Chateau myButt

So my muscles are super super sore. I’m full on recovering from a massage. Swear to G_d I just wrote that. Rehana was in town for the weekend; we went to get some massages b/c the weather, as it always is when people fly across the damn country to visit me out here, was shitty, and there is little else in LA to do aside from shopping, eating, or…grooming…if it’s crappy out. So that is what we did. Anyway, this morning, I woke up with a crazy sore back that I didn’t have yesterday pre-massage. My face hurts. My skull hurts. Places where I didn’t even realize I had muscles, but sure enough recall getting rubbed out yesterday, are hurting.

Did you know that massages I guess break up all the lactic acid in your muscles that can cause knots, and that’s what makes it hurt afterward – all the lactic acid being released? Did you know? I didn’t. Now I do. I guess that’s why you’re supposed to drinks lots of water post-massage; to flush out all the toxins.

Well then. Getting to the point here. Last night we were forced to drive to HWood. KT and Eve (little Freddy) had driven over to the West side all weekend so we humored them and hit up the SSet Strip post dinner. We decided to go all out and do something totally HWood, as it was a long journey for a Monday night. Ended up at Chateau Marmont.

So it’s a well known fact that I read UsWeekly and all that shit from time to time with the “to” being a fairly brief time so I read it kinda somewhat often enough. And more importantly I am avid reader of thesuperficial.com, etc. etc. so I know my celeb gossip and as importantly, my celeb hotspots. Not that I ever see damn celebrities. This is only LA after all, where they ALL LIVE. Continuing on. So it’s known that the Chateau is this place where skanky red-head hoes like the infamous LLohan hang out on a frequent basis. I figure she’s fairly picky, at least when it comes to what she puts in her mouth versus her. Wow. I really did almost say that but I held back.

Therefore, I figured that the Chateau would be all neat and great and v. hot and stuff. Instead, it’s: 1) impossible to find the entrance as the hotel and the bar are in two diff buildings (I say weird); 2) frequented by a lot of not very hot people at least on Monday nights; 3) decked out in weird décor including stuffed peacocks, fake butterflies, and ancient looking red fabrics; 4) possessed of neglectful and cross-eyed (yes, actually, not metaphorically) bartenders; 5) smelly. Like what I’m not so sure, but I think it smells.

I don’t get it. I really don’t. What’s the hype all about kids? I had a late afternoon drink at The Wilshire yesterday as well, and I must say, that place is so way better. And it’s on the West Side. And has outdoor fireplaces. And open air. And pretty furniture. And lovely flora all around. What’s not to like? Why would celebs pick such weirdo places to be hotspots? I’m at a loss here. Ideas are welcome.

On that note, I’m going to go to bed. I will likely continue to ponder this question as I fall asleep. Hopefully you won’t, as in all honestly it’s not realllllly worth pondering, but someone has to do it.