Celebrity Interviews: http://www.bluntreview.com Blunterettes , I lead a truly strange life as film reviewer and celebrity interviewer Emily Blunt of BluntReview.com...this is true. In the a.m. it's off to interview a celeb, and by the afternoon, I am dining off The 99 Cent Store products, in the evening - it's gowns and petit fours among the "elite." Oh, this double-life that's mine. You wanna know what I'm up to? Sure, here you go.

Saturday, April 16, 2005

Pool He Says...

The two of us thought, "How fun it would be to stroll into a local poolhall - filled with characters - and shoot a few games...."

So, I'd spotted a properly neighborhood-esque establishment down the street from my humble abode - we would meet there.

I end up in the front of the place a bout thirty minutes early. Before I can take-a-peek through the windows to "check da joint out...an odd, non-souled style, frankly, frightening man, sallies forth into the place and I get a "whiff" of its inner workings; not only is this place so not hip and filled with Ratzo Rizzo-styled grifters (harmless unless you're loaded). But, it smells like a frat house bathroom - post hazing night and its clientel are decidedly dangerous sorts with a denture-set of teeth between them. It was properly Tarantino, and no place for a sweet gay male, and a little blonde...I'm no wimp. I been strolling into Iceman Cometh like bars since a wee lass with my sailor dad - but this place had none of that scallywag warmth...it was all cut throats and shifty fellas hell bent on trouble.

At least that's the feeling I got. And, I was so not going in there. Meanwhile it's also the high-holy day for me, Friday;Friday is the night I usually trek to a place on Fairfax called, Largo (Mecca) to see (Guru) Jon Brion - he's kinds my musical guru since Joe Strummer died.

My friend always poo-poos Largo. He wont go, saying, "They're snobs and you can't even get properly drunk!" Well, that's not exactly true. They have Guinness on tap for only 5.00 and they respectfully ask you don't chat during shows - it's not Boston Garden and voices carry...

But, I digress....So, here I ma on the wrong side of the hood, and I am starting to get nervous. My friend's called. He's around the corner. I tell him, " Pick me up and we can flee. I have already been approached twice for a sexual transaction and the cops have circled three times..." Naturally, I was dressed, shall we say, eclectically. I had seen a film before we were to meet, and rushed out so as not to be late....I was wearing no socks - flood pants (because I couldn't find another pair in the six foot pile), several very ornate miss-matched scarfs (I hate airconditioning) and of course one of my signature "loud" grily coats. I'm not one to coordinate and check a mirror before veturing forth! On the east coast walking your dogs with no make-up and your hair ala Grinch is normal...Here children flee from my path; they all take an hour to great the day, even if just to walk the poor dogs that have to pee.
So, in my haste, and knowing we were "just" going to a dive, I made no attempt to pretty-up. Which I can do.

Now I stood like a street urchin, in front of what I'd discovered was the sleaziest pool hall in all of LA - and NOT in a cool way.

Just as a third car was coming to see what my leisure fees were, my friend squeals into my view! Alas, I am free.

We ended up at Ernies - a Mexican place with lousy service and even lousier food - but after their huge marghritas.... it really didn't seem to matter.
He dropped me off after dinner, and I still had time to redress, slip over the hill and catch the second set at Largo.

The night was s saved, and brion and his motley crew help cleanse away the ickyschnitzel feeling of the hours before. Play pool indeed.


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12:10 PM


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