The Calm Before the Storm

The best pic on Google search I could find that demonstrates what is going on in my head right now.

I write to you this evening on the eve of my inaugural trip to Amsterdam. Tomorrow morning at 7:00 A.M. I will fly out of LAX for Newark then it's on to The Netherlands. (Good God even the name of the place is awesome!) It is a trip that I have had planned out for 3 months now and anticipation is at maximum capacity.

I will be traveling with my two best friends from college. Two guys that are complete clowns. God's own prototype. Created with no intention of mass production. Many of my stories were instigated by these two individuals. This is without a doubt the calm before the storm. I'm packed. I have my passport. Sketch pad. Journal. Moderately sized American flag and a fully stocked iPod. After a year of getting coffee, sitting on the 405 for countless hours and generally figuring out what the fuck I'm doing out here comes this epic trip to the capital of all that is feel good.

The fact that marijuana can be smoked legally in Amsterdam in all reality doesn't hold that much zeal to me. I'm a California medical marijuana patient and also an experienced connoisseur of fine cannabis. I feel in my days I've smoked some of the finest cheeba this side of the Missisip. (Mainly because they got shit on the other side of it.)

I am a journalist though. First and foremost. I report on and cover the issues that I feel are most pertinent to my readers. My audience is the most important thing to me and by God I will not let you down.

I've tried to mold "The Hollywood Holla" into your top resource for ridiculousness and lunacy since its conception. This is my opportunity to take it to the next level.

Rehashing old stories is fun but it's stale. It's time for some new material and I'm going to report on my adventures every step of the way for the next week I am in Amsterdam. Every horrifyingly spectacular detail of it can be shared on twitter if you follow me at www.twitter.com/heymikejames

I will also try to get a blog up everyday with some pics. It's my intention that you few dedicated followers of "The Holla" can enjoy my antics and live vicariously with a mischievous farm boy in Amsterdam!

Love & Respect,

Mike James

Tips For a Good Time While Abroad

Probably the coolest dude you will ever meet.

In light of all the recent tragedies and loss that we have experienced in the past few days (meaning the loss of Ed Mcmahon, Farra Fawcett and that peder-ass, oh yea and I almost forgot the hundreds of innocent lives lost fighting for freedom in Iran) I thought I would give a light hearted look on some of my conquests on foreign soil.

I am going to Amsterdam in one week and will return with some stupendous stories of ridiculousness. So you could consider this a hype post for what is to come. I plan on trying to "live-blog" or whatever from Amsterdam as I clown at an extreme level.

Let's begin with a few lessons that I have learnt from my foreign travels. Some the hard way, some I was already completely aware of but did it anyway because I don't give a fuck.

1.) "You are American. You do not have to do anything at all to make it blatantly clear that you are American. So don't."

There has to be cultural evidence somewhere that would lead to a reason that all Americans talk really loud. Maybe not all Americans but I do. It must be because we think what we have to say is so much more important that what anyone else has to say or at least I think that.

Point being, I was at Trinity College in Rome, Italy. It is a popular bar among the University of Rome students. I went with a group there one night when I was studying in Italy and drank like the last batch of alcohol on the entire planet was in this bar alone. I was enjoying myself making my group crack up and giggle at my humorous observations of Rome and it's people before I got bored.

In the corner across from us were two eastern European women, one red head one blond, one very attractive, the other not so much and they were both staring me down. I pointed it out to a couple of my buddies they concurred that I was in fact being stared down by two very prostitute-ish looking women.

I could of evaluated the situation rationally. I am 6'5. At the time I had a curly haired mess of a fro that added at least 4 inches. I was also trying to see how many WWF entrance theme songs I could sing barbershop quartet acapella style. Looking back I can see how that would attract attention.

Nonetheless I made an approach.

Hey my name is Mike. I'm from the states.

I'm Helda.

I'm Ezmerelda.

I love girls that have names that end in vowels.

(the blonde with a thick Russian accent) You from the states? You're so tall.

(the red head licks her lips and I realize what I'm doing. I get a sick feeling, then panic.) You're cute.

(the blonde) You like to party?

(the red head) Yea you should come party with us?

