From the L.A. Bizarro Archives comes this hilarious ad from BP dated 2008, touting their “unique, eco-friendly gas station” on the corner of Robertson and Olympic. BP claims this “experimental site” was created with the purposes of “engaging customers in a dialogue about ways in which their impact on the environment can be reduced.”

We just hope BP engages those who earned their living and made their homes in the Gulf with such a “dialogue”—and backs it up with a buttload of green.

One of the many original entries from the first edition of L.A. Bizarro that did not get reconstituted for the new edition was a piece on one of L.A.’s finest old Hollywood landmarks, The Jayne Mansfield Mansion, for the simple reason that some moron developer tore it down in 2002 and completely leveled the entire property, heart-shaped pool and all.

We had been obsessed with the house (which formerly stood on the corner of  Sunset and Carolwood Drive) for years. Then on one fortuitous afternoon in 1999, we were allowed into said Mansion—by way of bending truths and assuming false identities—for a no-holds-barred tour. At that time the property was owned by Engelbert Humperdinck.  However, it should be noted that, A) Engelburt was not home to the time of our visit, B) We entered legally, and, C) We didn’t steal anything, swear to God, even though we really wanted to.  Especially one of the hand towels with a big “E” embroidered on them.

In homage to Jayne, Engelburt had painted the house back to her original pink, so the place really didn’t look too unlike it did when she lived there.  The fountains were still bubbling in the backyard and the heart-shaped pool was entirely intact.  We were shocked however, to identify much of her original decor still in place throughout the house. Her piano graced the living room, the swag lamps still hung in the entry, her gold vein mirrored headboard was still fixed to the master bedroom wall, and the red leather tufted walls of her office were as sumptuous as ever.  The heart-shaped gold-tiled bathtub had been removed (inconceivable), but we thrilled to have the opportunity to stand where Jayne peed and took  bubble baths nonetheless.

And then it was gone.  Completely leveled.  Where did all those treasures go?  The gold-vein head board, the piano, the cherubs? The huge wrought-iron gates festooned with an ornate “J M” ?  Where?

This is just a long way of asking if anyone knows.  Does anyone have any idea if those things were ever auctioned?  Dumped someplace that we can still loot?

You can see more original house—and 2002 demolition—photos here, and you can read the original excerpt from the first edition on our Read Book Excerpts page.

No, we don’t think what Dr. Laura did was funny or clever or classy or tactful—or demonstrated the slightest fraction of decorum, but frankly, we’re with Dr. Laura on this one.

We empower the word “nigger” and make it all magical by creating just this kind of fuss over it. If she had called someone a racial slur, that would have been entirely different of course, but she didn’t. She was only referencing the word in her inimitable—albeit sometimes hard-edged—way.

Dr. Laura is not a religious leader. She is not the president of a university. She is not a politician. Dr. Laura is a radio talk show host. Ideally she may want her show to be informative and enlightening to her listeners, but above all, it must be entertaining. It’s a show. And that’s her schtick; the tough-love, the straight talk, the abrasive, righteous preaching, the in-your-face nagging, the dry humor and the sarcasm—oftentimes used to great effect. Sometimes she earns her laughs. Sometimes she goes thud. But that’s show business. And people don’t listen to Dr. Laura because they want soft-handed rhetoric delivered with a light touch.

We certainly don’t concur with all Dr. Laura’s opinions, nor do we support her political agenda or want to be her friend. In fact, we’re pretty sure Dr. Laura would thoroughly hate us (but, full disclosure, we both own Dr. Laura dolls, and love pushing the button that makes her talk). But to be talking about hip-hop and black comedians and saying that all they say is “nigger nigger nigger,”…well, first of all, she’s right. Second, Larry David can do a whole show on that topic and say it all he wants and not get in trouble because he is not Dr. Laura, and that’s like what, a triple-standard? Either it’s bad or good, but you don’t get a special pass to say it if you’re black or an ironic Jewish comedian. It’s either in the acceptable lexicon or not. It’s that simple.

And just so you don’t think we’ve lost our minds, we’d like to close this post with a photo of Dr. Laura’s son, Deryk, whom we hope will soon write the salacious tell-all book we’ve been waiting for since he was born: My Mother, Dr. Laura.

Now, go take on the day.

