Car bombs and blow jobs

Some of you (and by "you," I'm referring to the approximately 4 people who read my posts) may be wondering why someone who calls herself Hollywood Sucker writes so little about Hollywood, and so much about her boring ol' life.

Well, first of all, Hollywood is annoying. Secondly, I am not so immersed in all of that any more. Not that I ever was hanging at the cool table with Ms. Lohan, but I used to work at a job much more in the trenches. And I would have had loads of stories of why celebrities are nuts, and how most scripts are really terrible and 95% of writers suck. But then a few months ago I got fed up and so I took a job on the peripheral of the entertainment industry. And thus, my life is now focused on Ikea furniture, my cats, what I'm going to eat for lunch/dinner, and what I'm watching on tv.

One can not live in LA, however, without still coming across the Hollywood lifestyle you hear so much about on E! or Extra. This was the case SORT OF on Friday.

But first there is back story. About 2 months ago, I was with the boyfriend and a bunch of friends, standing in line to see a show at UCB. My friend Tomas, ever the flirt, strikes up a conversation with the girls standing behind us. Because I don't care when other people are getting hit on (who does?), I don't pay much attention and resume conversation with the rest of the group.

Cut to Friday night. My sister calls me to say that Tomas has been given $300 to take everyone out to the bar, but we all have to drink baileys and he is going to film the whole thing. Huh? "Yeah I don't really get it," she says. And I don't get it either, but I'm already salivating at the thought of free booze.

So we get to the bar and Tomas tries his best to explain it. Apparently he stayed in touch with one of the girls from the UCB line, and she works for some huge ad agency in the midwest. One of her clients is baileys, and they are trying to gather research on what people are drinking and how they like baileys. So she wants him to film our honest reactions to baileys and then she's going to use this footage in some kind of presentation. (ok, er, whatever) Even better, we only have to drink one baileys drink on camera and then we can just drink whatever we want the rest of the night. Yippee!!

Except that some how, because it was just too funny to resist, baileys keeps creeping it's way into all of the drinks anyway. I can't tell you the last time I did an Irish car bomb and a blow job shot, but Friday night brought the pain. And it's all on tape! Now I can never run for Congress.

We head to UCB after the bar, to see our friend in a show at midnight. After rushing to get there, we find out that his show has been pushed back an hour til 1, and so now we've got time to kill. To the bar!

So we go for drinks next door. Baileys rears it's ugly head yet again. I feel like I've had a big nasty milkshake by this point. Now we are all much too silly for our own good.

Tomas disappears outside for a few minutes and comes back in, saying, "I just got in trouble. I guess."

"Whaaaa?"

"I was standing outside, using my blackberry to take pictures of the bar to include with all of the footage, and this girl was like, 'stop taking pictures of me.' And I'm like, 'Um, I'm not.' And she says she is going to call her body guard if I don't stop. So then I ask her friend if she is drunk or something, and her friend just kind of laughed. I'm so confused."

So then he points out the girl, who is sitting at a table outside, and from our booth we can see her perfectly. Can see her turtleneck sweater and glasses. Can see her stupid face. So we commence blatently staring and pointing to make her uncomfortable.

(Look, normally I am not at all confrontational, but I can be super obnoxious if the situation calls for it.)

After a few minutes of this harassment from a distance, her "bodyguard" comes over to our table. This man is also the bouncer for the bar. What a coincidence, Danielle. (Oh yeah, we named this girl Danielle.) So her bouncerguard tells us not to get the wrong idea about her, she is really a great girl, she just gets nervous around paparazzi.

The table is amused. Paparazzi? Tomas? We start cracking up.

Now bouncerguard looks a little thrown off, and as he continues talking, I get the sense he is trying not to betray his friend/bodyguardee, but he knows that bullshit is just flying out of his mouth. He continues, "She just saw your camera and got concerned."

"Oh, is she famous?" We ask.

"No. But she is friends with a lot of celebrities."

"Oh. Who is she here with?"

"Well, no one."

The table, again, loves this. Poor bouncerguard. "So anyway, just give her some space. Anyway, she's really nice...."

We have already drowned him out, preferring instead the sound of our own voices making fun of Danielle and her unjustified fear of the one man blackberry paparazzi. The nerve!

Realizing we need to leave in about 10 minutes, and that we are going to have to pass right by her table as we exit, we begin formulating plans to bother her. Throw things at her head! Kick her chair! Wait no...we have a better plan.

As we leave the bar, all six of us take out our cellphones and pass her table, getting them all in her personal space and pretending to take pictures. "Look who it is!" we shout. "Oh my god are you getting this!" "We're gonna be rich!"

"Oh look, you're all bitches!" Danielle calls out after us. Whatever, she started it.

Blame it on the baileys, sucker!