Archive for the 'L.A. Stories' Category
Spewin’ Stars
Hear that weird sound Halloween night? Yeah, it actually was Johnny Grant thrashing in his grave. This kid’s the culprit, thanks to his gut-wrenching critiques on Hollywood’s Walk of Fame. There he was, livin’ large as they say at Hollywood and Highland, hurlin’ on the stars’ stars.
Is it real puke?
“Yes. I tried to eat different gross combos of food, like for Wesley Snipes I ate Doritos and milk. I was hoping it would look really foul, but it all ended up looking the same.”
See, this is the kind of stuff you get at Vice magazine, bless ‘em. Stumbled across a copy recently at the oh-so fashionable Rogue Status in Venice.
Okay, so it’s 4am in Tinseltown. Of course the LAPD wouldn’t be around. Did anyone try to stop pukeboy?
“One person yelled at my friend while he was peeing on Siegfried & Roy’s star, but it was in Spanish so I don’t know what he said. Maybe he was saying, ‘Right on!’”
How many stars did you puke on
“Twelve. There were tons more I wanted to do but I ran out of time. Plus I got really sick from doing it. I couldn’t eat for four days and my teeth felt really gravelly for a few days afterward from the stomach acid, I guess. I’m sorry I didn’t get to do Pierce Brosnan or Kim Basinger or Mariah Carey or Johnny Depp. And unfortunately Ethan Hawke, Russell Crowe, and Sandra Bullock don’t even have stars.”
So you just, like, hate these people?
“Yeah, with the exception of Meryl Streep and Olivia Newton-John. Those were affectionate pukes.”
More at Vice. Or, the ultimate puke synonym page.