I turn around and look at my friends behind me. A couple of my buddies are laughing hysterically and the one girl in our group is shaking her head motioning for me to come back over.

Fuck yea I like to party!

Just then a dude with a leather trench coat, sunglasses (it was 2 in the morning) and a five a clock shadow that was closer to midnight came up behind me and got in between the two girls.

Who the fuck is this?

My heart stops. Instantly sober.

This is Mike he likes to party.

The two girls bounce and giggle in a way that still haunts me.

I'm kind of tired actually.

No expression from the big, angry and very scary Russian dude.

So nice meeting you but look there's my cab!

I run out of the bar, get in a cab, go back to the hotel and go to sleep leaving my group behind.

2.) "Don't assume the locals don't understand English."

A few weeks after the Trinity College incident I was in a different city studying different paintings and the place in Italy to get your art on is Florence. Florence, Italy has been the hub and epicenter for the enlightened academic for centuries. I love art, especially the incredible mosaics but more than that the amount of college students studying art in Florence. It's the Panama City of Italy as much I hate to say that it's a reasonable assessment if you have ever partied in both locations with people of the same age.

So we are at this club called Armageddon or something like that. It was a trance/dark techno type club that I was not digging at all and was getting very bored. I began looking for girls that were looking equally bored. I found two in a booth across the way. I went over to start talking to them. They smiled and didn't speak English really well. A side tip in talking to girls overseas is to talk fast and smile a lot. Let your face express all that is needed to be said. I didn't think they understood a word I said but apparently they were cool with me and I invited my two buddies over to their table.

We got another couple of rounds and clowned with two cute Italian girls. They spoke broken English but we basically just acted like idiots and made them laugh. We then of course when the time came invited them back to our hotel room. The numbers were against us but it didn't deter me one bit. One of the girls kissed me on the way out and we held hands the whole way back.

Signed, sealed and delivered.

We got back and I popped open a round of Peroni beers from our mini fridge. One of my friend's, we will call him Ghetto because that is actually what we call him. He looks like the dude who banged the apple pie on American Pie. He puts that cliched stereotype to shame. He takes the loser that has a great heart but no idea what is going on to a new level.

Ghetto was hammered. Just plain destroyed and began saying whatever came to his mind to these girls thinking they couldn't understand any of it. Meanwhile I'm working my ass off trying to spit game at this girl's friend in a language I'm not even close to speaking correctly.

Why don't you get naked?! What's taking so long? Ha ha ha! They have no idea. I could say anything! You have great tits! I have an incredibly small penis!

The girls begin to giggle a different giggle. Then one leans to the other and covers her mouth as she whispers in her ear. The girl I was talking to begins to giggle the same way.

Dude, I'm pretty sure they understood every word you just said.

Undeterred Ghetto continues.

Please just have sex with me. I promise it will be over before you even know it. Ha ha ha!

The girls laugh again and the girl who I have now realized understands English perfectly is laughing so hard she is crying and holding her hand up demonstrating about 3 inches between her index finger and thumb. The other girl bursts into laughter as well. This is not going well for me.

Dude, you are blowing this for me. Shut the fuck up.

In a fit of laughter the two girls stand up grab a bottle of wine that is not theirs, take their beers with them and head out the door. They didn't even say "chao".

3.) "Buy a round!"

Probably the most important tip I could possibly pass on. The number one key when drinking and being merry is making sure those around you are drinking and being merry as well. It's important to include others in your good time. It's selfish to be having more fun than anyone else and not allow anyone who wants to participate in the good time with you. That's why you buy rounds because it will pay off in many different ways.

The picture above is me on a cruise this past Christmas. We went to Belize, Isla Rotan, Cozumel some other places it was amazing. The most impressive part of the trip was this small club called "Medusa" on the Carnival Cruise ship Legend. The first night on the cruise I went in and there wasn't a soul in there. I sat at the bar, drank Beam and cokes talking to the bar tender, Jacques. I told him I would turn this place into the hottest spot on the sea by the end of the week.

The last night Medusa was max capacity to the point of a huge line of people young and old. I bought 40 red headed sluts and handed them out to the entire dance floor. Jacques told me before I left that it was a record sales week for liquor on the boat. Completely sold out of Jagermiester and Jim Beam. I was the only one drinking Beam though.

