Wanna stay alive? Stay with me.

The title of this post is a quote from a film. That film, is Die Hard. Actually, it might be from one of the Die Hard video games. I forget. Either way, it's present because yesterday I went to see the Fox Plaza building, or as it's better known (in the first Die Hard film at least) Nakatomi Tower, where Bruce Willis kicks the crap out of a bunch of thieving Krauts. What a long. complicated way to describe such a dull detail. Also, I'll shove in some more Die Hard quotes during this post for my own amusement. For example:

Now I've got a machine gun. Ho Ho ho.

The last few days have been very perculiar, in a fun way. I spent a couple of days on a train traveling to Hollywood, Los Angeles. On the first night I was there I went to the Academy of Motion Picture where I was told there would be an exhibition of Oscars photos. I thought it may be worth a look. After a two hour walk getting there however, I found the exhibition closed as there was some kind of special event going down. I was intrigued naturally. I asked a few of the press guys and was told that this was the evening where they showcase the Oscar nominees for best Documentary and Short Documentary. They assumed that it would be invite only, but I managed to find out that even ramshackle members of the public such as myself were allowed to drop in. So I did.

Come out to the coast, we'll get together, have a few laughs...

Looking very much out of place, wearing the classic t-shirt, jeans, trainer, and Bam cap combo, the seemingly important men in suits and ladies in fine evening dresses, the kind of people that Brian in Spaced (series 1, episode 3) would describe as "just a bunch of wankers, influential people", chose to avoid me. This was fine. I played it to my advantage to give me time to knock down some brewskies and buffet food. I always did enjoy making free nourishment a friend of mine. And this was good food for important people. Food far too good for ruffians such as myself.

You might say that I was just the fly in the ointment. The monkey in the wrench. The pain in the ass.

So we got to see some extended highlights of the nominated features which was a lot of fun, and then the filmmakers stood up and said a few words themselves. Then I was allowed to get more drunk, still for zero pounds. At that point I had the privilege of being approached by a couple of thoroughly nice people. The lovely Stephania, a former documentary maker, and the cynical but extremely knowledgeable Adam, who remains in the docu business. They allowed me to bore them with my story, and they repaid me by fascinating me with their backgrounds and then scoring me a lift home. A bizarre evening, but one that I certainly won't forget in a while.

Yippee-ki-yay.

Since then I've knocked about a bit. Taking in some of the sights, as you do. Went on a thorough tour of Beverly Hills and Bel-Air, seeing the houses of the rich and the famous. Pitt and Aniston's old gaff was a bit tasty. And then they split up. Also, I chose to urinate in the toilet where George Michael was arrested for doing stuff with someone. It was a lot of fun. But certainly no more fun or no different from urinating anywhere else. Just the regulation amount of fun that anybody should have in the process of urinification. Got it? Good.

You didn't bring me along for my charming personality.

OK, I'll take mercy on you. I'm finished now. Go on, you can totter along now. Bye bye.

Happy trails and kind regards.

Adam Marshall