cut and paste, and a brush with celebs

this one excerpt from an email I sent to my good friend Michelle. Thanks Chelle. Just don't have time to elaborate or even sit here and type....it's a little old, happened about 2yrs ago..



I do have a small story to tell you....Gerry calls me one fine day to say that he is just coming home from a flight and will be taking Ed Norton and his girlfriend around the area for a but of a tour and do I mind switching cars with him as mine has the aircon and is a bit nicer....I say yes with a bit of trepidation as I am very well aware of the smell of sour milk (from my stuuupid coffee cup tipping over) and the french fry laden back seat.....well, McDonalds be dammned(perdone la francais)...I took the car over to them anyway and saw my Gerry walking over to me and fortunately he was alone. This gave us time to sweep out the chippy farm from under the car seats and switch them around abit...if only I had room freshener, or even hairspray might impove the situation a tad...but alas, my hair does not get the 80's aerosol that it used to....however, having done what we could, we then walk over to this tiny little couple, I mean, they are so small, and healthy...as I choked back on my double fat-double caff-three-times-the-foam and twice-the-sugar(hold the aspartame please!) iced cappucino, I noticed that the man was vaguely familiar...gulp, wipe the mocha-stache from my lip and then wipe my hand on my obliques, or what used to be obliques, now it is just a spare tire covered in a slopy tshirt... and jut my chin forward in my best 'I'm so confident, I meant to look like this' look and shake hands with Edward Norton, who then introduces me to his 'friend' barbie, or bimbi, or brandy or some such pseudo name. Nice to meet you. nice to meet you.....we chat as we saunter over to the bank machines, the celeb type also use the atm. more chatting, but as we walk I begin to feel like a huge massive giant oak/elm/redwood, next to their grassblade bodies with absolutly no fat near them. As I look behind me I'm sure that I see an ooze trail that a giant slug would leave behind and it's coming from my general direction..wait, it's coming from me....I have turned into a giant slug next to these ultra-light, ultra-hip, no-fat, half-caffed, double-jointed, granola-eating, save the whales, type of aerobic activity people....oh, well, good thing I have my chin jutted out or they might discover that I feel like a sweaty retard who stores McDonalds chippies in the back seat of my car. As I dismiss the horror of the ooze behind me we arrive back at my car and they offer an obligitory, 'why don't you come along, you should have brought the children' I say farewell, bid them adieu and hope noone slips on my slug drippings. Man, I felt huge next to these people they were so ultra healthy. And, in fact, they were very quiet and polite. It was all in my mind the silliness of self esteem.... well, that's my only real brush to celebs..... Gerry did ask Mel Gibsons wife and youngest son over to dinner one eveninig. their boy is around Alecs age...6/7/8yrs. I was like, serving spagetti! I think I would have died knowing I served up a plate of bolognaise to Mrs Gibson.....geesh! However, she declined as they had been flying all day and had an early start in the morning over to Sydney. I think she actually might have accepted for her sons sake to play with someone, but perhaps another time. They have, after all bought their own private island nearby!