I'll do more hyping of Amsterdam before I go. This is just a little taste of what is to come. The Kogi truck (http://kogibbq.com/) is coming to Silverlake tonight and I've been going on nothing but a Big Mac all day so I've got important business to take care of for now. Be good and stayed tuned for more ridiculousness.

Love & Respect,

Mike James

Had enough? Give Revolution a try!

After dreams of being a pop music sensation were crushed by a talent manager, Ackmed decided on a career as an murdering bastard was more suited for him.

"The world is watching". President Obama's words were spot on when he spoke about the fall out after the rigged Iranian election. I have been transfixed on the #Iranelection twitter feed for days. Or cursing and conspiring as to why CNN has failed so miserably to tell the story of the brave people of Iran who are fighting for freedom.

I would like to see the same thing in this country. Yes I said it. Revolution. I voted for President Obama and stand by him but I have absolutely zero faith in our government whatsoever. I do not believe the elections in 2000 or 2004 were legitimate. There's no way to tell if our last election was legit because there was no way we were putting an old white dude in the White House. End of story.

Democracy to Americans I feel is best represented in those magnetic ribbons people put on the back of their cars that say "support the troops".

It's easy to just slap that on your mini-van and call it being patriotic. It's not a lot of work. Lazy, fat and stupid that's how us Americans like it.

It's difficult to picture Americans taking it to the streets to demand equal rights for all, accountability and transparency of our politicians and re-instilling our Constitution into the framework of our country. However, since the invention of Tivo this has become more of a possibility because you can't protest if American Idol is on.

"People should not be afraid of their governments, governments should be afraid of their people."

I know what you are all saying now.

Oh hey! That's that quote from V for Vendetta! I love that movie man.

No. Actually it was a guy named Thomas Jefferson. He was the third president of our country and get this! The dude was nutso for revolution! Yea but you certainly weren't taught that in elementary school were you. You see back in the day those people with bad teeth on the other side of all that water were being really shitty to us when we were just getting going over here.

The Brits were all up in our shit so a whole bunch people said "fuck this!" and got together so they didn't have to put up with their shit no mo.

That's how we have to teach history to young America now so get used to it.

If you want to know something even crazier this Jefferson guy had a great idea to make sure all Americans had guns so the next time a tyrannical government got all up in their shit and all the people said "fuck this!" they wouldn't have to throw rocks.

Don't believe me?

"God forbid we should ever be twenty years without such a rebellion. The people cannot be all, and always, well informed. The part which is wrong will be discontented, in proportion to the importance of the facts they misconceive. If they remain quiet under such misconceptions, it is lethargy, the forerunner of death to the public liberty. ...

And what country can preserve its liberties, if it's rulers are not warned from time to time, that this people preserve the spirit of resistance? Let them take arms. The remedy is to set them right as to the facts, pardon and pacify them. What signify a few lives lost in a century or two? The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time, with the blood of patriots and tyrants. It is its natural manure."

Yea crazy ain't it? He thought the blood of politicians and militia men was the shit that kept this country so great! This dude was our pres, the head cheese and it would probably be safe to say that he had a feeling that the American Revolution would not be the first. I think he would be extremely disappointed to know that it was not only the first but the only one.

I will go back to humbly observe the fight for freedom and democracy in Iran. Those people are in my thoughts and prayers. They have my undying support but it is not my fight. This is my country for all its open sores, rotting flesh and putrid stench it's my country and I love every inch of it.

I'll love it even more when everyone finally says "fuck it!"

With Love & Respect,

Mike James

The Hilarity of Failure

Another failed suicide attempt. Jimmy then sought counseling.

There are times were I look at other people in awe of their own stupidity and complete ignorance to the world around them. Daily I see people waltzing through life like a sleepwalker lost in their own kitchen. It's risky waking sleepwalkers but then again some of them may need a good dose of on-set epilepsy if it will wake them the fuck up.

I don't want to come off as insensitive though. I simply have no sympathy for those who aren't willing to help themselves. It's a vicious cruel world full of leeches and vermin who are looking to infest every inch of peace and tranquility you have worked so hard for.

