This is Victor. I asked permission to use his name and his face; and in a thick Moscow accent he replied, "Use my fucking phone number, I don't care." Victor is a crazy Russian artist, which is a triple redundancy. Notice the device on his left leg. That's an alcohol monitor. It can detect any amount of booze that Victor consumes. It does so by sampling Victor's sweat. He has to wear this thing clamped to his shin for three months—and not drink any alcohol. For a Russian, it's worse than the death penalty. Why is he here? From what I could gather, there was dental surgery gone-awry, DUI, hit-and-run, and resisting arrest.His teeth were hurting so much that he just had to, "drink and drink and drink." The police came to his house after he got home without knowing how, and when they tried to arrest him, he could not hold up one of his hands because of carpal-tunnel (his day job is graphic design.)
I was not aware that you could buy a popsicle that had chile pepper and salt suspended in it. I was expecting a refreshing melon treat after sweeping the Boulevard, but this thing made me want to eat it faster and faster to quench the fire. In the end, my mouth was kind of sore and I had brain freeze. Good though, and only 85 cents at the corner of Hollywood Boulevard and St. Andrews Place.
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