Monday, July 31, 2006

we are all made of stars


ok, first let me say this: i'm goofy about celebrities. however, with the exception of an ill-timed attempt to take camera photos of two 'buffy the vampire slayer' actresses as they got into their car at valet, i keep the shit together. i observe the unwritten rule that you do not notice the celebrity -- or, rather, you pretend not to notice the celebrity. some friends would say my googly eyes and not-so-subtle neck-craning actually violates that rule, but i say 'feh.' and 'move the hell out of my way---i can't get a good luck at charo with your fat ass in my face.'

anyhoo, i grew up in the sticks of south carolina, so i suspect it will always be a thrill to see celebrities up close and personal. we just didn't have any in my neck of the woods, and we had to be content to look at grainy pics of them in the first few pages of people magazine. yes, i spent more than one afternoon poring over back issues of people magazine while my friends & relatives were busy shooting something. i even spent an afternoon reading 'mommie dearest' in a boat in the middle of a duck pond with guns going off in the front and the back of the boat. but that is another story for another time.

now, to the point of this post. last night at the arclight---ground zero for a certain kind of celebrity, i've come to find---i hit the motherlode. i've posted a clue as to what motherlode i actually hit at the head of this post (it's tricky, but so am i). i will reveal it to you in another post when i am not ensconced at a hilton garden inn in the northern suburbs of san diego, running late for a chinese dinner in a nearby strip mall.

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