Because how do you NOT try the garlic ice cream?

If there is one thing I can say about my group of friends it is this: we eat DAMN well. We've taken to trying new restaurants and this Sunday was no exception. Ladies and gentlemen, The Stinking Rose!

Our reason for going was twofold.

1) We needed to celebrate Denny's promotion. Blog Shout Out: Congrats Denny!

2) We needed to try this restaurant.

The Stinking Rose is a restaurant dedicated to garlic. I love garlic, so naturally this is a match made in heaven. We had no idea if we'd need reservations and so Mikey called and we got their voicemail which sounded like it was narrated by this guy:

I'm already in love with it (and we didn't need reservations). So Denny, Mikey, Amy, Jackie, Caroline, Daniel and I climb around a table and stare at the menu.

Garlic Wine.

40 Glove of Garlic Chicken.

Surf and Turf (All garlic enhanced, of course).

Garlic Encrusted Baby Back Ribs.

Garlic Rolls.

Garlic Ice Cream.

Holy friggin' crap. This is awesome. Our poor waitress, not only was her name Agnes, but she told us about how she cannot get the smell of garlic out of her hair. Now, I love garlic as much as the next guy, but its not exactly a scent you want for yourself. The price you pay to work with delicious food, I suppose.

We pussed out when it came to the garlic wine, so we made sure we hit up the garlic ice cream. Do NOT- I repeat, DO NOT- get it. The consensus was WHAT THE FUCK ARE WE EATING?!

The surf and turf was delicious (and it was amusing watching Denny and Amy trying to get the crab out of the shell).

And the decor is lots of fun (just not as fun as the garlic hat they make the poor host wear). Will I be back? Sure. It's an event place though- not so much a place you could just.... go.

We all went home and brushed our teeth and took showers. It was coming out of my pores, I swear it.

Definitely hit the place up if you have a taste for garlic (and lets be honest, who doesn't?) and a fun group to smell really bad with.

Willy Wonka and the Hollywood Forever Cemetery

"It's the most fun I've had in L.A."

That's what I'd heard. Of course I'm going to go in slightly skeptical and full of the highest hopes. I'd been pumped up to believe that evening movie screenings in the Hollywood Forever Cemetery were not only great, but a quintessential part of the Los Angeles experience.

I can now stand behind everything I'd heard and assure you that it is absolutely, 100%, positively true. If you get one Saturday in LA during the summer, and only one, this better be what's on your list to do.

Screenings in the cemetery are a fantastic way to spend a summer evening. Sure it sounds creepy (and it a little bit is) but as Megan put it as we were gallivanting through the gravestones - "It's kind of cool to be here and be really a live. You know? We're living in the moment with friends. we're not here for death. We're here for life." I might have paraphrased a bit - but that's the gist of what she was drunkenly rambling on about after the movie.

Yes, I said drunkenly. You see, it's not "public" in there so drinking.... TOTALLY ALLOWED.

Several bottle of wine, a shit-ton of snack, two bags of candy and a sushi platter later - we have a successful, drunk picnic in the cemetery for last night's movie: Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. (No not the shitty one - the good one.)

Gates open at 7, so Nora, Kate, Mikey, Megan and I got there at about 5:30 to get in line. Kevin and Alex and Ashley soon joined us. Followed by Janove and Julie and Jordan. What a crowd! Apples to Apples passed the time (Kate and I are kindred Apples to Apples spirits)...and so did the wine. I was hammered before I even got through the gates into the cemetery.

500+ people crowded onto the lawn for one of the greatest cult movies ever. There was yelling. There was singing. There were snarky remarks. There was quotes. There was so much candy.

It was a ton of fun- but admittedly would have been less so had it not been for the amazing weather, great friends, and campy, fun movie.

Tommy Curry @ The Pig n' Whistle and the Great Apartment Hunt of 2010

This weekend started out at 8PM at the Pig n' Whistle on Hollywood Blvd. My friend Tommy Curry (check him out here).

After a wonderfully folksy set, a few drinks and plenty of back and forth with the enthusiastic audience of about 25, Tommy played his last song (which was featured in his sister's short film) and called it a night.

