NEWS - NIGHT EIGHT. THE FREAKS COME OUT AT NIGHT

Later on that night, after the sushi, Robert and I hopped in his Camero and drove (top down) to Hollywood to pay $20 for parking and watch the weirdos. Robert almost got into a fistfight with Batman who for some reason didn't want his picture taken (you dress up like Batman and hang around downtown, pal. You and Jesus and Elvis are prime targets.) Speaking of The Christ I saw the light er, the neon...


I stayed a little more incognito and shot this poor Stormtrooper who was having a little moment of agoraphobia. Or maybe it was a hissy fit because he got lost on his way to the Death Star. I didn't ask.


poor guy... I hope he made it back ok.

I also discovered that the privileged people in Hollywood get to choose between hot or cold sandwiches!


I avoided doing the tourist thing and walk around looking for stars with my favorite celebrities (though I would love to have found Vincent Price's). Besides getting a shot of Dr. Seuss' star for my lady, this is the only star shot I got... good ol Jimmie Dodd! You are missed, sir... whoever you are.


Here's the man who pisses off superheroes


and here's his shot of me


and that's all she wrote for Hollywood on a Friday night for me. Day nine would find me on Venice beach... eating my first In & Out Burger... getting a glimpse of a hero... and finally... finally reaching my destination: La Casa Del Colonel John in San Diego...