Crimezine amazing lookalikes—Hero of the hardboiled Raymond Chandler and existentialist philosopher John Paul Satre.

Satre (left) and Chandler (right) Live in peace with your pipe.

Greetings Crimeziners. It has been all stations go on Mulholland Drive recently, with a veritable plethora of crimetastic goings on washing in from every conceivable angle. There have been so many publishers and Hollyweird cinematographers thrusting their shamelessly crime-filled wares in our direction, we are quite literally soiling our collective pantaloons with excitement.

Firstly, however, we are very sad to report the tragic demise of much favored [and aged] Crimezine relative Harry Paratesties of the New Hampshire Paratesties legal and taxidermic dynasty. Famed for his contribution to spittoon development and his many valuable insights into, “Just what the hell is wrong with the younger generation anyway.” Uncle Harry will be sadly missed.

Any road up, dear Uncle Harry, or “Badger” as he was inexplicably called by all who knew him, bequeathed Crimezine his vellum bound collection of the entire Brad Thor oeuvre, which has led to many leisured and over-sauced mornings by the swimming pool, as Crimezine cocktail wrangler Consuela tops off glasses with generous pourings of delicious imported breakfast cognac.

Still, enough of the travails of life in West Los Angeles and onwards with the very serious and quite startling revelation that Raymond “Raymondo” Chandler, a man who virtually invented the term hardboiled, is a doppelganger double of garlic chomping Frenchie philosopher and existentialist communist nuisance, John Paul Satre. [Surely Tad Dorgan coined the term hard-boiled? Ed]

Let’s examine the evidence shall we? Well, they both wore bottle thick cheaters for a start. [enough with the Tad Dorganisms. Ed] Additionally, they both suffered from Nausea, although admittedly Chandler’s trouble stemmed from the half gallon of Scotch he swilled back every day rather than existential angst. Both men were of course dedicated advocates of the pipe and unless startled by sudden flash photography, these literary behemoths were never without thick, black, smoke-churning briars hanging from their learned lips.

Then there was the trouble with women. Chandler famously lived with his mom and his wife, a woman old enough to be his mom, for many a long year. Satre on the other hand, slavered after live in lover and all round feminist saucepot Simone de Beauvoir; a Ménage à trois of quite a different kind, as kinky school teacher Simone had a penchant for quite literally “bringing her work home” for Satre to share.

So there we have it Crimeziners—two literary giants—one shared physiognomy. Separated at birth, or one and the same person?
You dear Crimeziner shall be the judge, as once again a bare-chested Consuela is chasing Armando the Guatemalan pool boy around the yard. Intervention will be necessary, as the slip and fall legislation in Southern California is particularly draconian.

Simone de Beauvoir pops one off. Raymond Chandler stands by without judgement.

 

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Crimezine solves a mystery on Mulholland Drive: Amazing Lookalikes, Cesar Milan and Robert Crais separated at birth?

Cesar Milan (Left) and Robert Crais

Confusion reins on Mulholland Drive Crimeziners and I think you can see why.

Cesar Milan doppelganger Robert Crais has been alarming members of the neighborhood watch community, by sprouting a for-goodness-sake-cut-it-off chin beard. The facial fungus has resulted in an exponential increase in Cesar Milan sightings in the neighborhood and the Crimezine neighborhood watch hotline has quite literally been ringing off the hook.

Regular Crimezine readers will no doubt know that Pooch fancier Crais is fond of pounding the Mulholland neighborhood in skin-tight lycra jogging gear accompanied by his giant pack of slavering attack dogs, an act that has caused raised pulses amongst many of the areas more elderly residents, including Octogenarian thesp’ Jack Nicholson.

