Club Cubano Del Valle San Gabriel ~ 10960 Lower Azusa Rd. ~ El Monte

Club Cubano Del Valle San Gabriel 35th Anniversary Celebration

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Villa, one of those Hollywood fleece joints where they let celebrities in free and get dumb rich dudes to plunk down major silver for the privilege to feel privileged, shot down one of LA’s greatest residents at the door last night. The assholes at the door either didn’t recognize our didn’t realize that Ronny Turiaf is the heart and soul of our town’s greatest team. In any case, Ronny’s too good for ‘em anyway.

The Good Foot is one of those clubs, like Make-Up and Root Down (back when it was at Gabah) before it and Dub Club now, that is such a clusterfuck of LA ideas and ideals that it goes beyond any concept of nightclubbing and ventures into the realm of a family reunion - if you had really cool, really diverse relatives. DJ Dennis is a master of wax, and the last time I saw him spin he went from !!! to James Brown to Outkast and no one flinched. Too often with funk and soul nights the concept of both the deejays and dancers is disgustingly myopic, and the focus is on the clothes or the scooters or whatever genre the DJ should be spinning; I was at a bar in San Francisco a couple of summers ago when a mod stormed out of the club because they were playing too wide an array of sounds, but before he split he shouted in frustration “I thought this was a Northern Soul club!” At the Good Foot, the crowd is mixed with Bong Leach locals and people crusing down the 710, packed with punks and greasers, cholos and drunks, mods and rockers.

Recently I’ve been listening to a lot of the albums put out by the Numero Group, who are suddenly vying with Soul Jazz as the preeminent reissue label, but it’s “Cult Cargo: Belize City Boil Up” that’s been getting the most play. The mix of calypso, funk, rock, reggae and disco is beautiful to hear, sometimes in the same song, and while I haven’t heard of these tracks being spun at the Good Foot, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were. Check out Lord Rhaburn’s “Disco Connection,” watch a clip of James Brown, and then meet me at Que Sera tonight, and try to find a way not to feel the funk.

Download: Disco Connection mp3

The Airliner ~ 2419 N. Broadway Lincoln Heights, CA 90031 ~ (323) 221-0771

(Located between Daly St and Avenue 24 on the north side of Broadway)

Getting lost in and around Lincoln Heights on my way to The Airliner is all part of the fun for me. Driving confusedly up and down Pasadena Blvd, from Avenues 21 to 28, on the phone with friends and friends’ boyfriends to announce that I have no idea where I am, only to realize that I’ve driven past the place twice already. There’s meters up and down the side streets and a parking lot in back of the building, but on busier nights you may need to circle the block once or twice, depending on how late you arrive.

Have your ID cocked and loaded, but ladies best leave your Mace, blades, and/or brass knuckles at home; your bags will be searched. Same goes for men, minus the purse check…..unless you are the man-purse carrying type perhaps? It’s a mild comfort knowing the staff has the patrons’ backs, if only in the dark confines of the club. The entire staff here is friendly and very helpful, especially the bartenders. This in mind, Luis, an owner, and “Nice Guy” Sharky, a manager, keep this bar pouring out the fun, be it in drink form or just good conversation, on top of all the hard work they put in each night. They have both made more than a couple of my evenings at The Airliner that much more fun by hanging out.

The Airliner has a large bar upon entering and a smaller bar on the second floor - 10,000 extra points for that. They also have 3 (count them, 3!) stages and a huge smoking patio out back, with an additional smaller smokers’ balcony right off the 2nd floor bar. Speaking of said 2nd floor - they rock dub on a pretty good-sized dance floor for when the mood strikes. And it usually does. Need food? They serve that too! Bar food with a self-described Southwestern flair. And yeah, you bet your sweet behind tacos are on that menu.

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You know how it goes sometimes, mates…some days you’re scraping the bottom of the peanut butter jar just to keep standing, other days the phone rings and next thing you know you’re cramming as many caviar-topped blinis and purple cocktails into your gullet as is humanly possible before trodding home. So was the scene for me last week at the recent Jovovich-Hawk fashion show at Stoli Hotel, sponsored by Gen Art as part of their Fresh Faces in Fashion program.

Gen Art is the nation’s leading arts and entertainment organization dedicated to showcasing the best emerging talent in film, fashion, art, and music. I recommend joining on some level for access to their hottie-stuffed parties, entry to film screenings, fashion shows, and first-hand looks at big exhibits through the city. Gen Art has brought TACO to private viewings of the Skin + Bones exhibit at Museum of Contemporary Art and an early look at the film Marie Antoinette, among many other cool and different art events that I am having trouble remembering right now.

But back to the hot stuff! Gen Art parties are always covered in good-looking folks. And never was this more true at last week’s bash at Stoli Hotel, a temporary club on Ivar sponsored by Stoli Vodka that will, like the circus, uproot and relocate after 40 days. The Stoli Hotel reminds me of the ice-hotel, without freezing the ole buttski off, with clean white walls, a clear bar lined with chilled bottles of the namesake vodka, light projections as curtains, nice nooks and crannies for canoodling, and a breezy outdoor space for smoking and the like. Plus, an army of Slavic studs and chicas serving the aforementioned cocktails and crudites.

The fashion show itself was filled with hot female models showing off those blossomy dresses that trendy girls are into nowadays with a 1960’s twist, designed by actress/singer/model Milla Jovovich and Carmen Hawk with attention to comfort, elegance, and subtlety. I took much delight in watching some of the more fresh-off-the-boat Slavic beauties awkwardly twisting in the spotlight, while the more experienced ones, like this gorgeous Jessica-Alba-esque one above made my heart flutter. I met Milla Jovovich and she was really nice. Go Gen Art! You make my half-Slavic heart swell with pride and Pani Jessica Alba-nski, thanks for your own efforts towards making things swell.

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11334 Burbank Blvd. ~ North Hollywood, CA 91601 ~ (818) 506-6353 (TACO Map)

It’s pretty friggin’ hard for an art-space or club to upstage a freak show, but CIA (California Institute of Abnormal Arts) did just that when the 999 Eyes Sideshow came to the venue last Friday night. 999 Eyes is a lot of fun, full of enthusiasm, haunting Gothic blues, corny jokes, plus occasional thrills and chills, but it needs to load up on more and stranger freaks, and add a fine polish to its shows. The posters promised a slew of skewed bodies that never materialized and frankly, we see more freaks and human horrors on one block of Hollywood Blvd. or 4th St. on Skid Row.

CIA is jam-packed to the rafters with curios and oddities. Floor tiles and walls bear skulls and wide, high-colored pinstripes, displays are formed from siamese twins and mer-men in jars, shrunken heads, abnormal brains, circus signage, fucked up doll-heads, man-eating monsters, decaying body parts y mucho mas, while pirates, mad scientists, and cut-throat clowns lurk around every corner. There is a wild bar also covered in death imagery and freaky-ness, as well as a garden with screens showing warped clips of shitty sci-fi and horror films and video projects that resemble the worst mescaline trips, dotted with occasional performances from Tom Jones and Gary Glitter mainlined into the mix for fun. Among the space’s greatest treasures are the skull of the smallest freemason, the preserved body of a ‘fairie’ from England, and most impressively and creepily, the hermetically-sealed corpse of a failed U.S. clown leased by the owners, still in greasepaint and a shiner’s cap.
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Friday Nights

6510 Santa Monica Blvd. ~ Hollywood, CA. ~ 323-466-6111

Miss Kitty’s is a drag ball extravaganza that protects the queer identities of its patrons and performers. Thus, I snuck my camera inside tightly against my giney. Stepping into my cowboy boots and wearing baggy jeans, I pretended I was simply stuffing. For all of you straight girls, “stuffing” doesn’t mean what it once did in middle school. Stuffing is when you put a sock, or any other tubular object, not in your bra, but instead in your you know where. That’s because you want to appear to have a bulge. Fun, huh? Mine was a little on the small side, I have to say. But boys are girls and girls are boys, and it’s one big gender-bending love fest on a Friday night at Dragonfly. So whether your package is big or small, fake or real, enhanced or tucked in between your legs under a mini skirt, you’re bound to have a jolly ol’ time at Miss Kitty’s.

Part of the great fun at Miss Kitty’s is that anything goes—even heterosexuals. Straight males are detectable, because they aim for packs of lipstick lesbians and bi-curious babes. Often enough, they fail. But they are still there, and there are those with high success rates as well. Don’t ask me why. My favorite part about going to drag balls are the bois. Why would I go to a drag ball for “real” guys? Honestly, where else am I going to find a concentration of female-to-male transgendered dudes with taped back tits and undeniably seductive dance moves? It’s the best of both worlds from a suitor—soft skin and free drinks. As far as the male to female trannies, well, they wear big platform shoes and have killer legs. I envy those them.

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La Azteca Boxing Club ~ 3817 Gage Ave. ~ Bell ~ 323 560-1081

“I feel very comfortable going to Japan and basically it’s me putting in the work with me and my opponent in the ring,” said Castillo through Ricky Mota at the Azteca Boxing Club in Bell, California, in one of his last workouts in the States before going overseas.

“I see it like nobody is there, just me and the opponent.”

10937 Burbank Blvd. @ Craner Ave. ~ North Hollywood, CA 91601 ~ (818) 760-9798 (TACO Map)

Rather than hit up a movie for more than twice the price, I recommend visiting Rawhide on a lazy Sunday afternoon in North Hollywood. At 3:30PM every Sunday there are country line dance lessons offered. Yes, even on the Sunday when Sunset Junction was going down over in Silver Lake. In addition to dance lessons, with a $5 cover you are given two tickets for free drinks or the option of opening a beer or soda “bust” with said tickets. This means that with an additional $4, you get the unlimited beer or soda of your choice.

The Texas-twanged bartender then says ‘Here ya’ go‘ and hands you a black Sharpie with a nifty little plastic cup for refills. There are also small green buckets filled with fresh popcorn stationed on top of barrels throughout the bar. These become hot spots for bumping hands with cute boys in farmhand outfits. As for other meeting points, the outdoor patio is a good place for Marlboro Men-type cowboy smokers as well as Marlboro Men fans, too…

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