Oh, the weird shit you hear about living in Hollyweirdland.
This story takes the cake. Read on and relish:
Last week, Charlie and Hunter (pictured) were looking around West Hollywood for a new place. They saw a sign for a nice guest house on Genessee and Willoughby, Near Fairfax in West Hollywood. So they went in and met the owner/landlady. She was an old woman, wearing big sunglasses. She introduced herself.
“I’m Faye. Faye DUNAWAY”(emphasis hers).
She showed them around and asked them what they do. Charlie says he told her they owned and managed a “nightclub” in Silverlake. For those of you who don’t know, Charlie and Hunter own The LA Eagle. Anyway, Charlie says she was just intrigued by that and said (grinning with CLENCHED teeth, very Joanish) “Oh yes I love the Silverlake club scene. It’s just FUN”
So a little checking and gossip later, I come to learn, through stories of other people who live in the very middle class neighborhood in the flats of West Hollywood, that she’s the local nutcase. The neigborhood refers to her as “crazy Faye” – she stands on her front lawn in kaftans screaming at the local kids to quiet down and not ride their bikes on her sidewalk. Evidently she lost a lot of her money in some bad investments, and she’s cracked. This checks with my own experiences with La Dunaway, whenever I see her at the movies or whatever, she always looks ratty and…well crazy. I always resist the urge to scream “No wire hangers EVERRRRRRR” but I’m afraid of her lunging for my jugular. She always looks like she could and would.
So I asked Charlie last night what’s happened so far, and he said that she called him yesterday to ask if they’re still interested. It was very weird to take a call from Faye fuckin Dunaway, he said.
Could you just imagine……
PAY TO THE ORDER OF FAYE DUNAWAY
FOR: RENT aaannnnndd ……WIRE COAT HANGERS!!!!! AAAARRRGGGHHHH!