And speaking of our elevator, if it could talk, the stories it would tell about of the Latino trannie . . . girls who ride up and down late Tuesday afternoons. On the elevator. To pay for their ads. What'd you think I meant? Now, I'm not saying trannies are hot. I'll let the guys in Vice magazine do that for me. . . . Can't find where they said that. Great. Fine, I'll dig myself outta this hole. Situations like this are why I went to grad school. Obviously, the thing that makes trannies almost hot is, they're almost girls. They're not hot—not in this area code—but they could be. Without the chromosome. And the ding-a-ling. Otherwise? Totally hot. Okay, I've backed away from that long enough. Support our advertisers—they support this check.
The owners of the bad-ass Chicano store Calacas are proof that Mexicans and gabachos can not only get along, they can also get married and have cute kids. More than just violate OC's miscegenation taboo, however, the Cordovas are turning their store into the latest hub of Latino youth culture, hosting music nights, art shows and workshops. Besides, few things are sexier than seeing a chica caliente in one of Calacas' many snug, Mexi-ironic T-shirts—our favorite is the one with a Pepsi logo that says "Sexsi." Calacas is at 3374 S. Bristol St. Santa Ana, (714) 662-2002; www.calacasinc.com.
The former Hollywood starlet, ex-Republican and current Newport Beach resident makes our list because she's beautiful, brave, smart--and funny as hell. Unlike President George W. Bush, Mamie Van Doren actually went to Vietnam, where she entertained troops from the Mekong Delta to the DMZ. Last March, she made her debut as a political activist when she gave a rousing speech at an anti-war rally organized by the Orange County Peace Coalition. Asked about her decision to protest the U.S. war in Iraq, Van Doren recalled the lesson of Vietnam. "If you're of a certain age, you remember all that bullshit everyone talked about: the domino theory that Southeast Asia is going to fall apart," she said. "Well, now they're doing fine over there, and back here we're all messed-up. All that is history, and history is something you're supposed to learn from or you relive it. It makes me cringe every time I see another shooting or another bomb going off. It's sickening. I don't know how our president can sleep at night. And the vice president has nothing else better to do than shoot baby quail? He must just get off on that. It's despicable. Can you imagine going off and shooting little birds? There's no glory in that."
With his traditional Japanese half-sleeves, light-colored eyes, close-shaven haircut, and—most importantly—the pet dog that you'll see him walk through the parking lot of Detroit every now and then, Memphis Group co-owner Jason Valdez remains (around Weekly headquarters, at least) one of the county's leading young dreamboats. (And a leading, young, entrepreneurial dreamboat, at that.) He's just one of those dudes who can wear cotton T-shirts and jeans and still exude this irrepressible sense of calmness, sophistication and, well, dreamboatiness. Too bad word has it that Valdez is leaving Orange County—oh well, it was nice while it lasted. P.S. BTW, he recently got married. :[