Only in West Hollywood

The reputation and population of West Hollywood grew alongside the movie business, and the best place to see this is in the former Pickford-Fairbanks studios, which today is just called The Lot (1041 W. Formosa Ave.; 323-850-3180). Mary Pickford and Douglas Fairbanks built the studio in the mid-’20s, a few years after they had formed United Artists with the other leading stars of Hollywood, Charlie Chaplin and D.W. Griffith. The main idea behind United Artists was for the stars, who knew their drawing power even then, to organize and distribute their own films, and retain most of the profits, instead of seeing it go to the studio heads. Trouble plagued the first few years because U.A. was not generating enough product, with Chaplin still under contract to another studio, Griffith in a perpetual money crisis after his film Intolerance broke him, leaving Fairbanks and Pickford to pick up the rest of the slack. After five years, Griffith dropped out to join Paramount, but Chaplin had begun to make films with U.A., though between him, Pickford and Fairbanks they were only making about three films a year. After talkies became the standard, the three stars diminished in stature.

Max’s (442 N. Fairfax Ave.; 323-651-4421)is a place where people only know your name if you act like an asshole. Its darkness and anonymity attracts celebrities like Michael Stipe and Brad Pitt, who sit around and reminisce about the East Village over Manhattan-type service (good if you tip well) and prices (cheap food, expensive stiff drinks). Owner Randi Chernov, herself a Manhattan emigrant, named the joint after her nephew, and wanted to build a place where people could chat, no matter how deep or meaningless the alcohol makes them sound. "People can come here and be," says Chernov, who unlike most Village barkeeps actually hangs out in her place and mingles with patrons. The bar, while small, has a lot to look at, with works of local artists on the walls, red candles lit low enough to make your date desirable, attractive bartenders, and very good food ($4-$9) for a dive of this nature.

As West Hollywood’s demographics have shifted to a predominantly gay and Russian neighborhood over the past 30 years, the "world-famous" Paris House (7527 Santa Monica Blvd.; 323-876-0033) has remained a local fixture for the straight and sleazy. Catering to married businessmen who’re supposed to be on their lunch breaks or taking a business meeting, it’s remained a popular afternoon stomping ground going back to the likes of Elvis. From the outside, the Russian district storefront looks like a crappy apartment building, but inside, the plush red carpet, red lights, and several ladies in waiting greet you. Your date of choice takes you inside a white, mirror-covered room, turns on the music and begins the ä show. It’s pricey — $60 plus tip for a half-hour — but the ladies attest that the substantial investment beats any five-minute lap dance.

The special bond between a pet and its owner offers endless and unconditional love, comfort and companionship to people living with HIV and AIDS, and since 1989, PAWS/L.A. (7315 Santa Monica Blvd.; 323-876-7297) has provided the funds and care necessary to look after animals whose owners are stricken with the virus. PAWS/L.A., which stands for Pets Are Wonderful Support/Los Angeles, is the largest of similar nonprofit organizations nationwide serving more than 1,400 home-bound clients — who are referred to by AIDS organizations like AIDS Project Los Angeles and Project Angel Food — and their 2,300 pets in L.A. County. Volunteers provide and deliver food to dogs, cats, birds and iguanas, take them to the veterinarian and groomers, walk dogs, and will even clean out those smelly kitty-litter boxes and bird cages. PAWS/L.A. also pays for spaying/neutering and vaccinations. The sheer cost of medical care for HIV/AIDS patients is daunting enough, and for those who simply become too ill to take care of their pets, PAWS/L.A. places animals in foster care instead of the pound.

Dildos and vibrators and whips — oh my! If you leave the Tomkat theater so excited you just want to spank yourself silly, check out The Pleasure Chest (7733 Santa Monica Blvd.; 323-650-1022), conveniently located across the street to help you figure out how. It’s a strictly 18-and-over erotic emporium filled with lingerie, videos, novelties and sexual aids. The tame stuff on the first floor includes a wall-to-wall section of naughty greeting cards, clocks, handcuffs, magazines, and T-shirts with such killer slogans as "Young, dumb and full of cum." Nearly everything in the store is either boob- or penis-shaped, from straws to lollipops to pasta (giving a whole new meaning to spaghetti with meatballs). The merchandise on the second floor gets a ä little more shocking. Ever hear of the "Diving Dolphin"? How about the "Spiral Butt Plug"? The plastic vaginas, vibrators and dildos come in so many different speeds, colors, shapes and sizes (25 inches being the largest), some look like detachable parts of a vacuum cleaner, and others you’re positive aren’t even meant for humans. The frilly boas, corsets, stockings, and painful-looking S&M bondage gear with matching whip and paddle can spice up any wardrobe, and the adult-baby clothes from the Happy Nappyland collection will unleash that disturbed child in you.