I was just getting ready to write a column about wishing there were more drive-in theatres still in operation when a car went by my window with The Police’s “”Roxanne” blaring from its stereo system. Why anyone would crank that at full volume is a mystery to me, but the two tweakers standing on a corner nearby took it as a sign from God to start singing it at the top of their lungs. That sparked a memory of Eddie Murphy, which led me to the conclusion that “”Things to Do in California When You’re Tweaking” would make a great title for a column. (Don’t ask me how I came to that conclusion and why it took Murphy to get me there. The mind works in mysterious ways.) The only problem: I had no way to tie in movies with tweakers.
Every drug addict I’ve ever talked to has horror stories about being on drugs and watching a film. One meth addict even had a great tale of seeing the first part of “”Hellraiser” while in a state of paranoia that would have put William S. Burroughs to shame. I don’t have to go into detail, but it was exactly how you’d imagine it.
The problem with tweakers and some other addicts is that they can’t sit still long enough to see a film. This is especially true of the younger ones who were raised on commercials and crappy MTV-inspired movies. You can’t get them to talk about films, either, because while the conversation may start off fine, it soon trails off into this rambling sort of lecture about the “”fuckers trying to mess my shit up.”
There have been several good movies made about tweakers. “”Requiem for a Dream” and “”Spun” are two that come to mind. And there are good films made by people I am pretty sure were on drugs, like “”JFK.” But how could I tie all of this in with in a column about Hollywood?
I know, I could offer suggestions to addict tourists visiting my state.
If you’re an addict, you have got to get your ass down to Hollywood. It’s not that the drugs are cheaper or more plentiful. No. There’s just more to do. One of the best activities is to find some B-grade star, like Tori Spelling, and follow her around while screaming, “”You owe me money for the crystal meth I sold you! Don’t try to deny it because you were on “˜Celebrity Fit Club’ or some shit. I want my money, bitch!” If that doesn’t provide you with hours of entertainment, you aren’t doing enough drugs.
I would also encourage would-be tourist tweakers to pack some nice clothes. Why? Game shows. Imagine how fun it would be to spin the wheel on “”The Price is Right” while spun out of your mind. Imagine the looks of fear on the faces of the host and director as you stand up there bouncing from one foot to the other as you wipe your nose with the back of your sleeve and say, “”I’m very fucking happy to be here. I never win the Lotto.” Classic.
Hollywood, as many people know, is the film capital of the US, but there are other locations throughout the state that have ties to movies. Northern California saw Ewoks and dinosaurs, and a sleepy little town called Ferndale hosted the 1970s television mini-series “”Salem’s Lot.” Loleta was used in “”Halloween III: Season of the Witch,” as well. Why not take a tour of all the state’s many film locations, trying to score drugs in each one of them? Imagine the respect you’ll gain from your user friends when you tell them the heroin they’re injecting came from the same town where David Soul fought off vampires. That should, at the very least, get you a hand job.
If that seems like too much traveling, you can hang out in San Francisco, where stars like to spend some quality time away from the all the hoopla they find in Hollywood. The celebs are treated like “”regular” people there, which means they get the best seats in restaurants without the paparazzi being called. Don Johnson, Dean Cain and others are apparently regulars on the SF scene. Why not look for them and try your best to get them to give you their autograph. If you can get them to that, you should also ask if they know of a good place to get “”fucked up” so that you and your “”old lady” can have a swingin’ time. Hell, invite them. I hear Mr. Johnson is a nice guy. Maybe he’ll take you up on your offer. Then again, he might punch you in the face. If he does that — pay day!
California and Hollywood offer a great many venues for those on various controlled substances. You just have to know where to look and have an understanding of how to amuse yourself in the presence of royalty. If you’re bored with the same old alleys and drug dens that smell like piss and chemicals, come walk the streets of SoCal and connect with your inner film buff. We could use the tourist money, and you could use the vacation. Scoring dope is hard work these days, and everyone needs a little “”me” time.
Posted on March 21, 2007 in Blogs by Excess Hollywood
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