Researching a book like L.A. Bizarro can be a tricky proposition. Not everyone wants their business immortalized in a book with “Bizarro” in the title, but that’s usually because they don’t understand that when we say “Bizarro,” we mean it in the best possible way, and with only the greatest reverence. Usually.  Having blown it enough times, we’ve learned to be careful when we approach our subjects, sometimes being honest about who we are and what we’re doing, and other times going undercover for fear that once the proprietor of a particular L.A. Bizarro destination gets hep to who we are and what we’re doing, we’ll be shown the nearest exit, post haste (which has certainly happened more times than we’d care to count). Fortunately, no one knows who we are, but it’s the “what we’re doing” part that’s difficult to hide when your snapping photos, taking notes, and asking a whole lot of nosey questions.  Bestseller status notwithstanding, a book called “L.A. Bizarro” is not always the best calling card, so we totally get why we’re not entirely trusted.

When we sought out to write our new edition, we really wanted to include one of L.A.’s professional dungeons.  We felt the BDSM “underground” is as much a part of the L.A. environment as Bob Baker’s Marionette Theater or ostentatious Sports Utility Vehicles, and we wanted to represent.  But the BDSM scene is a tough nut to crack if you’re an outsider; especially an outsider writing a book whose sole purpose is exploitation.  An establishment like a professional fetish studio has enough on their plate, what with keeping weirdoes at bay and warding off unwanted attention, in addition to staying on top of the general responsibilities and hands-on maintenance that comes with operating any legit business open to the public, under-the-radar as they might be.  We pretty much assumed a place like that wouldn’t want to waste their time with two hosebags like us, especially if we’re not paying for a session.   We expected the dungeon door to slam thunderously in our faces.

When we did our preliminary research, we put the word out to every fetish studio in town, and in spite of the fact that L.A. Bizarro is unabashedly fetish-friendly, we had extremely low expectations with regard to who might actually grant us an interview.

That’s why we totally dig Lady Hillary, of Lady Hillary’s Dominion: L.A.’s oldest professional dungeon, and the only female-owned-and -operated fetish studio in town. Not only was she receptive to our inquiry, she was a big fan of L.A. Bizarro to boot!

We were thrilled to the marrow of our bones to receive an exclusive invitation to Lady Hillary’s discreetly located two-story Tudor, and even more thrilled when we were given no less than a two-and-a-half hour no-holds-barred interview with the Lady herself, who was not only fabulously quotable, but thoughtful enough to share her personal files documenting the Dominion’s thirty-year history with photos, newspaper articles, and other sundry vintage documents.  Once buzzed past the security gate, we were met with a mi dungeon es tu dungeon sort of graciousness.  She introduced us to her dommes, allowed us to bring our cameras into the Dominion’s darkest corners (without compromising the privacy of her clients of course, she is a Lady after all), and in effect, gave us an all-access backstage pass to one of L.A.’s most private locales. All the while giving it to us straight, without attitude or affectation—but often in good humor—demonstrating that Lady Hillary is not only a super cool gal and a super fun hostess with a super cool pad, she’s also a damn good businesswoman.

She also put a great big luscious link to L.A. Bizarro front and center on the Dominion’s bitchin’ website: www.donimionsm.com!  That kind of publicity you can’t even buy.  And we know, we’ve tried.

Want to know more about the Dominion?  Flip to page 162 and get the lowdown. And should you choose to book a session with L.A.’s First Lady of Kink or a member of her talented staff, be sure to tell her we sent you.  And don’t embarrass us.

Footnote: The following is a comment from The Lady herself, which was originally posted to the old L.A. Bizarro website, where this blog post first ran:

I love you guys!! I never had any reservations about being in your book.  The fact is I was like a giggly schoolgirl doing the happy dance when you asked me!!  I had purchased your first book and thought it was great ( but could have been better if we had been in it! ), so honestly I was pretty jazzed.

I of course did have concerns about exploitation but Matt really put my mind at ease.  It is really kind of nice to be able to trust someone and have that trust honored.  I was perfectly at ease as were the Lovely Ladies  of The Dominion.  You honored our wishes and addressed our concerns and still made the article top notch and interesting.

I honestly feel so good about the article I just smile every time I see it!

This is one of the highlights of my career and it is especially rewarding for me to have someone write an article of this caliber about The Dominion.  We all work very hard to keep The Dominion the “Friendliest Little Dungeon in Town” and we all thank you very much!

We hope to see you again and when  you are in town please stop by and see us again.

Your kinky friend,

Lady Hillary

We’ve said it before and we’ll say it again: Angelyne is everything we love about Los Angeles. She’s the good and the bad, the cool and the cruel, the alpha and the omega. We’ve waxed lyrical over Angelyne ad nauseam in both editions of our L.A. Bizarro, and it beats the shit out of us why Angelenos aren’t more appreciative of her work. Angelyne is like a great piece of public art, and we can’t imagine an L.A. without her.