Friday, September 7, 2007

Fame: what's your name, what's your name, what's your name.

I'm feeling a little grumpy grumpelstein today, and I think this is why.

While I have to admit to enjoying the buzz that surrounds the arrival of the Toronto International Film Festival, I'm amazed at the lengths people will go to to be in the presence of another human being who simply makes a living by pretending to be someone else.

I pretend to be someone else at least 15 times a week. Where's my paparazzi?

Anyway, one of my co-workers photocopied an article out of the Metro for me this morning. It's entitled "A handy guide to the celeb-friendly hotspots." While the celebs are inside drinking Crystal and doing lines of the toilet lid, you, too, can stand outside in the oppressive Toronto smog to catch a glimpse of them. Why? Because maybe Brad Pitt or Jake Gyllenhal will emerge from the protective shell of Lobby or One, lock eyes with your sorry ass, and be your BFF.

Most people have more channels in their basic cable package than books in their library.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Haha! Love it. Great post today, ML. You're awesome.

©km said...

You KNOW I'm your personal Paparazzi, i just don't wanna get hit upside the head with the pink purse. Shall I start following you around? I can go to the airport with you and photograph you getting onto the plane to YYB? See if that generates any buzz? I'll bring the BIG flash, too?
And I have more books than channels.