Mikey and I, however, did not.

To Fiesta we went where we ran into a friend of Mikey's and his friends.

Cut to it being 4 in the morning and I'm finally pulling myself into bed. It was an epic night of too many drinks (I blame you, Jeremy! Sweet Tea Vodka is the death of me).

And then there was the pizza, networking, and hanging out in an apartment talking.

I'd be remiss if I didn't share this story though: Jeremy and I are walking to my car and are stopped by two teenagers (1 male, 1 female). The conversation went something like this:

Teenage Boy: Can we ask you kind of a weird question?

Jeremy: Sure.

Teenage Boy: How much would you pay my friend or I to blow you?

Marcus: Nothing.

Teenage Girl: Okay, what if it wasn't us. How much would you pay someone?

Marcus: Nothing.

Jeremy: I don't know.

Teenage Girl: We asked that other guy over there and he said 60 bucks.

Jeremy: We wouldn't.

And with that we walked away. Did we just get solicited by prostitutes? Because I think we did....

I pulled myself out of bed Saturday morning to begin

The Great Apartment Hunt of 2010.

Here's some pictures of what we found.

Notable highlights:

-Mr. Bess, an elderly landlord who lectured Denny and I on the trouble with America today (it was credit cards)

-A landlord who described the tenants of her building as "kids that belong on a TV show"

-Denny starving

-Passing the Fat Burger on Santa Monica 17 times

-Running around LA with Denny

-The apartment that smelt like cat pee

And this gem, the potential future home of Denny and I....

and that was just Friday and Saturday....

Rock for Equality

After an exhausting night Saturday, I woke up bright and early (except it wasn't that bright, given our gloomy weather [it was early though: 845!]) and went to the Rock for Equality rally at the L.A. Gay & Lesbian Center. But first - COFFEE!

Here's some pictures of the event:

(Mikey was there!)

(Barbara Boxer was there!)

Here's some facts:

-The federal government requires Americans in same-sex relationships to pay into Social Security like everybody else. These people are then denied key benefits that make up a crucial part of the safety net Americans rely on for their economic well-being in their latter years, or upon becoming disabled. In tough economic times, like those gripping the country today, these benefits are all the more critical.

-The Social Security Administration does not recognize any same-sex relationships, anywhere, including couples in states that afford same-sex couples the right to marry or the right to register as domestic partners.

-In some instances, the Social Security Administration affords certain advantageous benefits to divorced individuals that it does not provide to same-sex couples: even when the same-sex couples are married or registered as domestic partners.

-$ 2,046,872,071 is the current amount of money denied to same-sex couples and the number keeps growing.

Philanthropic: A Word I Can't Say

Not because it's bad. It's not a cuss word, don't worry. I just literally cannot pronounce it. I was trying all week to tell people that I was going to a fi-lən-ˈthrä-pik event, and I couldn't get the word out of my mouth.

That point aside - this weekend was the second Philanthro Production I attended. They are, as Mikey put it, events that make you "feel like you live in LA."



The First: Over the summer Nora, Justin and I went to SAVOR THE SUMMER, in which all proceeds benefited cystic fibrosis. It was a white party and Nora and I looked good. By the end of the night I looked terrible. fruit, chocolate, tacos and tequila stained my white ensemble. Worth it. This event was a blast. Free tequila before ten meant that when we got there at 9:30 we each downed way too many shots. I don't know if you know this about me- but three tequila shots is too many. Drunk Marcus loves tacos and so did the front of my outfit. Pretty people, loud music, food, and flowing booze. It was the type of event that makes you feel "so LA." I disappeared into the bathroom and came out to find all of my friends had already cabbed home. I walked.

The Second: Philanthro Productions threw another soiree this past weekend, ASPIRE. This party benefited homelessness. We joked that for every martini we drank, we were keeping a martini out of the hands of the homeless in an effort to get their lives back on track. But we paid our entrance fee and entered a room too small for the amount of people this event brought. That's great. the draw tot his event (not that events like these need a draw, everyone in LA wants to appear like they care about things other than themselves) was that it had food from some of the best restaurants in Venice. We pigged out on cupcakes and meatballs and steak and pasta and salad. And then we felt bad, given that the homeless are probably hungry. So we bought drinks (91% of our drink price goes to the charity).

