We’re a Happy FamilyThe pilgrimage of Ramones fans to Hollywood Forever Cemetery has become an annual affair, but bopping to Rock ’n’ Roll High School was getting a bit old for some of us. Thankfully, Johnny’s widow, Linda Ramone, along with Henry Rollins and the band’s artist pal Arturo Vega, had something new to offer last Friday in the form of Too Tough to Die, a doc about the Ramones’ 30th-anniversary show at the Palace, now Avalon. (We were there!) The flick also features footage of the band’s final “Adios Amigos” show (we were also there!) and the Johnny memorial held at the cemetery when his statue was unveiled. (Yes, we were there!) The Ramones’ ’82 Us Festival performance was also screened. (Unfortunately, we weren’t there . . . our folks wouldn’t let us go!) Trying to chat with Marky Ramone while he posed for pics with the Mohawked mobs was tough, but we lucked out with Linda (dressed to the nines in a foxy purple ensemble complete with fur coat and matching suede boots and bag), who told us all about her latest project, JohnnyRamone.com, a fan site boasting everything from rare photos to an Internet radio show. Launching this October, it’s sure to be the Rockaway Beach for Ramones-loving Web surfers.
An invite to The Playboy Mansion may sound like two tickets to paradise to some fellas, but not all the parties hosted there are half-naked bacchanals à la The Girls Next Door. We know — we’ve been to a few now. The manse’s poolside-and-grotto area is often rented out for non-Playboy events — like the Karma Foundation’s Kandyland, which took over the grounds two weeks ago. This event (a partial fund-raiser for the Marconi Foundation for At-Risk Youth) did make an effort to provide appropriate eye candy, though: We’ve never seen so many booty shorts and Lucite heels in one place! Hollywood Blvd.’s stripper boutiques obviously raked in the dough that day. There were also Oompa Loompas everywhere — and we’re not talking about the saline or silicone sort (nor Ron Jeremy, who was there, and is actually super nice). The place was done up like Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, complete with the green-haired li’l guys greeting guests and a sexy rave vibe so sweet it even brought Hef and his girlfriends out of the house to hang in one of the VIP cabanas. By the way, those cabanas — which came with two bottles of Cristal, a “dedicated” hostess and a bodyguard — rented for a whopping $7,500, while a regular ticket cost $1,500 (some of which went to charity) — but that was just for dudes. Females were admitted free via the event’s Web site, which requested “Elegant Ladies.” Submitting a full-body photo and answers to questions like “What kind of Kandy are you and why?” put ya in the running for a “golden ticket” (including free booze and food), and apparently the judges were quite discriminating — a couple of cuties at the party told us their pals were rejected. Of course, the men weren’t subjected to any such scrutiny, though the invite’s instruction for them to wear all black — always a good look for gents — probably helped some of ’em score some sugar. It’s like the women’s movement never happened.
In the Pink
We’re going to refrain from making a joke about the subtext of the restaurant name Pink Taco (resisting a “firecrotch” reference is even harder; the Vegas eatery’s owner happens to be Lindsay Lo’s ex, Harry Morton). But we can say the place attracts quite the girl squad, particularly for the opening of its new Century City location last week. There were so many hotties at the Mexican hangout, in fact, the Fire Department showed up to shut down the party early, actually pulling the plug midsong on Men Without Sex, an ’80s cover band led by DJ/singer Morty Coyle. Coyle kept his cool, though, ending his rendition of “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” by leading the crowd through one final chorus, a cappella. But before the abrupt closure, the fiesta was a flyin’ success: DJ Stone Rokk turned the crowd into jumping beans (Brett Ratner did an impressive whiteboy jig to our right, and actress Amy Smart freaked in a foursome to our left), while more laid-back types, including Slash, Michelle Rodriguez and Michael Rosenbaum (a.k.a. Smallville’s Lex — with hair!), chose to chill in the booths. A pink carpet outside saw the likes of Jessica Alba, Mary-Kate Olson and Tommy Lee prancing through photo ops that included mariachis, minimasked wrestlers and a pink donkey. Unfortunately, the carpet didn’t stay pretty for long — the ass seemed to have a case of Montezuma’s revenge. Speaking of asses, upon leaving, we got stuck in another valet fracas with angry richies and bitchies (remember the Diesel bash?), many of whom crowded and cut in line (shame on you, Marlon Wayans!), forcing us to wait nearly an hour for our wheels. ¡Ay Car-amba!
The scene was far more classy at the Edison bar downtown, where Esquire mag celebrated its “Best Bars in America” issue earlier that eve. The gorgeous — and gigantic! — space has been getting a lot of buzz (both positive and negative) for its strict upscale dress code, but now that we’ve been there, we see why they don’t want sneaks stomping about. This space, part of a former power plant, is spectacular, meshing industrial chic and vintage elegance (waitresses wear flapperesque beaded gowns). The bash also featured a live performance by local indie rockers Low vs. Diamond, and though a jazz combo might have been more appropriate for the space, the band impressed with lush melodies and punchy riffs — think the Killers, the Walkmen, etc. Catch LVD’s Monday residency at the sneaker-friendly Spaceland all this month.