Jodie Foster will kill the President for me.

8.28.06
4:01 PM
What an interesting weekend. Saturday started with me at Ray’s to record some very badly written voiceover for some shitty product called TagAlert. Ray and I ended up rewriting most of it. After that was Lauren’s Birthday Extravaganza. It started with dinner in the Rape Zone at a place called The Park. During dinner, Angelica (who is a third year med student) told me about a 395 pound illegal immigrant woman whose surgery she had to assist with. Now, we’ve all seen doctor movies where people assist with surgery by handing people things, wiping sweat off people’s brows etc, for this particular surgery, Ange had to be a human brace for this woman’s fat rolls. This consisted of her throwing her body over the bulk of this leviathan and using HER WHOLE BODY to hold the rolls back. The surgeon planned to remove a 25 pound, 2 foot long, 6 inch thick strip of fat from this woman’s midsection because that would give her enough mobility to (hopefully) start exercising and lose some weight. Anyway, the doctor that performed the surgery had a pretty sick sense of humor. He was overheard saying things like, “Naw, she’s too skinny for me”, “I would totally hit that” and other colorful phrases. At the end of the 8 hour procedure, the presiding surgeon told the nurses to get a baby scale because he wanted to know how much he had removed. At that point, he HEAVED the 25 pound carpet of fat at the assisting surgeon and said, “That’s your girlfriend.” After this 8 hour period pressed against this open tub of guts, she was covered in blood and fat, and then, had to push an old Black man’s anus back into his rectum. This all happen in one 26 hour shift. A post script I must add: three weeks later, the woman (who was supposed to come back every three days for check ups) returned with a massive infection and Ange had to assist to removal of several more pounds of infected tissue, fat and pus from this woman’s stomach.
After she told me this story, I immediately ordered a crème brule and said I wanted to be a doctor. She informed me that I don’t. I paused, thought about it and decided she was right, I didn’t want to be a doctor, I wanted to recount her doctor stories to everyone I know.
And I will.
Once dinner ended, Lauren demanded we go to Red Rocks since Ange and I had ruined her dessert (it was an apple cobbler that began to look a lot like infected tissue, fat and pus once Ange’s story continued…). I was told it was a biker bar without bikers.
Hm, I thought, hm.
Inside we saw scantily clad biker bitch bartenders doing strange things with dildo guns. The less said the better.
Now, concurrent with these events, Christina was at the wrap party for the movie she has been working on. It was happening in Pressure, a club right above Bowlmore Lanes…where the third phase of Lauren’s Birthday Extravaganza was to take place. Once we arrived at the bowling alley, I was informed that it would be a 45 minute wait for a lane. I decided to meet Chris at the party. She escorted me in, offered me champagne, caviar, and anything I wanted from the lobster, meat or sundae bars. I was impressed…a little. The first thing I noticed was the Karaoke.
Now, I don’t do Karaoke. I don’t do Karaoke because I can’t sing very well and because I can’t see the huge fucking screen with the lyrics. I have done it twice before in my life, (both times with songs I knew by heart) sober on MTV’s Say What? Karaoke (Eminem’s “My Name Is”) and drunk at Heather DuChame’s graduation party (Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody”). I don’t know why I wanted to do it now, maybe because Chris seemed a bit bored/isolated at the party, maybe because I thought the people up there sucked or maybe because I didn’t know any of these people and Chris was never going to see them again after this week so I figured I would blow their minds a little and give them a glimpse of the Paulitosphere. Whatever the case, Christina was VERY uncomfortable about the idea of me getting up and doing Karaoke by myself. I mean, she knows maybe a dozen people on this film and I ‘m her guest, you know? So I suggested we sing something together. After a quick perusal of their selection, we noticed that it sucked…then we found “Take Your Mama” by the Scissor Sisters.
Long story short…we quickly gained the approval of the audience and were told we had to go back up. After deciding upon “Time Warp” from Rocky Horror, we did. After that performance (which Jodie Foster witnessed in a state comprised half of trepidation and half of sheer, animalistic lust) we left the stage, never to return again…or did we? Again we were told to return to the stage and we closed our mndfucking set with the Beatles’ “Twist and Shout”. I screamed a lot.
Other highlights from that evening included seeing Jodie Foster’s drunken stunt double (as in her stunt double was drunk, not the stunt double used specifically for when Jodie Foster’s character is drunk…) sing “My Sherona”, seeing two people from the locations department sing “Fuck Her Gently”, scaring Jodie Foster away after “Time Warp” (she was going to sing right after us and backed down but came back a song later and did “Break Another Little Piece of My Heart” by Janis Joplin with a Cosmopolitan in her hand. It was adorable.), finding out that all the Karaoke was being shown on huge projection screens all over the party and, finally, hearing Neil Jordan’s wife say she was going to contact the Coen Brothers to do a movie about us. That last one is a direct quote and, I think, the coolest fucking compliment I have ever received. Also, the Shirley Temples were excellent.
Sunday was spent recuperating, brunching with Chris and Kelly and watching “Mulholland Drive”. Afterwards, Chris blew the whole mystery open for us and now I love her even more.
This was one for the books, folks.
One for the Sexy Good Weekend books.