Mr. Nicholson has, like many seniors, in the area got one eye firmly on local property values and has expressed grave concerns that a “glorified dog trainer” might have moved into the area without the approval of neighborhood nabobs. The Witches of Eastwick star was much placated when Crimezine assured him that Milan has, according to recently revealed court documents, a personal wealth in excess of $45 million. The One flew over the Cuckoo’s nest star did however point out that $45 million is veritable pocket change, when compared to the untold wealth of billionaire author Crais, who’s latest book Taken has been topping the Best-Seller lists for literally months on end.

Crimezine blames Michael Connelly of course, who’s all pervasive presence In Los Angeles is known to influence Bonzo Bob to the extent that Connelly’s Harry Bosch appeared in the Crais book The Last Detective. The mighty Connelly has, as many Crimeziners are no doubt aware, been sporting an impressive and luxuriant chin beard since early childhood. Coincidence?

So next time you are cruising Mulholland, have no fear. The jogger with the attack dogs is simply America’s greatest crime writer going about his beardly business. As for the pooches—they are easily fooled by the new look and have been extra obedient of late which is fortunate, because the steady rattle of Keep-the-noise-Down Craises typographical writing machine indicates that he is working hard on his latest book. Crimezine will keep you informed of developments.

Mulholland Drive mourns, as Soul Train creator, Dapper Don Cornelius, checks out of Funky Town with a .45 calibre finale.

Dapper Don Cornelius

Flags, like our flared trousers, are hanging half mast this week Crimeziners, as Mulholland friend and neighbor Dapper Don Cornelius the godfather of groove-tastic Seventies music show Soul Train chose to shoot himself, rather than dwell on the pain of divorce and debilitating ill health, which has plagued him for many years.

Don is the man who launched a thousand music careers, a myriad funky dance moves and some of the most ludicrous fashion crazes popular culture has ever encountered. We love you Don, your legacy lives on.

Speaking of neighbors, Curtain-twitching Crimeziner and colossus of Crime Fiction Robert keep the noise down Crais is back in town, after a trip to Mystery One Bookshop in Wisconsin, where he no doubt inflicted his cheeky-chappie persona (and garish taste in socks) on local crime fans. Crais is currently promoting his latest Cole & Pike bestseller, Taken.

Thankfully Bonzo Bob is now safely back in Los Angeles, where he will be making a ‘grueling’ series of public appearances this weekend at Mysterious Galaxy Redondo Beach [2/5/12] followed by Book Carnival on Tustin Av, Saturday, and Mysteries to Die For on Thousand Oaks Boulevard Sunday. No sulking out of towners Bob is like Santa Claus and he will get to all of you eventually.

Lastly a word of cheer. St Albans State Prison has an inmate run print shop where all manner of naughty shenanigans have been occurring. The trouble started when Vermont State Police put in a decal order for their Police cruisers.

The Vermont State Police emblem is a colorful affair featuring, among other things, a jolly spotted cow standing in a lusciously verdant pasture. How nice! Vermont is after all the Green Mountain State.

Pig Cow

Unfortunately for the State Police, one of the prisoners in the print shop decided to subtly alter the image of the cow, so that one of cow’s splotchy patches became a pig. Apparently this tomfoolery will cost an astonishing $780 to put right and the lags in the prison print shop will have to foot the bill.

Crimezine thinks the dumb ass in county hall who thought up the idea of convicts decorating cop cars should pay. Although we are sure the state legislature could collect many times this figure to actually keep the ‘new’ logo.

As always in parting, Crimezine & Don Cornelius wish you Love, Peace and Soul.

Holy Cadavers Batman! Mulholland Neighborhood Watch tables meeting, as severed head and human body parts litter the neighborhood.

Cesar Millan look-alike Crais—The one in the sunglasses

As Crimezine was enjoying a particularly refreshing three-fingered glass of breakfast Cognac by the pool this morning who should poke his head through the Ferrari sized hole in our electrified perimeter fence, but neighborhood curtain twitcher and crime-writing Uber-Mensch. Robert Keep the Noise downCrais.

