Friday, August 21, 2009

Of Sad Sidewalks and Hellacious Handprints

The last time we were in California, the Dukes were wee, adorable little tikes, content to have their personal bankers/parents buy into the money-grabbing whore known as Disneyland, and its equally commercialized slutty siblings, the San Diego Zoo and Sea World.

Now 10 years older and infinitely wiser (and still adorable, said their non-biased mother), their roster of holiday activities must equal their refined palate of all things cool and au courant.

After arranging for a remortgaging of our home and the signing of a promisary note for highly-valued black market internal organs, we valet-parked our vehicle here:

and proceeded to the most important section of Hollywood's Walk of Fame:


I'm not even sure if this is the correct Michael Jackson, but I certainly was not about to address this possibility to the avid zealots milling around. They looked reasonably tough (and more than a few could potentially have been armed). They're sensitive, not stupid.

After a perfunctory donning of our sparkle gloves and moonwalking, we continued on to Mann's Theatre, where we browsed around through the hand & footprints of the stars.

Some random observations:

. George Burn's cement square not only has his hand and foot prints, but also (what I'm hoping was) his cigar.
. The Star Trek square had all the TV show's stars - nothing creative, except of course for Leonard Nimoy's handprint - done as the Vulcan greeting - I love it when people think beyond the normal.
. John Wayne's footprints? Not so big. Surprising.
. Mel Gibson's footprints - huge. Disappointing.

And then?

I saw it.

The clouds parted; rays of sunshine were cast down upon one particular square; angels sang; Baronesses gasped.

"GET.THE. CAMERA!!!!!!!!!!!", I squawked.

This would be a photo op that would win me legions of bloggy fans - inspired by Nimoy, it was now me that was thinking out of the box. Ha hah!

I knelt. I put my hands down into his handprints, all ready to lower my quavering bosom into the impression that would lovingly cup my boobies like an expensive La Perla bra.

Did I mention that the afore-mentioned "parting of the clouds" is actually a hole in the ozone layer directly over Mann's Chinese Theatre, which turns a normal 95 degrees Farenheit day into about 3125 degrees?

"Holy shit! This is really, really hot!"

Said the ever-patient Baron, "Yes, dear (eyes rolling). We all know how you feel about Clooney..."

"No", I minced, "I mean - the pavement is really, really hot!"

Sighing. More eye-rolling. "So are we taking the boob shot or not?"

"I will singe my nurples right off if I go any lower - this is low as I can go"

"Fine. Whatever."


"Done. Let's go."

And off we tromped - we were due to pick up our car, as we had reached our 1 hour/4 kidney/2 liver limit.

George? Honey?

Sorry, baby. We'll just have to do this some other time.

If we wait another ten years, I won't even have to kneel anymore...


Cormac Brown said...

And Baron willingly took pictures without turning green? Good for him!

Cormac Brown said...

BTW, the sidewalk may have been too hot, but you look ecstatic in the picture.

Grandma J said...

You look happier than any tourist I've seen in So CA. I'm so glad you found your fav star.

baronessvonb said...

Count Cormac: The Baron is so indulgent, it's almost embarrassing.

Mental note for me - work on better camera expressions - I was actually in pain from roasting my palms.

Countess Grandma: Oh, I didn't just find him - I hunt him down. RAWR!!

Daryl said...

Trust me LaPerla isnt so cuppy perfect .. George however .. now there's cupping .. erm ... I am fondling of .. I am fond of George .. Kate's dog know

Word Verif: quous .. French verb ... as in: Je quous pas

Ann Marie said...

great shot!!!! too fun!

Meg @ Soup Is Not A Finger Food said...

Your own personal Mecca!

baronessvonb said...

Countess Daryl: Considering you are La Fashionista de NYC, I'm gonna take your word on La Perla.

Countess Ann Marie: It was very fun. More so with both of my grown sons egging me on. We are so whacked...

Countess Meg: I'm thinking that the stalking on Lake Como might be much more pleasant. And the food's better.

Fireblossom said...

Darling, I've heard of bosoms being set aflame, but not so as the fire department has to get involved. Still. Firefighters. Doctors. Enormous out of court settlements. I am seeing possiblitoes all the same!

Now then, about this unfortunate business of your children's being dukes. So awkward when one's children outrank one. Of course, in America, everyone is equal, aren't they? *titter*

I have come here through our friend, the Fashionista. I saw this on her blogroll and thought, I must go see. Now have seen. I think that, for the rest of the day, people will be clamoring to touch the hem of my garment, for the reflected glory.

big hair envy said...

I think you should have just sacrificed those nips right then and there!!! I would have done it for Mel Gibson....big feet and all;)

Country Girl said...

Hot damn! And I mean that literally. What a fun post!!

Especially loved your random observations, especially Mel Gibson's shoes!

Audrey at Barking Mad! said...


I'm laughing far too hard to leave a coherent comment. Your last couple of sentences have me in fits of much so that I scared the cats away. All FOUR of them!

Chesapeake Bay Woman said...



Baroness von Bloggenschtern said...

Countess Fireblossom: Did someone say 'settlement'? Now you are talking my language, missy!

As for the heirs' rankings, I really did not do a lot of investigating regarding hierchy and such; if I have erred, please forgive the assault to your sensibilities. In Canada, not everyone is equal, and certainly my HRH's deign themselves to be a the top of the pile.

Countess BHE: Oh, really? Then I guess he could have called you "Caramel T*ts" (hot sugar = caramel?)

Countess CountryGirl: Oh, you are too too funny!

Countess CBW: 'Nipples' is just so, I don't know - out there.

You know?

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