If you can't tell I'm still recovering from my numerous encounters with the violent cockroaches that occupied my kitchen. PTSD for crummy Hollywood studios I suppose. But all that is behind me now. I was once one of the sheep that bah incessantly and are easily corralled, then I turned 12 and decided it was time to grow up.

I've definitely never considered myself a bully but have never missed an opportunity to have a good laugh at someone else's expense. Since I am someone who is constantly offering comedic material for those around me to laugh at, most of it coming from my many epic fails, I figured I could share a couple of my favorite stories of huge fuck-ups & fails that I have witnessed.

Of course names have been changed to protect those involved but as usual I'll give you the details how I saw them, in all their insanely ridiculous but unbelievably factual glory.

"Deaf Or Just Dumb?"

I was in Canada a few years ago working on Parliament Hill. A simple google search of Canadian Parliament will give you hours of scandalous reading on controversy and shadiness. What drew me to Canadian politics was their transparency and attempt at accountability for their elected officials. It was no shock to me during my time on The Hill that Canada's politicians were just as morbidly corrupt as ours but that there wasn't a constant dependence on deceiving the public.

The irony that I find magnificent in this story is that it is a wonderful example of having the obvious right in your face yet completely ignoring it.

We want to believe that our elected officials have our best interests in heart when deep down inside you know they are running high dollar whores in and out the door as fast as you can say "bail out" and ripping rails of cocaine on G4's that would make Keith Richards look like a girl scout.

One night in Ottawa I went out drinking with some of our country's most elite students that are all aspiring politicians, ambassadors and heads of state. I was the only one out of the group that was working for the news network when everyone else was positioning for future political hook-ups. As if they weren't already privileged enough.

I've drank all around the world and with many different groups of people from all backgrounds and all ages. But I've never met such a specific type of person than the type of person that wants to either get into 1.) Law or 2.) Politics that has a more hellacious thirst for alcohol and craziness.

My closest friend during my stay in Canada told me within minutes of meeting him that he would be the governor of Alabama and one day be a Congressman in our Nation's Capitol. Then he pinched the ass of some unsuspecting girl walking past and asked me if I wanted to smoke a cigarette with him.

I said yes and could barely contain my excitement for meeting such a person.

The first couple of nights we would go out and drink we were just like kids on Christmas Eve excited to meet another person that was just as much a political junkie as the other. We got hammered and screamed at each other about foreign policy and other issues.

The third night we went out we finally had the nerdiness out of our system and began to talk to girls. I met a tall brunette from Michigan right off the bat and completely lost track of my friend. We will call him Al.

Al came up to me and said that he had met some girl that was going to take him back to her place. He pointed her out from across the bar and she waved her hands around in a very strange manner of a greeting. She was cute. I said that's awesome and we should all do some shots together. He agreed and said to wait there while he went to get her. He didn't come back.

After awhile the girl I was with asked about my friend I was with. I had completely forgotten about him and started searching the bar for him. No sign. I went outside. No sign.

After a full 10 minutes of looking for my friend the search & rescue efforts were exhausted and I suggested to the Michigan girl we continue the search on the way back to my room.

Fast forward to the next morning. I'm standing in the bathroom filling up a container of water, eyes clinched shut and head pressed up against the mirror in agony. Then Al burst through the bathroom door (shared bathrooms. we were living in the dormitories of University of Ottawa) wearing the same clothes he was the night before.

Al: Mike James!!!

Me: Al?! Where did you go? I looked for you forever?

Al: I went home with a chick with a speech impediment.

Me: What?

Al: At least I went home with her. I didn't wake up with her.

Me: That chick that waved at me? That's the last time I saw you.

Al: Yea that chick. But it didn't go so well dude.

Me: What happened?

Al: Well I had a hard time understanding what she was saying because of her speech impediment. It was really pissing me off because I hate asking people to repeat themselves.

Me: Wait a minute dude...

Al: Yea so I ordered those shots and you were all about that girl so I just took yours. I followed her out to smoke a cigarette after that.

Me: By any chance did you actually ask her if she wanted that cigarette....or ask her any questions for that matter?

