Daily Theory on Daily Theory

Mildred,

Last Monday night I got stuck working intelligence at the Golden Globes. Even with all the chatty conversation, not a bad gig.

Highlights:

When Abu-Assad returned to his celebrity filled table all anyone could say was how passe Kabala had become in the last six months.

George Clooney remained fixated on his kneecaps while twiddling his thumbs and slowly explaining to Mickey Rourke the benefits of investing money in a Kentucky boot leg bourbon operation.

Robert Altman was downing scotch faster than Bob Dylan.

Nicholas Cage kept comparing John Daly to Truman Capote. I counted five times he said to five different people in the course of three hours, "John Daly is the living version of Truman Capote. Exact same person...just a golf club instead of a pen."

Spielberg drank a lot of coffee while Tom Hanks kept quizzing everyone at the table on how much goggle stock they owned.

Sean Penn was so belligerent they had to keep him at the private bar on the Theater's roof. The joke was, "He preferred hanging out with the snipers."

With the exception of hanging out with Harper Lee, just another Monday night in Los Angeles.

Cash Frock