All in all, they're great events. They're fun and you're going to spend that much on a night out anyways, might as well have it go to a good cause.

Now onto another point: Charity is a funny thing. It makes you feel good about yourself, but is that why you do it? It shouldn't be right? But it kind of is. Not that that's necessarily bad, just kind of interesting. People love causes. Look at Haiti, people have come out of the woodwork to support the 3rd world country rebuild after the devastating quake, but no one seemed to care that it was third world to begin with. Why does it take a huge event to make us notice those less fortunate? Why does it take someone getting cancer, to make someone an advocate for cancer research (which I am, by the way). Why are celebrities who donate to Haiti after a quake hailed heroes, but those who donate regularly ignored? It's all apart of image, I suppose. The more public the tragedy or the cause, the more publicity the philanthropic gesture gets.



We should start publicizing charities like mad, maybe they'll get more public donations.

I may be poor, I may be black, I may be ugly, but dammit- I'm here.

If you ever want to trap yourself in a long conversation that you can't get out of, ask me about me about The Color Purple.

After reading it Freshman year in college, it quickly became my favorite book. Since then, I read it every year (whenever I can get the book back in my possession - it being my favorite, I loan it out a lot to share the experience).

So of course, I've seen the movie and of course I wanted to see the musical. The moment the banners were hung outside the Pantages on Hollywood and Vine, I knew I'd be forking over the money (33 bucks! Not even that bad) to see how the book translated to the stage.



So real quick, for those of you that don't know the story - The Color Purple is the story of Celie, a poor illiterate black woman who was twice impregnated by her father, and sold off to another black man to care for his children. After completely abandoning her faith in God, Celie finds strength in the women around her to accept her role in life. Deep shit, right?

Not in this musical. That caught me off guard. The material is treated almost like a comedy and it was jarring. I had so many tonal expectations for the piece, thinking I was about to watch the African-American equivalent to a Les Mis, or a Phantom. I was anticipating dark and moody- instead, I got a lively & Gospel-y musical. It threw me completely off. It wasn't the Color Purple that I knew, loved and expected.



The first black woman to come into Celie's life is Sophia (we saw the actress who originated the role on Broadway-got a Tony nomination) and from the moment she marches on the stage she's a comedic role. She was an excellent comedic actress, but again, not what I expected.

The next woman is the sexual Shug Avery. Holy hell, this woman was my absolute favorite. The more I think about the musical, the more I love this actress/this character/this part. My favorite from the book, Shug is to sex what Sophia is to brute strength. Shug is also the one who opens Celie's eyes to what God really is.

"I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don't notice it."



With Shug Avery, the musical got right, what the movie got wrong. It kept the lesbian undertones. It's a tough sell. It was abandoned in the movie (and noticeably so). Celie has been abused by men, so naturally she opts to stay away from them. To keep herself closed off. She meets Shug, the epitome of sex (something she doesn't know) and immediately falls for her. It's part of her journey in accepting herself.

And the play hit it spot on. Their relationship is raw, and difficult. When Shug leaves (spoiler!) it hurts.

Fantasia shone as Celie. She completely embodied the role (and quite physically) and where I normally can't stand her voice (blasphemous? maybe) it worked perfectly for the down trodden character of Celie. And she can act! Boy, can she act. Her "I'm Here" is powerful. She absolutely brings down the house in act two. Brings it down, then builds it right back up again.



I abandoned my tonal expectations in act two and saw the musical for what it was. A celebration. A celebration of life and being here. It acknowledged the bad - but you can't live in it. It really made me take another look at the entire adaptation process and I can say this much: They got it right. It's not the book, but it shouldn't be. I know that now. It's hard because I'm so close to the book, but the themes came across and that's what's important.

If the book has my heart, this musical has my soul.