Al: What? No. Your the fucking journalist with the questions. Jesus, you are all the same!

Me: Just go on dude...

Al: Well I walk back with her to her house and we are at her door. I go to kiss her and she starts talking all this gibberish again. Now I'm pissed.

Me: Oh please don't tell me....

Al: Oh no Mike James you would of been proud of me. I gave that cock tease a lesson for leading me on like that. I let her have it man. I gave her an ear full for every guy that has been toyed with like that. Then I stormed off and bought a pint of Canadian Mist. Woke up in front of an office building a few blocks away.

Me: This pains me to say but did you ever think that maybe she was deaf?

Al: As in a zombie?

Me: No, as in she can't hear.

Al: Ohhhhhhhh shit Mike James. I think you might be right.

FAIL.

"Job Interview"

I had a buddy in college, let's call him Carlos, who was an elementary education major. There was one big problem with his career choice. He hated kids. Despised kids. He loathed everything about kids and made it very apparent that his skin curdled at the smell of children.

Nonetheless he stuck with his choice and obviously had lots of trouble with it. He would be routinely reprimanded for swearing at his students and calling them names they hadn't even learned yet.

Can't say he didn't teach them anything I guess.

Anyway my buddy Carlos was a boozer and had a genuine love of specific pharmaceuticals. Truly a model influence on our youth. So, he decided one day the class room wasn't where he was making a difference. I then asked him what happened when you threw something up in the air. His answer hinted at the idea gravity so I recognized he was experiencing a moment of clarity.

He believed his calling was in a youth center. Coaching, helping and aiding youths in need. Warn them about going down the wrong path. It was touching really. Until he told me about his job interview with the Jewish Children's Refuge of Indianapolis.

He told it in great detail.

His interview he told me was a two-parter. First a series of standard questions with the supervisor to make sure you aren't a psycho and second was a physical test. My friend Carlos had recently decided to quit smoking cigarettes to go with his new focus on the children and was taking a medication that completely eliminated the want or need for nicotine but left very inconvenient side effects. One being that if the person taking the medication did any physical activity whatsoever one would thus become violently ill. I will emphasis violently ill as in projectile vomiting.

Carlos being a charming and good looking individual had no problem with the first part of the interview. They were completely sold they were about to hire a very Jewish, very wholesome young man that wanted to aid in the prospering of young minds.

Carlos had no idea the second part of the test was a life guard certification course and he would be required to swim many laps in the pool very fast. He hadn't anticipated having to reveal the many tattoos that covered his body. One of which was a big black Gothic cross on his chest. This is something that is not exactly common among Jewish people so you wouldn't be surprised to hear that this nice old Rabi that was timing him was pretty upset when Carlos took off his shirt.

75 timed laps would be hard for anyone to do. It would be impossible to do if you were being eye balled by many sets of disapproving parents, hung over, on a certain medication that warned of projectile vomiting if taken under any physical activity and most importantly if you've never met angry Rabi or a happy Rabi for that matter.

On the second lap of Carlo's swim test he began to puke. Kids with floaties around their arms cried and stretched their little arms to their parents while my friends' yack floated down stream. A panic ensued and it only worsened when he fell getting out of the pool and busted his head open running to a trash can. Blood spewed down his tattooed and offensively scrawny frame.

He explained to me with tears in his eyes, of laughter not remorse mind you, how the Rabi told him to sit there and bleed and puke in the trash can while they taped the contaminated area off, evacuated the people inside and told Carlos to get the fuck out of their youth center as soon as the lands keeper was able to stretch a hose around to the pool.

As far as I know Carlos no longer works with children.

FAIL.

I'll return with more stories this week.

"Experience is simply the name we give our mistakes." -Oscar Wilde

With Love & Respect,

Mike James

Victory in Silverlake

Uncle Leroy's best birthday ever quickly changed when everyone told him it was a fake lottery ticket. We're sorry Uncle Leroy. 

They say a picture says a thousand words. I could leave you with that and the picture of this gentleman to describe how it feels to finally be done moving and getting settled in to my new spot but then you wouldn't be able to enjoy the comedic value of the hell that is moving. 

