As a writer, you observe, you listen and you write shit down.
Over the past few weeks I have attended a variety of parties and events where I have hung out (next to) a variety of A-level, B-level and C-level stars. Some events have been book signings (read: Pamela Anderson), others have been parties (read: Hollywood hills) and others have been ice cream shop stops (read: Ben & Jerry’s). In every situation, I have come in contact with a variety of male stars who seem to be more than forthcoming (or they just talk way too loud) about their current obsessions. Check them out:
At at Sunset Boulevard eatery, Ashton Kucher’s friend Dax Shepard from the upcoming Without a Paddle tells a female friend that he loves to challenge himself by putting two deflated balloons in his nostrils, then pinches his nose closed and “blows those babies up until he feels like his head is going to burst”. He does it daily, before he leaves the house, as a way to “release the pressure within”.
At a party in the Hollywood Hills, drunk-off-his-ass and thrown-out-on-his-ass by his ex-wife (Jennifer Garner), Scott Foley of Felicity fame is more than happy to tell the guy making him a Red Bull/Vodka drink that he loves to push his socks down around his ankles. He’s not one of those “pull up your socks to your knees, kind of guys” but instead loves to “shove those cotton munchers down to ankle-land”. He proceeds to show a friend just what he means, lifting up his khakis and allowing all to see his bony, bare knees.
At a Barnes & Noble bookstore in Westwood, magazine-peruser and soon-to-be movie-tennis pro Paul Bettany flips through a copy of “Tattoo Magazine” telling a pierced buddy that he “loves to see the freaks with tattoos because it makes him feel proud of his blemish-free skin” and that if he ever ran into “a tattoo-wearing freak” he would be sure to show them his soft-to-the-touch baby-like skin that she [Jennifer Connolly] loves so much, as a way to possibly encourage them to have the ink, laser-removed. He buys four copies of the same mag, saying that he needs to have them “plastered on his trailer’s walls” as a way to constantly convince himself he’s got “baby-soft skin”.
In line for a screening of Collateral, psychotic Gary Shandling uses a shoulder-mounted mirror to check how the back of his head looks. He has no qualms about anyone seeing him use it either. The shoulder-mounted back-head viewer comes with a flourescent light, he tells his female companion, so he can “check out the current status of his head no matter if he’s in a department store or a darkened movie theater…”.
At a Valley sandwich joint, Encino-man himself Brendan Fraser laughs about the four “motion-sickness bands” he wears on each wrist, telling the not-so-interested woman at the counter that he “can’t go a day without having motion sickness bands on his wrists” or else he will “get dizzy, fall down, and not be able to get up without calling for professional help.” He proceeds to take off one motion-sickness band, wavers like he’s going to fall, then puts it back on and says, “See! Just like I said!”. He then collects his sandwich with a side of cole-slaw and stumbles to his booth.
At Pamela Anderson’s book signing, bloated Corey Feldman discusses his obession for flossing his teeth before dinner, after dinner (but before dessert) and after dessert. He is an extremely big fan of those plastic spear floss devices that have a small piece of floss threaded between the plastic arms. He says, “Floss is boss.”
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In other news, the fight with Freddie Prinze, Jr. has reached epic proportions. I ran into Sarah Michelle Gellar this past Saturday night at Los Angeles sushi restaurant “Hamasaku” and she proceeded to sit herself as far away from me as possible — refusing to lock eyes or discuss the current “silence” between me and her boy even after I threw some wet chunks of wasabe at her.
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