Thursday, January 10, 2008


Desert filing:

1. The head waiter (Bouffant Tim) at a restaurant that I (and most remaining Mafioso) frequent often when in LV REMEMBERED ME last night. This bodes well in my future plans to eventually move to Vegas and quick-marry a guy named Salvatore with a bouffant and an unquenchable thirst for raising a ruckus/protecting The Family. I’m practically a goddamn local already. I gave Tim a warm handshake (using both hands in a loving yet vaguely threatening grasp) and told him I’d see him in 9 weeks or so.

2. Toby Keith’s “I Love This Bar and Grill.” Still funny. Never stops being the truest words ever marketed.

3. The only thing on the local news tonight: A local man just had his thumb amputated and replaced with his big toe. The commercials re: Mr. ToeThumb have been running incessantly. Nevermind that Hil’s in town, and Obama arrives tomorrow.

4. The chair in my hotel room is half a foot too short for the desk. I have been typing to you via booster seat. My legs swing comically. I’m the Eloise of the Monte Carlo.

5. Pr0n convention starts tomorrow. Tera Patrick is throwing a party at the Venetian tonight. The only clothes I’ve packed are sensible Aerosole flats (which I’m wearing with socks?) and black work-suit type things. I’m pretty sure they’ll let me into the various Adult Video Awards shindigs dressed like a 65 year old substitute algebra teacher, if just for the comedic value of it. (I will be their makeover candidate! My porn name will be Eloise. I will be dressed in her classic jumper, but no shirt! Eww. I just grossed myself out. Do you think there are people who fetishize children's book characters? Porn Eloise? Babar as a furry? Oh God I am disgusting.)

6. Last day of the show floor: Saw Bumblebee. Was underwhelmed. Heard the Black Eyed Peas on loop in 45 different booths. Was overwhelmed.*

* The Motorola booth, beyond having BB’s** in white gogo boots, let you perform Humps or whatever in front of green screen and then inserted you into a Fergie video. As a backup dancer. It will go down as one of my life’s greatest regrets that I did not return to the booth before the day ended to get myself on video doing just this. Actually, I can’t talk about it anymore, I’m tearing up.

** I thought we all agreed that the booth babe thing was a dying trend, and that we were all moving towards Hot Business-suited Blonde Professional Demonstration Actors instead? When did the pleather miniskirts come back? Was there a committee meeting about this? Why wasn’t I informed? Anyway, convention fashion report in brief: The Sharp girls were mostly awesome in young/Community College /Admin Assistant wear (tall black pumps/tight Express shirts/black minis); the Real booth went “rave” or whatever (knotted Real tees/black ruffled minis/blue fishnet tights/pigtails), Motorola did Japanime/go-go boots, Hitachi went with all white suits and silver sequin tops with matching shoes (verrrrry fancy), some company I can’t remember were bedecked in knee-high boots and runner’s leggings with tight fleece jackets and no shirt (very bizarre), and basically, any automotive company went with straight-up lady o' the night gear. I thought I even saw some with whips, telling stereo transmitters they were very naughty stereo transmitters. Anyway. Did I do anything besides check out other women’s clothes all day? Neigh. When did this become a clothes blog? I don’t know, and I’m teary again. Now, I will kill myself by eating 8 McRibs. Take that, Dr. Phil.

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