Ebola on the Roof
Last night, Roof II at the Park Hyatt, Toronto… it was already pretty busy when I got up there close to midnight. Full of film executive and agent types, overflowing with slime and cheese. At one point when we were on the patio, some douche came over to Sasha and me because he wanted to talk to the “Orientals”. Charming.
Having said that – we had an epic night. Sooo fun. Until that disease walked in and we needed to head to quarantine.
At around 2am, Paris Hilton arrives. She steps off the elevator, ciggie hanging from her mouth, and is escorted immediately into a corner section adjacent to another small patio. Several bottles of champagne are delivered to the table. As far as I could see, she was only with men… giggling, flirting, laughing, smoking incessantly.
I’m sorry to have to tell you she is not ugly. She’s not breathtaking but she’s not hard to look at either. She’s tall, thin, and has extremely large feet. In person they’re even bigger than they look in photos.
We tried to get Dylan to sacrifice his life and lance that sh-t just so we’d have a story to tell. He refused. So we left. Self preservation is key, you see. I have a lot of living to do. Didn’t want to cut my life short by infection.