Last night, I went to the anti-war protest in Hollywood at Hollywood Blvd. and Highland.

I'm not a warblogger (I swear!) but I kinda wanted to do something like this, but not like this. You can see the photos I took by clicking the pic to the right.

My reporter's skills are even worse than my photog skills, but practice makes perfect. Looking for my first interviewee, I decided to warm up with two older ladies who were carrying "War is not the Answer" signs. I asked them the logical question, "So, what is the answer?" "Peace" was the answer. They turned out to think that we shouldn't interfere in Iraq. According to them, if the U.S. was under an oppresive regime, we wouldn't want someone to come in and liberate us. Not only that, but if the Iraqis want a regime change according to them the Iraqis should protest, "just like we're doing here." At that point, I thanked them for their time and moved on.

My next interviewee suggested that Bush knew about 9/11 before it happened. Apparently, he allowed it to happen so we could go into Afghanistan and get their oil. I was referred to various web sites in order to find all of the various forms of proof.

Continuing down Hollywood Blvd., I paused briefly to shoot good ol' Saint X*nu.

Returning to the protest, I spotted an old geezer standing in front of a cardboard coffin with "Sanctions Kill" written on it. I couldn't quite figure out whether he was a protester, or a street person just hanging out. After asking him if that was his coffin, and then asking him if he knew how much money Saddam recently put on deposit in Libya, I was gifted with a 2 minute, 500 word harangue. If I could remember all his points, I would surely print it. After I finally was able to get a word in, apparently my smirking manner had struck a nerve. As he finished something like "it's all about the oil, just to make people rich," he ended with "for fucking assholes like you." Then, he grabbed his coffin and stalked off.

I took a few more photos, but due to it being night and my camera's batteries running down, most of them didn't come out too well. One of the missed shots was of a little girl whose mom had propped her up on a newsrack with her own sign, kinda like the shots of those kids here.

While the protest itself was quite entertaining, truly the highlight of the night came when a limo rolled up, and an attractive young lady inside asked me if Mr. Bush would mind if she showed her tits. Happily, Mr. Bush did not mind, but unfortunately by that time my camera's batteries had died.

Next time, I'll bring fresh batteries and a tape recorder so I can record the wisdom of the Not in Our Brain sages.