photo by Jack GouldTry as we might to get really angry!—because angry! people are so interesting, aren't they?—we'd really rather let other people get angry! for us. But in a full week of bopping here and there and all around, the only angry! people we saw were the ones at the Blue Cafe on Sunday who wanted to kick the cripple's ass.

Don't get us wrong: the cripple deserved it, assuming that he wasn't entirely off his head, which in downtown Long Beach is assuming a lot. Still, we'd witnessed the cripple the Sunday before, jamming his chair into reverse at high speeds without looking, while the toasty Bourbon Jones fans on the patio scrambled out of his way. Then, just a week later, angry! at a waitress who wouldn't serve him any more, he managed to send a different waitress with a full tray flying onto her face, narrowly missing the edge of a table, before he sped off without even looking back.

The pretty waitress was shaken but fine, and the cripple's in for a world of hurt should he ever show his weather-beaten mug around pouty-lipped harpist Mikey Meyer, who says nobody's above a beating. Our wholly inadequate solution, of course, would be a “time out” for the cripple. Bad cripple! Bad!

We tried our best to rile up the Libertarians at their “nonpolitical” mixer at Irvine's Doubletree Hotel on Friday. And, really, it didn't take much. Our friend Mark Hilgenberg, for example, got real angry! about gun control. His solution for gun killings? More guns in everybody's hands. And how does that solve killings that occur when kids get hold of their idiot parents' guns (happily, no one was hurt just a few weeks ago when that preschooler brought to school his parents' gun, which they kept loaded on their nightstand)? Well, Hilgenberg's not sure. Perhaps if the other preschoolers were well-armed, they could have a nice little system of checks and balances. Tag! You're it!

Doug Scribner, meanwhile, is angry!about the war on drugs, an anger! we can march to. And so is former Libertarian gubernatorial candidate Steve Kubby, now an OC resident and currently on trial for cultivation and possession of medical marijuana, allegedly for sales. He smokes the stuff for his particularly deadly form of adrenal cancer, which he's had for 22 years and counting. But Kubby says that instead of just treating the unpleasant symptoms of cancer—nausea, wasting syndrome, etc.—cannabinoids actually cause his cancer cells to stop growing and dividing, as shown by British scientists who experimented on some of his cells and backed up by his doctor at the University of Southern California. “I have the cure to cancer,” Kubby enthused, before going into some of the rather shocking surveillance tactics he and his wife (and alleged co-conspirator), Michele, were allegedly put through: having their lovemaking tape-recorded through their walls and their trash searched, among many other bad things. Bad police state! Bad! Scribner likes to show his anger! by passing out dollars with “I grew hemp” inked on them over George Washington's head. It's not illegal, he says, citing Title 18, Part 1, Chapter 17, Section 333 of the criminal code. One great thing about the often-lunatic Libertarians: they know their codes, man, scouring them often, for fun, and then e-mailing the results to everyone they know. We love wonks.

We were having such a good time with the Libertarians that we lost track of the time and missed the Angoras' set at Sunset Beach's 13th Floor. Everybody else was really complimentary, though, and said bassist Yami was just going off.Having a bun in the oven apparently doesn't stop the girl from doing scowling rock-god back bends. Yami rules. We were there in time for Burnin' Groove, though, who you'll be glad to know are still cute.

On Nov. 13, we hit the Cosmic Bowl in Rossmoor, and a Parents Without Partners event broke out! It was great fun and full of very screamy—scream! Scream! Screeeeeeeam!—teenage girls. However, in the hour and a half allotted for Cosmic Bowling, we didn't even manage to make it through two full games. Two of our friends had four strikes each in seven frames before the lanes shut down and the lights came up. They were not permitted to finish the game. Grrrr, Cosmic Bowl!

On Nov. 15, we hit two benefits in a row, neither of which was very angry!, unless you count conservative Pepperdine guy Joel Kotkin reminding us that wealth needs to be divided (!) at the Brookstone 20—a bunch of computer geeks raising funds for Jobs Orange County, which trains foster teens for the moment when they're kicked out of the system with the equivalent of a handshake and a new suit. It's a terrific program, though it always irks us just a teeny bit when the founder uses such terminology as “helping break the cycle of dependence and entitlement,” a phrase that seems to be prominently placed in all the literature. It's probably a grrrreatway to get business-type folks to fork over wads of cash—nothing better than teaching those entitlement-saddled foster teens the error of their ways —but seems unnecessarily divisive to us.

We skipped on over to Martinis in the Garden of Good and Olive to see the always-charming and ever-sexy The Lady Chablis at Diva (where else?) in Costa Mesa. She was there promoting the next evening's concert rendition of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil (she was the part of the movie that didn't suck, remember?), to be held during the Philharmonic's Eclectic Orange festival. The food was terrific (lovely fluffy shrimp and andouille sausage), the Pearl Vodka was free, and the people were really, really old. And you know what? There's nothing old people like better than a charming, sophisticated black tranny. It's true! But we guess there's nothing very angry!about that. Maybe we could have gotten The Reverend Lou Sheldon there, with some picketers and pickled ideas in his head. That would have been fun, don't you think?

Lookin' for a good time? Co**********@ho*****.com">Co**********@ho*****.com. Heh-heh-heh.

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