Ohhh god, the day Michael Jackson died was quite possibly the most crazy adventurous day of my life. We spent the afternoon in Malibu messing up the sand in front of Jennifer Anniston's beach house (she actually rakes her sand so it's smooth, retarded) and driving around west Hollywood blasting Michael Jackson's top hits out the Jeep Wrangler. We actually pulled over into some random burger joint, put on our leather jackets, and danced for a good half an hour. We were hoping we'd get a bunch of other people to hop on the bandwagon, but no dice.
At night, we ventured out onto Hollywood blvd. to H-Wood, some night club, whatever, and had some time to kill before our little "escort" got there so we started star-searching for MJ. APPARENTLY the BET awards was taking place the next day, so Bruno-sponsored crap was all over and blocked the Michael Jackson star. Howeverrrr, they had a memorial across the street where people had lit candles and all that cutesie dead person stuff. There was a huge group of people blasting MJ music and parading up and down the street dancing.
H-Wood was alright. I guess it was schoolgirl night and I met a couple of people who wanted their picture taken thinking I was the club photographer. I wasn't. There was a rigged schoolgirl contest that sucked, but they started playing a line-up of Michael Jackson so we stayed and danced for a while. Jen jumped on stage with the go-go dancer chicks and rocked the MJ moves. Great night.