22nd
Another Day, Another Sloane Crosley Book Party
Do I really want to attend another Sloane Crosley circle jerk tonight? Do I really want to have to listen to Jonathan Ames whine about addition and his itchy asshole? Do I really want to listen to A.M. Homes’ incessant droning about how her mother was a slut? Do I really want to listen to Liz Spiers’ pathetic fishing for peer approval of her new gig at Fortune?
NO!
But go I must, if only to secure Sloane’s autograph inside of her painfully mediocre essay collection so that I am assured of one-upping everyone at the next book club gathering. I just hope that Huffington doesn’t fuck me by showing up with an autographed copy of Mein Kampf that she obtained in an Ebay auction. That’d be so like her to do that.
Then again, I can always send Boltlung to the book party and go bowling with the staff instead. Aren’t we competing against Radar tonight? It would be nice to see if Balk can roll better than a 37. I wonder if Neel will be there?
