Beyond Bells, Borat, Billionaires, Barbra and Brooke

November 01, 2006

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Monday night I went to a screening of Borat at the Time Warner Center for a small crowd that can best be described as intense. There were two billionaires in my row, lemme put it that way. The movie is so freaking funny that it doesn't matter who you see it with -- just see it. I was obsessing afterwords about what in the film is real and what isn't. But its pretty obvious that all the stuff with the real Americans is as real as it gets. How do people still fall for it and not recognize him? I reckon that there are tons upon tons of people who don't get HBO and this is proof.

Oh hey, by the way, before I continue with today's rambler of a blog, lemme plug that I am on the internet chat show Ring My Bell this afternoon so call in between 11-12 PST or log on to RingMyBell.tv.

I am a big Halloween guy -- I usually love it but this year has been problematic for me, costume-wise. I flew to LA yesterday with an invite to Heidi Klum's annual Halloween Party in hand. The problem was that I had no costume. I wanted to go as a Cardinal but, in my crazed state the last few days, I did not procure baseball pants. I pondered taking the easy way out with a sharpie to my neck for an instant Jeff Sebelia, but I thought it was too low-concept. Not only did I not go to the party, I didn't even make it to Santa Monica Blvd to see the insanity. You know what, you can't do everything.

A hotel-bound night is sometimes just what the doctor ordered. Beyond screening episode seven of Top Chef (loved it) and two episodes of "Real Housewives of Orange County" (which is better than last season -- can't wait for it to be on), I had some good phone time in which I inadvertantly got to the bottom of the Barbra Streisand drink-throwing incident at her concert Monday night in Ft. Lauderdale. It turns out I randomly kind of know the guy who threw the drink at Streisand. What are the chances of that?

The low point of Halloween was when I had the displeasure of watching ET, which routinely gives me gas bubbles and a migrane. It is weirdly fascinating that this particular show represents my trash-loving breaking point. Somehow it is this program that represents, above all others, crossing the line beyond the mass of crap that I find acceptable towards that which is just the wooorst.

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