I am a little confused as to what an informant meant when he told me that a starlet was was "doing RAILS" in the bathroom at a local club. Rails? How does one DO rails? Perhaps he meant the VERB form of the word: "to scold in harsh, abusive language." But that doesn't seem right either. I had seen the lovely blond in question myself earlier that evening in the VIP lounge at the SIFF opening-night party, and she seemed in a fine mood: chatty, perky, and really, really awake. Not someone I could imagine "railing." So just what did my informant mean? Will we ever know?
Although I did attend the SIFF opening-night party at the wretched Pacific Place Mall, I skipped the opening-night movie Love's Labour's Lost in favor of mylackey.com's first anniversary party. I mean, really: Alicia Silverstone and Nathan Lane doing YET ANOTHER bad Shakespeare adaptation (someone SHOOT Kenneth Branagh!), or a room full of skinny twentysomething underachievers with stock options? It was held at the Moore Theatre and the crowd was surprisingly stiff. "So what do YOU do?" was the icebreaker of the evening. No one who works for mylackey seems to know anyone else who works for mylackey. Which was fine, really, since they were all basically variations of the same person: young, ridiculously good-looking, and nerdy in the best way. After I had exhausted my drink tickets, I was loosened up enough to ask some mylackeys just how far they would go for $50. Without missing a beat, an adorable girl with a big mylackey.com logo tattooed on her boob replied, "Tacoma."
It's a story you can tell your grandchildren: An employee at a local fetish-wear shop had the experience of a lifetime last week when she sold Nell Carter a set of black sequined pasties! Well, actually she sold them to a woman claiming to be Nell's "personal assistant" (read: probable lesbian lover). The exasperated "assistant" confided to the clerk that she had been all over town--on Miss Carter's instruction--looking for just such an item. Probably had difficulty finding a large enough pair. Miss Carter (former star of Gimme a Break and one of the sole survivors of the dreaded '80s sitcom curse) wore the pasties while appearing in last weekend's Seattle (Gay) Men's Chorus performance at Benaroya Hall.
Guitarist Stone Gossard of Pearl Jam was at the Showbox last week, joking with members of Queens of the Stone Age that he wasn't worried in the slightest that PJ's new album, Binaural, came out the exact same day as Britney Spears' latest. What? Who's not afraid of Britney Spears?
Speaking of big-breasted sluts and alterna-rockers, it seems Limp Bizkit frontman Fred Durst has no fear of dancing bimbos either. Two informants claim to have spotted Mr. Durst at the Denny Way strip joint Déjà Vu last week. One informant claims to have seen Mr. Durst inside the club ("doing it all for the nookie," har-de-har-har) and the other says he spotted him outside the club, chatting up "a big-haired blond girl," most probably a Déjà Vu employee. Whether this girl was one of the 100s of pretty girls or one of the three ugly ones was never determined.
I am watching you. Try to be interesting. Send gossip to firstname.lastname@example.org.