September 21, 2012
Pinky’s ORB!!!
September 22, 2012

Several people are asking what happened to Project Hollywood and the pink rooster “Pinky”. I am a blunt mofo. I don’t give a damn if anyone gets upset. It is only the truth. I do not pick sides. I will spill the truth from “Pinky’s” alcohol and drug abuse to Speer’s pain medicine use. Yes, I have said it. You can even read about it in Speer’s blog http://projecthollywood.org/author/adminspeer/

Let me start with Pinky. I moved in to Project Hollywood in November 2011. My first week there, I started noticing that the Pink Rooster (Pinky) was missing a few screws in his head. I woke up one morning and I was about to eat breakfast when Pinky told me he needed a ride and that he would buy me lunch. I drove him all across town to a suburb called Silver lake, where he met up with this obese Betty Boop rockabilly looking girl.

They sat down in the restaurant and he asked me to wait in the car. Three hours later, he was not answering his phone. I called the house but no sign of him. I got a call from PH an hour later from “Baaa” and told me that Pinky took a cab home. That sh*t pissed me off! I was parked across the street of the restaurant this whole time. As soon as I got home I made sure to charge him for my gas. That’s one thing I never understood. The guy had his own car but always asked for rides everywhere. It seemed as if he always was looking for weak-minded people to give him stuff for free.

I knew that he knows NLP. He would make you feel bad and ask from you anything he wanted but in a smarter way. “I am an AFC in emailing people. I wish someone would help me.” That’s the way he would ask for sh*t he did not want to do for himself. Or my favorite would be, “I need a bad-ass body guard for tonight.” He would qualify you for you can volunteer to work overtime for free. I gotta say, it worked the first time, but I caught on to his BS very quickly. After that day, I would always keep an eye of his whereabouts as he liked going from shop to shop and disappearing. He reminded me of my 4 year old nephew that would disappear in the middle of a market if you didn’t keep on eye on him. Numerous of times he would sneak to the alley behind Melrose Avenue and smoke a joint with his beloved Obese Betty Boop.

He would always jump in my car and smell like a skunk. I found a joint once in his car. He would always blame it on his whores that they left that there because he had never done that. Little did he know that my major is criminal justice with a minor in psychology. He was good in NLP but he was an AFC in lying. I was beginning to feel sorry for this gremlin.

The first party we had a PH, he kept telling Red and I that we were doing a shitty job. He was plastered drunk out of his ass. He kept telling us that we had to bodyguard him better and that we had to take more photos of him making out with his 3’s and 4’s. He reminded me of the movie Super Troopers where the cop pulls the car over and keeps telling the driver to pool over while the car is in park. I think that’s the first time I got in his face. Red and I both talked to Speer to make him shut his pie hole.

I’ll never forget the first trip to San Francisco. I had never been north of the San Fernando Valley, which is in the outskirts of L.A. I regrettably volunteered to drive Pinky, Hydro and Hush up to San Fransisco for a bootcamp. I remember Hydro yelling at Pinky because he was always late to events. Now I know how Hydro felt all this time because I took over his department after he left. Our first stop on our way to S.F. was this hillbilly town called the City of Fresno. We were informed by the group leader that there was 20 something guys waiting for us. When we got there, there was 3 people in a room where we were 1 hour late to. No one left, they were all there; all 3 of them. The lair head was super cool but his brother was something else. Actually, I remember watching a video of him asking a celebrity out to a date wishing someone knew her and would tell her if she wanted to go out with him. Guy was not all there.

Pinky kept hitting on the weird guys butch lesbian sister. “This is so white trash of me clipping my nails on this guys porch,” Pinky mumbled as he pulled out a nail clipper from his pocket and started clipping his nails in the dudes porch. I walked towards the restroom, my second regret of the trip, the restroom was filthy. The sink was full of toothpaste with clipped hair and the trashcan was overflowing. How do you expect for girls to want to come back to your place if it looks like this? I told the owner of the place that this pad has to be more girl friendly. The guys were nice and asked us to stay but, after Pinky and I saw this huge roach on the kitchen, we decided to split.

Pinky took us to the hotel and left us there before paying for the room, not to mention food. He ran out with the butch lesbian. Once again we kept calling him but he didn’t answer. We were left there in the cold. This was a business trip. I wasn’t about to pay for the room! We called him over and over until we got fed up so we called Speer and the third business owner. Don’t get me wrong, if one of my friends was getting some, I would not call him over and over because I know my boys would not leave me outside all night. We were fed up with Pinky’s sh*t but this was only the beginning of his selfish trip to S.F. …