Please don't talk too loudly, Your Faithful Correspondent is nursing a massive headache (more on that in a moment).
The Vanity Fair after-party was a delight. Everybody who was anybody was there and of course, Your Faithful Correspondent was the belle of the ball. Err, the beau of the ball. Umm, the star of the show? The life of the party? Yep, that's it. YFC was the life of the party. Liza and YFC did a karaoke duet of Arthur's Theme that killed. Then, after a little squabble with Jack (he's always has to prove he's a tough guy. YFC's verdict? Poseur.), we did about a dozen or so tequila shooters. It was so refreshingly retro! Once properly filled with liquid courage, it was time for YFC to get his groove on. He wasn't out on the floor for more than five minutes before Paris started grinding on YFC in ways that really shouldn't be described in a family blog.
Fair warning: lurid details of partying follow. Continue reading at your own risk.
So are you digging the scene kids? Pretty people, free-flowing Cristal and YFC with the opportunity to get his freak on. But then, out of the blue, a Thought Bubble appeared above his head (or was it in his head? Not sure really, the lighting at those parties is always terrible):
Thought Bubble: "Wait a minute, what are you doing?"
YFC: Go away Thought Bubble.
Thought Bubble: "But you don't even like blondes."
YFC: Shut-up Thought Bubble! YFC deserves to have a little fun once in a while. And anyhow, someone is jonesing for a little room service breakfast in a Hilton, if you catch my drift. Sadly, when YFC drinks, everyone catches his drift as all pretense for subtlety goes out the window.
Thought Bubble: "But think about the children..."
And then something miraculous happened. YFC did think about the children, or more accurately, he thought about one child in particular. Leaping from the dance floor, he tried to make a quick exit, but he was surrounded by what seemed to be the entire female ensemble of Dawson's Creek. YFC yelled "look, isn't that Zac Efron?" -- a classic misdirection ploy. While they were trying to scope out the star of High School Musical, YFC quickly ran in the opposite direction. His eyes widened like saucers as he made his way toward freedom, only to be cornered by a very aggressive Paris. Apparently, she's not the type who is used to rejection, and the slight only seemed to fuel her desire. Finally YFC looked at her in the eyes and said "Paris, there's a little girl who needs me. I'm sorry but it's just not going to happen." Paris was crestfallen and began to softly weep. YFC was almost out the door, when he saw her teary eyes and YFC knew that he needed to say a few parting words to comfort the desolate heiress:
"For G-d's sake, put some panties on!"
And with that YFC crawled into his waiting limo (complimentary, natch) and made his way back home.
So now, Your Faithful Correspondent is safely at home nursing a pounding headache (tequila shooters will do that to you...why must they be so deliciously delicious?). But with the words of Thought Bubble resonating in his noggin, he presses on....for the children....
You see Dear Reader, as mentioned in the previous edition of The Chronicle, lists are always a bad idea. It didn't help Ross from Friends and it certainly didn't help YFC, who, but for his penchant for making lists, would be having a mushroom and cheese omelette and fresh-squeezed oj served to him, tomorrow morning, at a Hilton near you (well near Pap anyway). Sadly, some rather important people were neglected in the last list, so, while this will not be comprehensive, it's incumbent that we begin with:
Zoe (age 5)/Ting/Steve: Zoe and her parents traveled all the way the Biggest Little City in the World to spend time with Mom. Melvin is Zoe's G-dmother and Mom (who Zoe knows as "Shanti") is Zoe's Fairy G-dmother. This brings to mind a story...when Zoe was talking to Mom, she asked whether Mom still had
a sickness in her tummy. When Mom replied in the affirmative, Zoe said "kick it in the butt. Kick it in the wiener." Mom made a point to do just that, and she seems well on the road to recovery. Nice call Zo'.Neighbor Mark (and Lori too): Sure he steals Mom's newspaper (didn't think anyone knew about it, did ya? YFC is kinda like Santa Claus knowing who's been naughty and who's been nice) but he almost always gives it back. But no coal in his stocking, he often entertains Mom with his yarns about Milwaukee and takes her for the occasional dinner too. For a former slumlord, he's really quite a decent sort.
Jeni: Left the comfort of her Montana yurt to visit Mom in the big city of Chicago. She also got Mom hooked-up with her herbalist. Truly a very special young woman.
Honey Joy: Can you tell by her name that her parents were happy they had her? Well, Mom is pretty happy they had her too. She makes the drive from Naperville to see Mom, and if YFC's calculations are correct, that's pretty much like traveling from Swaziland.
Jourene: Says daily prayers for Mom. She was a former nun, so one has to think she's got a little residual pull.
Lisa: Always supportive. Always positive. Always bubbly. Lovely flowers. Lovely smile. Lovely girl. 'Nuf ced.
Eli: When he's not looking down in the mouth (that's a little dental humor) he's can be found praying for Mom's recovery.
Tricia Eldridge: Mom's energy healer who lives in Lowell, Michigan. She's been working hard behind the scenes. Seems like she might need an anagram soon (hmm...Idled Geriatric or A Rigid Derelict?).
Doctor Ann Mellott a/k/a Troll Named Cotton: Last but most certainly not least, Mom's oncologist. What more is there to say other than that Mom's doing great? Clearly the lady's got skillz.
Finally, a shameless plea for the e-mail recipients to occasionally peruse the blog. There's a poll up and you can help to shake the new slogan for 2008. Make sure you click the above link and vote early and vote often.
Your Faithful Correspondent is dreadfully tired. Not looking forward to the inevitable hangover.
Till we meet again...
Faithfully,
Corey
P.S.
It turns out that the Thought Bubble was actually none other than Emmanuel Lewis, formerly of the tv show Webster. It seems that he perched himself on YFC's shoulder, not unlike a guardian angel of sorts. Not sure how he made it past security in the first place...Vanity Fair was strictly an A-list crowd (my sources are now telling me that he allegedly hid under a particularly billowy dress worn by Eva Longoria). Anyhow, YFC will forever have a soft-spot for you Webster.
Peace out.
No comments:
Post a Comment