Flying from LA to Japan has thrown my already confused body-clock an International Date Line-shaped curve ball. Flying west over the IDL springs you a whole day into the future, meaning you can set off on a 10 hr flight at midday on Monday and arrived at 4pm on Tuesday; it truly is geography's own flux capacitor. Consequently I'm writing this at 5:30am on Wednesday but I can't help feeling its Tuesday tea time, so maybe I'll try downloading some Neighbours or Countdown to make me more at home in this new future-world.
The rest of our time in LA flew by in a whirlwind of sun, swimming pools and saturated fat. I ate at a place called Norm's 4 times before its wildly unhealthy food and self-esteem sapping atmosphere finally finished our short love affair. My final meal there was a 6 dollar monstrosity called 'Norm's Ole Time Gigantic Chocolate Brownie Sundae Puddin' ' or something to that effect. It featured a chocolate brownie the size of a laptop, piled high with ice cream, squirty cream, hot chocolate sauce, and a single cherry for all you five-a-day fans out there. I reached about a third of the way through it before all my self-respect had disappeared, and I vowed never to darken Norm's doors again.
The sheer concentration of famous people in LA is pretty special. The locals are used to it I guess. None of our hotelmates batted a surgically-enhanced eyelid when Dog The Bounty Hunter ambled to his favourite spot by the pool, looking every inch the 'gay lion' that Charlie Brooker described. We starstruck out-of-towners gawped and whispered, trying to persuade each other to go and get a picture with him, until eventually he and his leathery missus wandered off to go and have a quick pray and track down a couple of petty fraudsters. Real opportunity missed there :(
Searching for a slice of real LA, we took a trip down to Venice beach (you might recognise it from a few Cypress Hill videos). Its basically like a massive OTT version of Camden Town on a beach, with added lifeguard huts full of Hoff-a-likes and open-air gyms full of muscley 'roid heads (both steroids and haemmorroids). I did a few chin-ups, which must have burned off a least a dozen of the 4000 calories I took on at Norm's.
We wandered round and bumped into Zoltar from the film Big, who was hanging out in his box. He told us he was the great Zoltar, laughed and shiftily rolled his eyes, before falling into a deep trance. Oh well, they always say you should never meet your heroes.
Anyway, our hefty promo schedule begins tomorrow so I should get some sleep. The hotel room has a balcony with an enormous sheer drop, that I'm worried about sleep walking off. Although should I avoid that, it could be a great venue for a Suge Knight-style dangling, so watch out all potential double-crossers. Night night.
Jack x