So I grew up in metroblogs’ Chicago beat and was unfamiliar with the whole beloved Boston duck phenomenon until a college roommate hipped me to it. But I’m on my way home from a fitting near the beach last night and damned if five or six ducks didn’t decide, “Hey! Screw the light! And to hell with these wings! Let’s walk across the street RIGHT NOW!!!!”
Only this being L.A., the street was Venice Boulevard and this being 2005, I have a handy-dandy digital camera in my car to take a pic of the ducks for blogging.la. Only as I reach for the camera, I see that the very attractive occupant of the car next to me is, in fact, a very attractive TV star and suddenly, I get all self-conscious about pulling out a camera, thinking “what if she thinks I’m taking a picture of her? I don’t want her to think I’m some tourist…”
So no picture of incredibly fat, hilarious ducks waddling across Venice Blvd from the canal to…where, exactly?
And definitely no picture of very attractive TV star. Hey, if you want that stuff, head on over to someplace where they serve up Actual Celebrity Dish.