L.A. aka Par-boiled turkey giblets

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Next up on our travels was “El Pueblo de Nuestra Señora la Reina de los Ángeles de Porciuncula”, or if you use its abbreviation - L.A. Imagine having to use the full name every time you talked about the city. It sure would ruin any rap songs. I’ve heard from my source Ron Burgundy that its English translation is “par-boiled turkey giblets”.

Due to our relatively brief stay in the city we booked into a central hostel from which we could walk to many of the central sights. We started with the customary Hollywood Walk of Fame. I was amazed at how many of the people I’d never heard of. I also thought that ridiculous Hollywood names were a recent thing - Ice Cube, Snoop Dogg etc, but apparently not, there’s a Hollywood star for some old dead guy named Soupy Sales. What annoyed me is that Donald Trump has a star, honestly what the f*ch has that guy done to deserve that? It’s clearly been paid for, rich b@stard.

Outside the famous Grauman’s Chinese Theatre (where the Oscars are often held), we checked out the buskers who were dressed as various famous film stars, the Transformers ones were amazing. We also had a gander at the famous fingerprints in the cement outside the theatre, as a random aside I have exactly the same size hands as Michael Keaton. Not sure what that means for me?

The following day we awoke to a friggin psycho lady, she was screaming at the top of her lungs that someone had parked in front of her car so that she couldn’t get out and she had a VERY IMPORTANT audition. I’m pretty sure she would have woken everyone, but I’m also pretty sure the culprit didn’t appear out of fear of being decapitated.

Since we were up we decided to head out to Venice Beach. Venice Beach has to be the best place in the world to people-watch, there’s just so many individuals or as they are more commonly known: ‘bloody weirdos’.

This was confirmed when within a few minutes of arriving we saw a family wheeling a pig in a kids stroller, a guy wearing a “Thou shall not believe in God” t-shirt, a skinny pasty uncoordinated hairy white guy that thought he was Michael Jordan and two 6 -foot-plus tough looking black guys that turned out to be the campest roller-skaters imaginable.

The only other things I remember about LA were that we found an awesome Thai restaurant, there are some phenomenal houses, the banks don’t like foreign bank-cards and the culprit was still parked in front of the psycho ladies car when we left. I know this because of a very angry letter left on the windscreen that used colourful language and I don’t mean from the roy-g-biv spectrum.

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