"I may be poor, I may be black, I may be ugly, but dammit- I'm here."

I'm none of those. (Okay- I'm one of those, maybe 2) But no matter who you are, there is always a time where you see nothing but your faults. You see nothing but the bad. When this happens, as The Color Purple reminds us, you've got to just accept yourself and remember that you're here.

And I am.

Ways To Stay Fit in LA

Yesterday, Mikey and I went to the batting cages in some ghetto part of LA. Nothing gets the aggression I have at my bosses out like hitting something really hard. Much to my surprise- I didn't suck. Soon each ball that came flying at me (please, keep the joke to yourself) went screaming back into the net.

Or bouncing.

Or hit the wall behind me.

But that's besides the point. When the bat and ball connected, suddenly my anger at my boss* all but disappeared.

This morning, however, it all came rushing back. In the form of pain. I am so sore, its unbelievable. So here it is- I'm going to try and get in [better] shape. I'm fat by no means, but that doesn't mean I'm fit. I want to be. So I'm compiling myself, and by default YOU a list of:

WAYS TO STAY FIT IN LA

1) Run. Walk. Jog.

You can't possibly drive down Santa Monica Boulevard in the morning without seeing a wave of runners. Every morning, afternoon, night, you name it - someone is running in LA. With so little in the name of athletic activities in the area, it is the easiest way to get in shape. Throw on your iPod and go. Run places. There's so much to do in LA, and lets be real - no one is going to care if you're gross and sweaty, because honestly, the bum behind you is grosser and sweatier.

I've tried this one. The jogging/running part isn't so much for me. But I do enjoy a walk. I'll take myself over to the La Brea Tar Pits, or down Hollywood Blvd., or to a friend's house. It takes longer- but I've got some good tunes and some great visuals. Doesn't hurt the legs so much either.

2) Bowl.

Go ahead and laugh. It can't hurt though, right?

3) Batting Cages.

The fact that I'm sore is testimony to the fact that this counts as athletic activity. Either that, or it's testimony to the fact that I don't know how to properly swing a bat. Regardless, it was a great way to spend an afternoon and it got out some of my aggression and frustration. It's not going to make my arms huge, but lets be real the only thing that will do that is steroids.

Luckily, its LA and I know just where to get them.

4) Swim.

My favorite when it's not freezing, and luckily, my apartment complex has a pool. I can stay in the pool for hours and it's a great place to think. If your apartment complex doesn't have a pool and you can't steal a friends. Santa Monica is a short drive away and there's an entire ocean to swim in. It's not at as convenient, but it's a chance to do some physical activity (hey! physical activity... there's another type that's not on this list, but for reputation's sake I'll keep it off the list. You know what I'm talking about though.) and get to the beach. Two in one!

5) Hike.

Runyon Canyon. Griffith Park. Done and done. Believe it or not, there is nature in LA, and with that nature comes some great places to hike with great views of the smog. Matt and I have gone up to Runyon a few times and it's really great. My legs scream at me by the end of it, but it's worth it. The views actually are good, and hikers are some of the nicest people you'll meet in LA.

6) Dance.

This usually happens for me when I'm intoxicated which doesn't help me physically. Maybe I'll try doing it sober. It's fun though, and again - couldn't hurt.

5) Tennis.

Mikey has a court next to his house. He and I are going to start playing. This activity only works if you have a friend. Make friends in LA and THEN use tennis as a means of staying fit.

6) Work On a Film Set.

This one is for LA kids! Film sets are hard work. Running around, constantly. Physical activity. If you work on a film set, you will be in better shape by the end of it. Unless you spend all your down time next to craft services.

7) Join a Gym.

Don't do it if you're going to compare yourself to everyone there. Unless you already have an incredible body - you WILL feel insecure walking into any gym in LA. LA is full of actors and models, all of whom won't get on TV unless they're a size 0. It's the best option, and also the most expensive. An expense I can't afford right now. One fateful day I may become a gym rat.

But don't count on it.

Mark my words though - physically fit Marcus begins yesterday.

*Blog Post on my job soon. I promise.