Crais has been uncharacteristically chipper of late and today was no exception, as his latest Cole and Pike tome Taken is riding high in the Best Seller charts. Which is all very well, but the neighborhood watch hotline in Crimezine HQ has been ringing off the hook once again, with gruesome tales of death and dismemberment.

Worse still, Crimezine has heard disturbing reports that the #1best selling author has been heard “singing”the Ozzy Ozbourne “hit” Craisie Train, (going off the rails) as he runs up Mulholland Drive in his skin-tight lycra leisure wear, with his pack of slavering attack dogs in close formation around him.

Eyebrows have been well and truly raised in the neighborhood, let me tell you, why only the other day, neighborhood grouch Jack Nicholson [who’s eyebrows are permanently raised] complained to Crimezine that TV pooch whisperer Cesar Millan had moved into the neighborhood, and what the hell were we going to do about it?

It took a great dial of liaising with Mulholland community cop Sgt Lex Polański and other neighborhood poobahs such as irascible Lahorei Liquor store proprietor Pervez Parania, before Crimezine was able to establish that the shortsighted Chinatown star and #1 Lakers fan Nicholson, was in fact referring to Craisie-train Crais, panting up the hillside with his attendant pack of canine compadres.

Naturally Crimezine sympathized with the Witches of Eastwick star, over what must have been a very traumatic experience for a sensitive thesp’ of his advancing years.

Which brings us neatly back to the news that curtain twitcher Crais was so eager to impart. Apparently one of his dog walking chumettes became the unwitting recipient of an early Halloween gift the other day, when her proud pooch retrieved a human head from the bushes on the Bronson Canyon dog walking trail. Yikes!

Further investigation revealed matching hands and feet, though the location of the rest of the zombified coyote meat is still something of a mystery. The area is known locally as the Bat cave, due to it’s fleeting appearance in the Batman series. It is a spooky locale for sure and you certainly wouldn’t want to pay it a visit on a Dark Knight [geddit?].

According to LAPD the gruesome body parts belong to unfortunate former airline steward Hervey Medellin. Naturally a second Cognac was called for as Crimzine and Crais bravely watched Armando the Guatemalan pool boy crane out yet another wrecked car from the deep end of Crimezines swimming pool. It is quite literally Murder living on Mulholland Drive.

Mulholland neighborhood watch has a Crimezine Christmas tempest.

James Patterson: Lifting the spirits of children

It has been a busy week on Mulholland Drive Crimeziners. The hurricane force winds that have been battering Los Angeles have caused siren blaring chaos on a city-wide scale, but nowhere has the whirlwind of damage and trauma been more keenly felt than on Mulholland Drive.

The streets most cantankerous senior Jack Nicholson has had his entire Christmas display blown from his roof, and we are not talking just flashing lights and a couple of amusing snow men here. The Chinatown star had a life sized Santa and Sleigh nailed to the eves, along with a full team of plastic glow in the dark reindeer.

When the tempest took the Nicholson display airborne, disappointed children from as far away as Pasadena jammed the switchboards at local news stations with reports that Santa Claus was on his way, before they had chance to compose their finely detailed demands for consumer durables and place the traditional ‘carrot for Rudolph’ under their collective Christmas trees. Sob!

Spectacular though it was seeing the Nicholson display soar into the Hollyweird night, along with various car crushing eucalyptus trees and an assorted selection of Jennifer Aniston’s lawn furniture, Crimezine is chastened at the thought of so many tiny tear stained pillows.

We can confirm however that James Patterson will be making the rounds of local Xmas Grotto’s dressed in full Santa garb to lift the spirits of the little ones, by doling out free copies of his latest festive book The Christmas Wedding.

Crimezine would obviously prefer some carcinogenic Chinese candy and a 10 cent plastic toy same as usual, but apparently it is not possible to cater to all ages and tastes at such events.

