Warren Zevon, rocker beloved of writers (Hunter Thompson, Paul Muldoon, many others), had that writer’s eye and ear for telling details. So you listen to a Zevon song, and you’re in the Hollywood Hawaiian Hotel,* drinking up all the salty margaritas in Los Angeles and listening to the air conditioner hum while you think about the girl you met at the Rainbow Bar; she took you back to the Hyatt House and…well, you don’t really want to talk about it.

Don’t look for the Pioneer Chicken Stand down on Alvarado Street, it’s apparently gone, and the man with the goods has certainly moved on to another locale, but, if you happen to be walking through SoHo (London version) in the rain, apparently you can drop by Le Ho Fooks, get a big dish of beef chow mein, then wash it down with a pina colada at Trader Vic’s. An intrepid blogger has logged the evidence:

And they were doin’ the Werewolves of London….

Now if I could just figure out where the Double-E runs…poor poor pitiful me.

Steve

*Sad to say, the Hollywood Hawaiian Hotel has apparently been converted into the Princess Grace Apartments. No, I’m not making that up.