Saturday, May 28, 2005

Instant Karma's gonna get you. Gonna look you right in the face.

So, I'm shopping at Super Wal Mart, and I was talking to my sister, Liz, on the phone. (Yeah, yeah, they're an exploitative, downtown-killing, soulless, little-guy-crushing evil empire, but when you need packing tape, bubble wrap, a playstation memory card and some bacon, what the fuck you gonna do?)

Liz works in Hollywood. She's got the most glamorous job in the family, and she gets to go to fancy dinners, cool parties and meet famous people on occasion. We all think it's fantastic. She calls it a job.

Anyway, Liz told me a good story.

She went to some type of Hollywood release party. She hung out for a while, got tired, and decided to leave.

As she was walking out with a co-worker, she saw Ashlee Simpson and her girlfiends. That's right, Ashlee Simpson. The one who fucked up her lip sync on SNL, hopped around like a Special Olympian trying to do an Irish jig, then blamed it on her band and "exhaustion."

Well, anyway, Liz is just leaving when Ashlee Simpson's girlfriends approach the burly bouncer.

[ed. note- please read italics in a Valley Girl accent, for optimal effect...}

Ashlee's girlfriends were 'all like,' "We're here for the party."

Burly bouncer guy responds, "You gotta be on the list to get in the party."

"Uh, yeeah. Right. We're here for the party."

"You gotta be on the list."

Ashlee steps forward, raises her eyebrows, and says, "I'm Ashlee Simpson?"

"Uh, yeah. And you're not on the list."

---

Aahhhhh. All is right in the world.



You think the carpet-pissers did this?

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