Meanwhile Crimezine has spent the past days retrieving Christmas decorations and lawn furniture from  all over Hollywood.  Witches of Eastwick star Nicholson  has promised to take us to the Patterson grotto in his newly acquired WWII German half-track, which has lifted our storm ravaged spirits immeasurably.

We fear however that the neighborhood watch will be writing a strongly worded letter of rebuke to the Postman Always Rings Twice star  as he has been warned about stockpiling military vehicles in his front yard on a number of occasions.

Mulholland Neighborhood watch tables an emergency Thanksgiving meeting, after complaints of Cretan folk dancing and reedy bouzouki music at the Jenifer Aniston Residence. Crimezines phone rings of the hook.

Thanksgiving in the Hollywood Hills and the euphonious tones of honking accordians and reedy Greek Bouzouki music are ringing out across Mullholland Drive.

Harken to the smash of plates and the musical lilt of Cretan folk dancing. Yes, voracious man vortex Jennifer Aniston is having yet another of her raucous parties, and her famous tractor beam charms are sucking in Hollywood Himbos from a tri county area. As you will imagine, parking on Mulholland, is even more dreadful than usual.

Bouzouki Menace on Mulholland

Crimezine understands from Mulholland’s irascible Lahori Liquor store proprietor Pervez Parania, that Aniston chums Matt le Blanc and Matthew Perry are visiting for the holidays, a report borne out, by the fact the shelves at the Lahori Liquor mart have been completely stripped of smooth-sippin’ Jack Daniels whiskey and all varieties Ben and Jerry’s ice-cream, which has been a major inconvenience for local residents this holiday weekend.

As Crimeziners will imagine when the Anastasakis clan are partying hearty next door, the neighborhood watch phone in Crimezine head quarters rings off the hook as a matter of course.

Robert, Keep the noise down Crais was the first to log a complaint, According to an irate message on our answer phone, the world’s greatest living crime writer was too stuffed with turkey and pumpkin pie to slip into his Lycra jogging gear and drop over for crisis talks and aperitifs,

Which is fortunate, or we would never have heard the end of it.

Meanwhile, neighborhood grouch Jack Nicholson, frustrated by the lack of Lakerly action at Staples Centre is out of town at the moment. Reports that he has been seen pepper spraying shoppers during an orgiastic Black Friday shopping spree, are unsubstantiated.

Neighborhood watch liaison Sgt Lex Polański of LAPD has tabled an emergency meeting of Neighborhood leaders, but unfortunately due to “deep, deep, discounts” at Bed Bath and Beyond this weekend, the required quorum for an emergency meeting could not be raised.

Crimezine resolved to send a over a gallon of ouzo and a dozen Domino’s Deep feast Feta cheese and hummus pizzas to Rancho Anastasakis and noticed with satisfaction, that the raucous barrage of Bazouki music tailed off considerably.

Mulholland Drive Neighborhood Watch: Booze addled starlets crash into Crimezine’s pool

Mulholland drive: watch out for Crimezines swimming pool ladies

Swimming pools: the ultimate status symbol. Or so one would suppose if you you live in the frost gorged nether reaches of our climatically challenged planet. The ugly truth at this weeks Mulholland Neighborhood Watch meeting, revealed a quite different picture.

Nestling, in the  Santa Monica Mountains overlooking Mulholland Drive and the glittering vista that is Hollywood, lies Crimezine HQ, the one stop shop for the myriad gripes of West LA’s most embattled residents. The Mulholland Neighboorhod Watch.

The usual vociferous suspects were in attendance at this weeks meeting: Robert, ‘keep the noise down’ Crais, tut-tuting as usual about the volume of the Crimezine stereo system. Also in attendance #1 Lakers fan and neighborhood grouch, Jack Nicholson, complaining this week about the double parked jam of cars outside the Aniston residence.

