Friends In Low Places

It's been quite a ride this week. I've been working damn hard, to the extent that I haven't read Perez Hilton once in almost 5 days! That must be some kind of record for me. Feel free to comment and update me on the most important tinseltown gossip. I did see Ashton Kutcher though, at the London premier of What Happens in Vegas. Unfortunately it was a rather unremarkable sighting. He got out the car in front of the Empire in Leicester Square - not a limo, just a car - wearing dark glasses and a brown leather jacket, and ambled around signing autographs for a bit. Wait, scratch that - he was ushered around to sign autographs. There was actually an aide there directing him to various parts of the crowd. If it was me I would told her where she could shove her ushering. I know celebs are not like us, but don't tell me they're unable to walk around a perimeter and scrawl signatures independently of their handlers? They can't be that stupid, unless they're Paris Hilton. She probably has someone telling her when to breathe. It was far more entertaining to watch the crowd than the actual red carpet gliders. Pockets of teenage girls scattered about the square screamed themselves hoarse, and then took it up yet another notch whenever Ashton started in their direction. We can watch from our office windows, thereby avoiding the craziness of the crowd. It's really not that cool though, and that's coming from me; the girl who is practically the reason that tabloids were invented. Long live Heat magazine!

I've written so many posts in my head this week, in the hope that at some point I'd have a chance to type one out. No dice though, and of course I can't really remember any of what I wanted to say now! Instead, I'll leave you with the e-mail conversation that has been keeping me entertained all afternoon. My friends are a bunch of alcoholics, with a little perversion thrown in for good measure. Enjoy - I did!

Britney: Hi you guys, we're having the first braai of the summer tomorrow lunch time at Wimbledon park. Can you guys make it? Its going to be 21 degrees so we can chill in the park.
Mandz: Sounds good - what time?
Britney: Excellent! Was thinking about 3 but you guys can go earlier. Barbie and I have to go and buy some goldfish for the fish tank.
Scarf: The footie is on so we'll only get there just after 3, but for sure.
Neutrino: GODDAM FOOTBALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Scarf: HELLOOOO! Its like the MATCH of the SEASON! Tomorrow’s game determines who WINS the Premier league!!!
Shoes: Yeah Neutrino, stop being gay.
OJ: It's ALWAYS match of the season to you people!
Lopz: Fine you guys. Who wants to go early with me? Everyone in favour of shunning the footie say aye.
Mello: Aye!
Mandz: I'll come with you Lopz.
OJ: Me too.
Lopz: Cool, we'll get a tan first.
Scarf: Girls, are you guys wearing bikinis?????????? Don’t you think that’s a little bit too, er, like optimistic – I know its 20 degrees but is that warm enough to tan?? Or am I just forgetting what sun is like cuz I haven’t felt it for so long!
Lopz: Who said anything about bikinis?
Britney: No guys, not bikinis, just short tops.... it's not that hot!
Lopz: What's the difference, if it's too cold for bikinis, it's too cold for short tops!
Neutrino: I'm wearing my G-String ... can't start the summer with white bumcheeks.
Shoes: Neutrino. Dude. GAY!
Mandz: Hehehehehe, I can't get off this image of Neutrino in a G-String...
Scarf: Is everyone bringing booze?
Lopz: Is the pope catholic?
Mello: Of course, what's a day without the alchoholic beverages!
Barbie: Alcohol yeeessssss!
Mello: Mmmmmmm alcohol....
Lopz: Yes Mello you just said that.
Britney: Yeah dooooofus, what kind of question is that?
Scarf: TO THE PARK! TO THE SUN! TO THE ALCOHOL!

Lopz: And you wonder why Great Britain has a binge drinking problem.
OJ: I'm going au-natural.
Mello: From naked bum to naked body.... with cherry liquer on top.
Mandz: Hehehe, bums bums everywhere.....
Britney: Ewwww OJ in his birthday suit………..put it away OJ!
Mello: Not to mention the naked bods....
OJ: Hey you gotta tan your shlong somehow!
Neutrino: How do these conversations always get so twisted?
Lopz: Perverts, all of you.
OJ: Would you have it any other way?
Lopz: No, I suppose not.
Britney: You really don’t need to tan it dude - trust me, no one wants to see that thing (besides G-Days maybe).
Shoes: G to the A to the Y spells GAY!
OJ: It'll be like a hot-dog day!
Lopz: Amazing how I never seem to feel like eating after talking to you lot. With friends like you who needs diets?
OJ: Glad we can be of service Lopz!