Anyone that has moved before would agree they would gladly take a prostate exam before having to move their crap somewhere else. Which is ironic because considering how uncomfortable a prostate exam at least your shit stays put and its over soon. 

I have finally settled in kicked my feet back and exhaled in my new quaint apartment nestled into corner of the city that feels like a place called home. My view now is of the Silverlake hills dotted by expensive boxes topped with stucco instead of another building a few feet away and  only a fourth of a visible tree. 

No doubt this is a major upgrade. I feel like a conquering warrior to go from where I was to where I am now. Specifically where I am at is my bedroom. Yup, I got a bedroom. It's another place to go besides the other rooms at my place. Wow, OTHER ROOMS. 

Like everything in California the real estate market is strange. I met a couple renters that were rather aggressive in their questioning about my qualifications. One guy that showed me a place in Burbank looked and sounded exactly like a skinnier more health conscious version of The Comic Book guy on The Simpsons.

Picture this but keep in mind I'm also twenty minutes late. 

Me: I'm so sorry dude I was downtown and the 101 is a fucking parking lot. 

Comic Book Guy: You said you would be twenty minutes late. 

Me: Ah yea I rounded it down. I've been a bunch of places today and I'm not the best multi-tasker. 

Comic Book Guy: What intersection where you at downtown?

(This is the first lie Comic Book catches me in but not the last before this visit is finished.)

Me: I was at um...3rd and 4th. 

(I was actually in Hollywood standing in line at the Kogi BBQ truck. I seriously would do terrible things for an endless supply of their short ribs.)

Comic Book Guy: That just doesn't make any sense those streets run parallel with one another. Did you mean or instead of and?

Me: Either. I mean it was  3rd st...ish. 

Comic Book Guy: Well let's go inside so I can show you the unit before you waste any more of my time. 

We go inside. 

Comic Book Guy: As you can see their is new carpeting downstairs and it's all wood upstairs. If you must paint the walls I suggest only painting upstairs unless you think you can avoid getting any paint on the newly installed carpet in this particular unit. 

Me: No dude it's cool. That shade of green matches my bong beautifully. 

(The scowl that was in development when I walked up has now blossomed into a full fledged V on his forehead.)

Comic Book Guy: There will be no DRUUUUUUGS on the premises. 

Me: I just joking with you. 

Comic Book Guy: Tell me what it is that you do please. 

Me: You probably wouldn't think it's very funny if I told you I was an out of work comedian would you?

Comic Book Guy: Not one bit. 

Me: Fine. I'm a non-sexual male escort. So how's the parking? 

Comic Book Guy: Do you think you are funny or something I've had a lot of trouble in the past with young people that is why I have to ask these questions. I need to know you will not be a disturbance. 

Me: Trust me sir I'm as quiet as they come. I mean I don't look like someone who enjoys loud music, jokes and pot do I?

So Burbank is lame anyway why would I want to live there? When I finally found this place it was obvious that this would be where I planted roots. 

A Roadman for The Lords of Karma has to always be ready to move. You never know when duty will call and where it will beckon from. I've lived many different places in my 23 years, some of them longer than others but each place I have stayed no manner for how long each experience shares a common thread. Packing up and leaving. It sucks. Not always because you totally over packed, over slept and running late but sometimes it because you have to leave. 

As I was sweeping my empty studio in Hollywood I thought about all the places over the last few years that I've left and how even though I loved where I was at during the time I was there I was so anxious and excited to move on to something else, something new. 

Then I saw this gigantic dust ball that had collected behind my computer desk. I mean this thing was massive. I thought if I believed in Voodoo magic I could form a dust ball doll with it by tying it together with twine and have some sort of black magic control over apartment 303. Then I realized that was ridiculous and went back to thinking deep thoughts. 

Several years ago Italy was difficult to leave. Mainly because there was ice on the run way that delayed our plane 45 minutes but also because of it being the first time I had ventured out to find a life changing experience and had found it. 

That's life. Sometimes you stay sometimes you go. I've been doing a lot of going lately (Editor's Note: Mike has already used up his one prostate joke for this issue. The following joke has been altered. Thank you.) I think I'll stay here for awhile. 

With Love & Respect, 

Mike James