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Monday, July 30, 2007

"Stars" Over LA


I think I've finally figured out what is wrong with my home town, Los Angeles. Most people complain that there are too many illegal aliens. I respectfully disagree. LA's problem is too many celebrities.

In a recent essay, I described the "crime spree" by socialite, Paris Hilton. Since she served her "hard time" in the LA County Jail, she has more or less kept a low profile-except of course for her appearance on the "Larry King on Life Support" show. Meanwhile, her pal, Nicole Ritchie, has just pleaded guily to DUI and been sentenced to a few days in "Sheriff to the Stars", Lee Baca's guest house. (It took me about three years to figure out who Paris Hilton was. Now I have to educate myself on Nicole Ritchie. I have no clue who she is, but she's famous.)

Then there is the latest "Trial of the Century", the murder trial of music producer, Phil Spector. If you have a good memory, perhaps you recall the night four years ago, when he was arrested for the murder of actress, Lana Clarkson in his home. Well, the trial finally started, and Spector (or I should say his lawyer) is claiming that the lady shot herself in spite of the testimony of Spector's driver that the producer came out of the house and said,"I think I've killed someone."
However, since the driver is Brazilian, the lawyer is trying to convince the jury that he doesn't speak English well enough. Actually, Spector really said,"To know him is to love him." Yeah, that's the ticket. The foreigner just misunderstood.

Remember Henry Lee, the hired-gun criminalist who helped OJ Simpson get off? Well, he has resurfaced, sort of. Lee has hired himself out to Spector's defense team. During a defense inspection tour of the Spector home, Lee reportedly picked up something from the floor (speculated to be a piece of the victim's fingernail), which has not been seen since. Lee recently went to China. Maybe he is still there. Maybe he will stay there rather than explain his actions in court.

Then, just a few days ago, a member of LA's royalty-that's right-we have royalty in America, none other than Prince Friedrich von Anhalt, 9th husband of Zsa Zsa Gabor and pretender to the fatherhood of Anna Nicole Smth's baby girl, wound up on the police blotter. Discovered by police naked on the streets of LA, Prince Friedrich claimed that he had been waylaid (no pun intended) by three mysterious ladies who pretended to ask him for his autograph!!??! Happy to oblige his adoring fans, the prince suddenly found himself being kidnapped and stripped naked by the ladies, who allegedly handcuffed him to the steering wheel of his car. Do I have that right, Prince? Anyway, the cops have no clue as to who these ladies are and no handcuffs were recovered. The intensive mahunt is on-going. Stay tuned for further developments.

Meanwhile, LA's mayor, Tony Villar, er....Villaraigosa, is continuing his PR tour of public appearances to show he is still involved in the day to day operation of the city. Yet, each time his honor dedicates a new manhole cover, the questions about his Telemundo reporter paramour, Mirthala Salinas, persist. In his latest declaration on the affair, Villaraigosa expressed his confidence that the internal Telemundo investigation would exonerate Salinas from any charges of unprofessional conduct!!??! OK, I guess, as they say, it's time to move on.

Meanwhile, Rocky Delgadillo, the City Attorney, continues to hang tough in spite of his scandals involving misappropriation of government vehicles and government employees for personal use. Rumors arose recently that City Councilman, Jack Weiss was poised to take over as City Attorney. Who is Jack Weiss, you ask? ......... You don't want to know.

So let's move on to the mother of all current scandals-Lindsey Lohan. (I'm just learning who she is too-I don't care much about Hollywood.) You know, back in 1966, I was going through US Army MP School at Ft Gordon, Ga. We had an instructor (a sergeant) who taught our traffic accident investigation courses. This guy should have been a stand up comedian because he kept us in stitches. His central theme centered around "Crash" Corrigan, a mythical driver who got into an accident every time he got behind the wheel. In one story, Granny Skaggs was driving to the store when she crossed an intersection and got creamed by "Crash" Corrigan on his way home from the hospital. I mention this because Ms Lohan's misadventures behind the wheel bring back funny memories about Mr Corrigan.

According to "reports", Lohan was attending a Malibu party and invited a friend-who invited a couple of other friends-who were sitting in the car in the driveway because (according to the reports) that was as far as they could get to the house where all the "stars" were partying. Lohan, meanwhile, was reportedly getting pretty well oiled inside and proceeded to get into a shouting match with her "assistant" who promptly quit her assistantship and left the party. Lohan then, reportedly, (Hey-I don't want to get sued.) commandeered the car where the friends of the friend were sitting and tore off down Pacific Coast Highway in pursuit of the ex-assistant at speeds of about 100 mph-according to the friends of the friend, who were still unwitting passengers. According to their testimony, they begged her to slow down, whereupon Lohan reportedly answered to the effect that she was a F......... celebrity and nothing was going to happen to her. Eventually losing her target in the chase, Lohan then proceeded to the assistant's mother's house, arriving just as the mother was arriving. Lohan behold, another high-speed chase ensued through the streets of Santa Monica, "Crash Corrigan" in hot pursuit of Granny Skaggs. Somewhere along the way, one of the terrified passengers, jumped out of the car only to get his foot run over by Lohan. Meanwhile, the terrified mother was on her cell phone to the police screaming for help. Finally, Lohan was cornered by Santa Monica Police in the parking lot of the Santa Monica Civic Center. At this point, the f.............celebrity told police that she wasn't driving the car, that "it was the black guy" (one of the passengers). What's more, police found a baggie of cocaine in her pants pocket, which Lohan still insists wasn't hers. But, Lindsey, wasn't the cocaine in your pants pocket? How is this for an ironclad alibi?--- "I was wearing someone else's pants!" If the pants don't fit.........Case dismissed!

So now the local media is all abuzz that Ms Lohan is next in line to enjoy the hospitality of Sheriff Baca. Then, when she gets out, she can do the boo hoo hoo routine on "Larry King on Life Support". At least the stupid shows like Access Hollywood with their boot-licking sycophant announcers like Pat O'Brien can keep their gigs a while longer. Me, I just wish Hollywood would pack up the whole operation and move the movie capital to Peoria. Access Peoria-How does that sound?

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