When you're a happy person, you draw happy people in...

This is a Two Part Post. I wrote the passage immediately below after coming back from a party at the Raleigh. I met a dashing, attractive British Journalist, on assignment and writing an article for... some Publication in England. Apparently, my interest did not go unreciprocated...

Begin post written while wastedly drunk after having come from the Raleigh:

Tonight I went to an arty-party with the Arty Charity I'm involved in.

Who should I meet? A charming, interesting, pretty, JEWISH British boy, who looked, for all intents and purposes, like Clinton Kelley from What Not To Wear.

We hit it off.

Well.

I flirted and was charming and intelligent. And he looked like Clinton Kelley, and was charming and intelligent.

Although he's peacing out to Key West tomorrow, he got my card and my number. Which he solicited.

I'm not normally a "Clinton Kelley" kind of guy... but with his North London/Liverpool accent (which I totally nailed him on) and his ability to capture me in photographs, actually looking charming...

Well...

It makes me glad I'm single.

Okay. So, that was written last night. I get an email from my Brit today, describing his trip to Key West, and characterizing most of the Americans he's met as... well. You know how he'll describe them. Because, it's true. They didn't understand him when he spoke, and he wrote about an almost satellite delay between the end of his sentences, and a response from his conversational counterpart.

He did, however, have this to say about me:

"As always there are some Americans who do get what you say. [Superbee] a sexy young Yankee lawyer, who was entertaining and interesting in equal measure at a legal art function at a posh hotel in Miami. The night before. I would like a night after.. I go back Monday."

::beat::

Hott.

I'm a bad person.

I'm terrible. Simply terrible. But fascinated.

Confidential to Person X: If I shouldn't have this up here, let me know, I don't want to dilute anything, if you know what I mean...

This is a great article

A great piece of writing analyzing the immense impact that Anna Nicole's death has caused. My favorite line is in the second paragraph, that her final notice was not intended for the front page...

She'll live on forever, in me...because one of my catch phrases comes from her, "Iown't like it. I thought it was 'taters." (I don't like it, I thought it was [mashed] potatoes.) I usually say that when I've eaten s0mething that sucks.