About a month ago I wrote an article about my failed attempt to get baked like a cake while experiencing the magic that takes place on one of Hollywood’s several TMZ themed tours. Looking back at my younger, more naive self I can understand why I was banned and honestly, I’m fine with it, or at least I was until a friend of mine contacted me this week with an idea so obvious I was almost annoyed that I hadn’t come up with it myself.
Doug and I have been successfully crashing parties, events, and open bar tabs together for longer than I care to remember so when he told me his plans for me to get my revenge on Harvey Levin I knew it would work. All I had to do was get to Tinseltown, get stonier than a geologist, and not make any threatening remarks about John Mayer. All of this sounds easy in theory, but for some reason I historically find it difficult to stay out of trouble.
We started off our day long journey on yet another one of LA’s famous urine soaked platforms while the metro rail slowly crawled towards our destination. The first thing my travel compatriot and I noticed was the immense amount of police patrolling every car, they say that having a police presence makes people feel safe but I can promise you that the euphoric bliss I was currently experiencing was cut short with an overwhelming sense of oncoming danger. Was there a bomb threat, was this an exercise, or did Harvey and Mayer know we were coming? All of these scenarios flashed through my head while I managed to deliver a meek wave to the officer that was probably starting to wonder why I was so sweaty.
Before I could even ask Doug about the terrible feeling I had in my gut about our future he had already started to explain his, “I feel like this is a bad omen”. I agreed, but we carried on nonetheless and that’s when our day, and attitudes changed for the better. As the Hashberry strain from my Pax pen courtesy of Island Cannabis slowly made its way from my lungs into the core of my brain I felt relief. The sun was shining, it was early enough in the day that Hollywood blvd was quiet and cleaner than normal, and there was a surprising lack of tourists lining the usually busy streets. In other words, it was a perfect day in Los Angeles and we had only green lights ahead of us.
As we stopped for a quick beer before making our way toward the heart of H-wood we came upon a man named Steven. Steven served as a sort of street side marketing director for Star Line Tours and, by his on accounts, a part time bad actor. When he stopped us on the street to offer us a seat on his illustrious double decker tour bus we were a bit apprehensive, but after letting it slip that we were not tourists- just weirdos that lived nearby, he sold us two tickets for the low price of $20. For anyone keeping track at home that’s about a 420% discount from the usual price gouging that you normally experience while on vacation.
We stepped on to the bus and amazingly, it too was pretty much empty, continuing our day long tradition of everything working out splendid for us. We climbed the stairs to the top floor and I lit up a gram of California’s finest flowers and basked in the SoCal sun while thinking about how stupid John Mayer looks while he wiggles his obnoxious face around on stage. We set off towards Beverly Hills and I couldn’t help but feel like an older, more refined version of Ferris Bueller, using the entire city as my personal playground and forcing people to worry about my well being.
Once we had our fill of every avenue, boulevard, and star-studded estates that make up most of the west side we departed from our chariot and made our way to Nat’n Al Beverly Delicatessen, which has been serving their own delicious plates since 1945. We opted for the New York sandwich which consists of pastrami, coleslaw, and Russian dressing on double baked rye bread. There’s few things in life that make me want to consider going to any sort of religious gathering but if they’re serving this at temple then you can call me Efrayim.
All things considered I would gladly trade a lifetime ban from even hearing about TMZ if it means I get to ride on a deserted double decker bus in 80 degree weather through the streets of LA, so long as I get to stop at my new favorite sandwich shop in the entire city. I would also like to thank Island Cannabis for always making concentrates that taste as good as they make you feel. Happy Smoking!
414 N Beverly Dr
Beverly Hills, CA 90210
Jefferson Matthew VanBilliard is a leo that enjoys all things cannabis and is just trying his best. He let us know that although the desert will always be his home you can find him on Fourth St. in Santa Ana battle rapping teenagers or at the local high school where he coaches girls varsity volleyball without anyone’s permission.