So I’m at this blogging conference in New York a couple weeks ago and I end up at this party hosted by some chick and her friends at some bar on Columbus Circle, although why we continue to egregiously celebrate Wrong Way Roger by erecting statues in the middle of the roadway around which people must drive is beyond me, but I digress.
I’m with Robyn of Robyn’s Online World and Connie of Brain Foggles and they decide to come with me and “crash” the party since they are not “on the list”. When we arrive, there are several young, large, muscular, black-T-shirted men who are asking questions at the door and I’ve already decided that I want to be a rebel and crash this party too. Even though I’m on the list.
As we approach the door, one of the black-shirted, clipboard-carrying, tanned robots turns his head away from us and we literally sidle along the wall and walk in and I feel like I’ve gotten away with a bank robbery. Even though I’m on the list. I got to experience the adrenaline rush of “crashing”. Man I never felt so alive!
Anyway, Gavin DeGraw is near the window overlooking Wrong Way Roger and the place is filled with writhing and screaming women. I know you don’t believe me when I say I just walked into a bar and there is Gavin DeGraw but I snapped this picture to prove it.
It totally looks like him, right? Maybe next time you won’t be all up on your high horse talking all, “Margaret is a big fat liar”.
Whaddya mean it doesn’t look like him? Is it the angle? It’s the angle, isn’t it. I figured this would happen because I can’t seem to figure out how to use a “point and shoot” despite the eponymous type of camera, so I invariably take twelve pictures of everything in the hopes that one might turn out OK. So how about this one?
Does this look like him? (The guy on the right, I mean.)
But who cares about celebrity sightings, right? You want to know how I became a supermodel. Well, so at this party, which was sponsored by some place that makes razors, they had these crazy skinny models who I think are in the Guinness Book of Records for the longest legs in the world.
These are the Schick Girls. More like Stick Girls, if you ask me.
So anyway, these Stick Chicks call out to me and ask if I want to be their leader and I say, No way! And they say Way! And I say No Way! And we go back and forth like that for about half an hour. So I cave and sign a lucrative multi-million dollar contract – well that’s redundant, isn’t it – I mean since when is a multi-million dollar contract not lucrative? I probably just should have said multi-million dollar, but then that’s semi-specific and not really any of your business, so maybe I just should have said lucrative, but then lucrative is a relative term and you might have thought that $10,000 was lucrative and I’d want you to know that it was multiples of millions. In fact, I don’t want you to minimize it and think it was only 2 or 3 million when it was more like $14.8 million.
And I suppose you want proof of that too, so here you go…
Not that that will satisfy you because there is no satisfying you people, I swear.
My point here is that until someone pays me multiples of millions for blogging, I’m stuck posing with sticks for a while.