No, seriously, folks. If you did not press play and listen to that song while imagining my Playboy Mansion entrance, then you must stop and do it now. Seriously. And if you do not laugh out loud, then you are doing it wrong.
And then imagine me asking, to no one in particular, "Where do I go to snort cocaine off a whore's tits?!" (Alas, I did not witness any cocaine or whores. Fantasy and reality are really two different things, aren't they?)
The occasion was Diablo Cody's 30th birthday party, and, lest you think this small-town girl has been completely consumed by grotesque Hollywood decadence and excess, I'll have you know that she rented a bouncy castle. And if you did not laugh out loud again, you are not properly paying attention to this blog post. She rented a fucking bouncy castle. At the Playboy Mansion. And this is why everyone who loves Diablo Cody loves Diablo Cody.
The party had a pirate theme, and I agonized as to whether or not I should don a costume or at least carry an accessory like a sword or a telescope or a parrot, but I decided against it and chose to attend the party as a "butt pirate," which is to say that I basically dressed like I would normally dress (jeans, button-up shirt).
You probably already know all about the Playboy Mansion and its many pleasures, so I'm not going to go into too much detail about the grounds. I did check out the mountain-themed bathrooms (giant, environmentally unfriendly paper towels!), the zoo (lemur! monkey!), the aviary (big birds!), the game room (free Donkey Kong!), the infamous Grotto (smelled like certain dried bodily fluids! [or it may have been bleach to erase the smell of certain dried bodily fluids!])—but what I really want to talk about is the chocolate fondue.
The woman behind the chocolate fondue table was dipping strawberries, pineapple, cookies, brownies, marshmallows (with optional crushed graham crackers around it), and other assorted goodies.
"I can dip any of those things in the chocolate?" I asked.
She smiled. "You can dip anything in there."
I thought about Joey McIntyre in his leather pants, who was wandering though the crowd with fellow New Kid Jordan Knight. "Can I dip Joey McIntyre in there?!" I asked enthusiastically.
The woman did not respond.
Donovan turned to me and said, "I don't think she's going to answer you."
We looked back at the woman. She continued to not respond.
Oh, well. I got my chocolate-dipped things and walked away.
At first, I thought it would be tacky for me to blog about all the celebrities who were there. But I'm going to do it anyway. That way, when they all eventually Google themselves and land on this blog, they will all deeply regret not making out with me in the bouncy castle. Your loss, bitches!
Of course, the Juno contingent was there (Jason Reitman, Ellen Page, Allison Janney, Olivia Thirlby), as were famous directors (Eli Roth, Edgar Wright), Hollywood power couples whose beach photos show up in People and give me a cheap thrill (Justin Long and Drew Barrymore), hot films actors (Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Brandon Routh), TV stars (Michael C. Hall, Zachary Levi), musicians (Lily Allen, Courtney Love), and, of course, Hugh Hefner (in his signature robe) and his girlfriends. It was a bit overstimulating, and I kind of wished all of these people were in cages, so that I could gawk at them at my leisure. But, no, they were let loose to mix in with the common people, taking me aback whenever I would bump into any one of them, spilling a little bit of my Diet Cherry Pepsi on myself.
Aside from Diablo (to whom Courtney Love sang two songs ["Diablo's my girl crush"] and to whom Joe Mac wished a public happy birthday [in his—did I mention?—leather pants]), I think it was in fact me who felt most like a celebrity, even more so than all those celebrities I just mentioned. Why? Well, there were tons of Diablo's friends from Minneapolis there, and most of them are fans of Pork Chop and our video series. So they all approached me with great enthusiasm and Minnesotan love.
I mean, I'm sure people went up to the guy who stars in Chuck and said, "You're that guy in Chuck!" But I got hugs and fawning, and Minnesota hugs and fawning are a special kind of hugs and fawning. Yeah, Guy From Chuck, you didn't get hugs and fawning! You wanna know why? You don't have a fat cat in your show!
It was a great evening, and my only regret is that it didn't end with me at the bottom of a Chuck-Dexter-Superman heap in the bouncy castle. Celebrity has its limits.