One assumes this was due to the unusually high number of ‘gentlemen callers’ the screeching rom-commer has been entertaining lately, although the wraith-like Justin Theroux has been spotted shambling around the neighborhood, looking like a ragged trick or treater, so one presumes there is still hope for Mulholland’s love match of the year. Local cynics have suggested that Theroux is only dating Mulholland’s most famous female resident, so he can remind himself of his past glories in David ‘out of space’ Lynch’s 2001 art house flick Mulholland Drive.

Crimezine is skeptical, as one fingered typist Theroux has been tippy-tap-taping out the screenplay for upcoming movie Rock of Ages to help out the large team of experienced writers already assigned to the project. The sallow faced thesp’ was unavailable for comment, but local gossip mongers should be aware that the actor has been ‘busy’ staring in such cinematic classics as Zoolander and Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle. So there.

Still, the swimming pool problem has been the most pressing one on Mulholland Drive this week.

Of course, actually swimming in ones pool is so unmentionably vulgar and passé that almost no one does it in Los Angeles these days, unless they have fallen into it, in a state of abject drunkeness, or they are an out of towner, looking to hide their ghastly and inappropriate choice of poolside attire.

Crimezine uses it’s swimming pool to collect  garbage, broken shopping carts and dead animals, that would other wise make the neighborhood untidy. A service that has earned frequent plaudits at Neighborhood Watch meetings. In recent weeks however, a disturbing number of booze addled starlets have been crashing their overpriced automobiles into the deep end of our pool.

We assumed that once Lindsay Lohan was safely ensconced in her new job at LA County Morgue, the high speed antics on Mulholland would cease. How wrong we were. This week alone we have craned out two Porsches, a Maserati and a Mercedes SL550. While we approve whole heartedly of overpriced super car ownership by West Hollywood’s most gormless teenagers, Crimezine would respectfully like to remind residents that the speed limit on Mulholland is 35mph. So keep the speed down bucko, and the noise too.

Contact Mulholland Neighborhood watch at crimeziner@gmail.com

Mulholland Drive neighborhood watch: Jack Nicholson goes postal as Detroit 187 is canned by ABC bean counters

http://www.nba.com/lakers/

http://abc.go.com/shows/detroit-1-8-7

Mulholland Drive: A world in chaos

With the NBA lock-out in it’s bazillionth week, LA’s #1 Lakers fan  Jack Nicholson has been using the free time to make a neighborhood nuisance of himself. The septuagenarian thesp and neighborhood grouch, has been cruising Mulholland Drive on his electronic senior scooter,  giant cigar in one hand and a vitamin enriched hot milky drink in the other.

Unable to vent his considerable ire on the  foes of the West Coast’s ball-bouncing behemoths  It would seem that the Chinatown star is seeking a new target on which to turn his considerable spleen. Surprisingly, it is not the constant parade of gawkers bussed in on a daily basis to gape at the front of his property, nor is it the throngs of Craisies who wait expectantly outside the home of  Robert Crais, the world’s greatest living crime writer, for the next masterful installment of the Cole and Pike saga.

The target of this legendary ire ? The bean counting suits at ABC television responsible for canceling Detroit 187. Apparently Jack has been using the show as a palliative, to take his mind off the chasming emptiness of a Lakers free Autumn. But now it is all over, and Jack is inconsolable. Crimezine understands that Mulholland’s Lahori Liquor Store proprietor Pervez Parania was responsible for breaking the news to Jack, a task that many stronger and more manful proteges of the movie legend have been ‘rain-checking’ for months.

Misty eyed Mulholland veterans at the recent Neighborhood Watch meeting compared the stars rampage to “the old days”, when Jack and Hunter S Thompson would race Marlon Brando and Warren Beatty down the street, with turret mounted 40 calibre machine guns and a dead elk head strapped to the front of their monster truck.

For the sake of local residents, Crimezine prays for a speedy resolution to the NBA debacle and joins Mr Nicholson in the fervant hope that the truly awesome  Detroit 187 will be picked up by far sighted  cable execs, in a similar way to that other Crimezine favorite Southland.