And it IS signed, if you can believe that. I won’t tell you where it is, except that its content is the major clue. So just walk north on Highland and it will smack you in the face like smelly, old fish. This thing should have kept itself marching north until it was in the Valley. The establishment that commissioned this monstrosity has the word “Hollywood” in its name. What a travisty!!!
Someone must be sleeping with someone who’s sleeping with someone else for this amateurish attempt at airbushed art to be commissioned, only to become one of Hollywood’s grandest eyesores over night. White paint world have been much better- plain, white paint.
Now that every street in Hollywood is being developed into the Stone Age, one can walk a few blocks over and say, “My oversized crane kicks your oversized crane’s ass! See how high they got the American flag on ours?” And what’s with these old geezers standing around the cranes and staring at them like they were Faye Wray in the nude? At any rate, here’s MY crane:
That would be a fun job, except you have to climb all them stairs. Ol’ Russ don’t roll like that.