I watched the academy awards last night with a billion or two of my closest friends. Wow, the red carpet, the plunging necklines, the diamonds and dirt.

The myth of celebrity, the adoring crowds, and me on the couch sucking it up like the other rotund idolaters who weigh on the globe.

Ridiculously strong, that allure. Impossible to resist. Terrible to embrace.

When does it begin?

I took this photo along the Redondo Beach Strand last Sunday morning where homes are a paltry $10-15 million for a postage stamp lot. This power couple was out for a morning parade in their Mercedes G-Class AMG.


This doll-baby seems a bit miffed that I’m the only photographer out here to capture her. Where the hell is her press agent! It’s his damn job to handle these moments in the public eye. Doesn’t anyone realize how hard it is to keep up her oh-so-bored look that settles just side of venomous?

Her simple black top and pajama leggings certainly make the California Casual statement she’s been trying out on her new cable reality show, and her tousled hair and Gucci sunglasses accent it all so regally.

He new boytoy is probably regretting his decision to go with the floppy hat, but it did match his shirt so well in the full-length mirror. At least the car says Macho Cool. Doesn’t it? Or should he have driven the Ferrari? Deicsions, decisions…

Ah what hell, why worry? The sky is blue, the water is blue, the bank account is green.

The glamorous future beckons.



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