Only In My L.A.

…….. is so good, I really didn’t expect it to be. Really, really good.  Right up there with La Serenata, La Loteria and King Taco.

And please get your mind out of the gutter people. I’m honestly talking about the food at Pink Taco.  The Pink Taco in the Century City mall to be exact. Although, to be fair, it IS a common mistake, since as Wikipedia so eloquently points out, the name is also “a slang term for a human vagina.” And not just any ole vagina either, but an actual real live human one.

But let’s get back to business. Delicious Mexican food. One of my favorite topics. Pink Taco’s carne asada tacos are delish, the guacamole is the bomb diggy, and hasta las ensaladas son bien bueno. The happy hour ain’t too shabby either, or the “feliz hora” I guess I should say (in the spirit of ‘keepin it real’.) I recommend it. Odale pinche cabrones.  Cono

The Republic ain’t no AREA. Now that’s a club.

The Republic should change its name to RepubliCAN’T. Because I CAN’T do it. Ever again. It’s not, and let’s get this straight once and for all, anywhere near Area’s level in terms of good Hollywood clubs. It’s sloppy seconds. On a ‘feeling generous’ day.

The Republic is basically where you go when you can’t get into Area. It’s the obvious choice when you’ve already paid the $20 valet parking fee at Area and for one reason or another the annoying bouncer girl who’s everywhere these days won’t let you in. There’s no better idea than to run across La Cienega and pop into The Republic, right?

WRONG.

The Republic, (and I’m not talking about the Dominican), is a total waste of time. “I wish I had four thumbs, so I could give it four thumbs down!!” (Sorry; the Dave Chapelle-isms still live on in my mind, even if he did turn crazy and run away to Africa.)

I can’t put my finger exactly on why The Republic is so bad either. But let’s try:

1. No cute boys.
2. Not even any cute girls to get inspirational future club outfit ideas from.
3. The music is bad. “Trying to be old school but instead just old” bad.
4. It’s pitch dark upstairs, but still light enough to see that the man hitting on you isn’t cute in any way, shape or form.
5. There’s a teeny tiny opening in the roof downstairs, so people think they’re “outside” and thus able to smoke.
6. The bathrooms are unisex. Which takes away our private girl time to primp and discuss. We have meetings in the ladies’ room, guys. Duh. It’s not just a song you know. We have important decisions to make on the fly. “Is he cute? Or am I just ti’sy?” We simply don’t have time for interruptions if we want to cover every topic on the agenda.

So there you have it. Reasons why The Republic is on my list of “I’ll never go there again”, right in between Chapter 8 (a bad club far far far deep into the Valley), and Jean Pierre. Once is more than enough. And if you’re ever in Area and your friends want to “try someplace new for a sec across the street”, don’t do it. Hold on to the bar at Area and make them drag you kicking & screaming.  Learn from my mistakes.   Knowledge is power.

I went out last night to Winston’s, a cute little bar in West Hollywood, often shortened to West Ho. I just realized what an appropriate abbreviation that is too. Not that I mean to be stereotypical or homophobic or anything. It’s just that I’ve heard from the horses’ mouths themselves that men who love men generally put out. They don’t have time to play hard to get like us girls sometimes do. There’s wives & kids to get home to! (Sorry, I just read “On The Down Low”, and it’s obviously still affecting me.)

Anyway, this former Boystown hotspot has now become the latest ““urban hipster” bar. (I don’t really know what that means, but it’s per www.la.com, and they know what they’re talking about.)

So I’m officially recommending Winston’s. And that’s kind of like a big deal. :0)