Ahoy film snots from the deep end of the Hollywood Roosevelt Pool where Poppa H is enjoying another one of his 96 annual vacation days catfishing below the famous diving board where pinup goddess Marilyn Monroe first unleashed her va-va-va-vooms in front of the life sucking Hollywood cameras…Why’s Aqua Dork chilling at the bottom of a pool?  Dude (whispering), keep it hush-hush but I just got thrown off that balcony by Kimbo Slice, the Ultimate Fighting Champion after a testy brunch time altercation.  How could you not see that shit?  I’m hiding from the beast.  Get lost.

Lucky for me, my father raised a little stuntman who was taught to make sweet ass poolside landings on Gin Rummy tables full of retired hoofers from the Busby Berkeley circuit.  These birds were so drunk they didn’t even feel my heroin chic impact.  Of course, once I saw the several dozen unoccupied oxygen tanks by the table, bada-bing, forget about it, here I am hiding underwater from the cruel world like Dusty Hoffman in The Graduate.  Trust me, this is how people stay ahead in LA, by finding clever ways to sink to new lows…

Giving “Malcolm In The Middle” A Whole New Meaning


Bare Fisted


I won’t go into why Mr. Slice felt obliged to throw me off my own balcony but I admit, last night, I was out of line when I threatened to kill the 400 pound gentleman and stuff him into the Tropicana Bar piano if he didn’t cool it on all the bare-fisted backyard brawl stories… One can only take so much violence.  Maybe it was the 12 snifters of brandy that compelled me, but I popped off with the following capricious salvo, I’m paraphrasing:

Then Kimbo picked me up and planted me head first into a nearby Palm Tree Planter.  Man, if it sounds funny, it wasn’t.  I’m wearing like an underwater neck brace right now, lawsuit pending.  Someone tell me when the big guy checks out...

King Of The Demo vs. Will Ferrell On Conan

Foot Fist Way opening June 6th

Is the scary man gone?  Now for today’s post: For those “hella slow” on the take, when you last saw the cinematic master of disaster, it was Cinco de Mayo at the Roosevelt and MRF was in town for the premier of the movie The Foot Fist Way (check out last week’s Reel for the full review). 

Opening in SF on June 6th, If you’ve already seen the FFW website and are aching for another hit of the Fred Simmons magic, click on this clip of Fred and his demo team on Conan O’Brien where Fred (Danny McBride) works his special blend of Andy Kaufman inspired brilliance on a seemingly stunned Conan and Will Ferrell.  Are Will and Conan in on the joke?  What do you think you fucking retards?*  The answer is hell yes, The King of the Demo could totally take Kimbo Slice.

As for the post premier Fiesta in Pool Cabana Room #217, Kimbo and the Demo King were cordial; everything was cool until the cops showed up.  Perhaps it was the 800 gallons of tequila we poured down our booze holes, or the revelry generated from a movie premier that was two years in the making, but something loco this way come and kept coming that night in the form of cops in sombreros, piñata porn, ghosts & specters, freaks & geeks, whores with sores, actors, fiends, pimps, deans, strippers, priests, thugs, mugs, rappers, punkers, poppers, and did I mention the rock band The Scorpions popped by to borrow two Hoop-Ts and 4 bottles of tequila? 

German Scorpions Storm Ze Hollywood Roosevelt


The Scorpions


And that’s not even the weird part…If you didn’t get the memo, this grand hotel is haunted as balls by an entire cast of celebrity ghosts like Marilyn Monroe and Monty Clift.  Am I living in a fantasy?  After hearing 33 ghost stories a day, you’d start believing.  Ask any hotel staffer, you hear the same, Marilyn’s Ghost still dances in the ballrooms.  Ask the crazy pool bartenders and watch them go all Rick Moranis (in Ghostbusters) on you…If you love ghosts and shizz like that and ever happen to stay at the Roosevelt, try drumming up some spectral shenanigans by reserving one of these Haunted Roosevelt Hotel Suites….

But back to The Scorpions who knocked on my door 2 minutes after the Five-O kicked everyone out.  It went a little like this: Knock, knock, who’s there?  In a thick German accent, I hear then see: