “Oooh, scary. But good thing he’s in a cage. He can’t get to us when he’s — ”
AND THE DOOR WILL SWING OPEN. The engine of the tractor you’re riding will theatrically “fail”. And even though I know that this is all fake and not real and all staged, the bravest thing I could muster was to hide my face in my friend’s lap as he came after us.
ANNNNNNNNND since we’re on the subject of Halloween, I found these pics of kids in costume on BoingBoing that date from 1875 to 1955 and, let me tell ya, Halloween must’ve been a helluvalot scarier back in the day.
Love, tacos and candy corn,