After the museum, I drove back to VH1's production offices to meet up with Ross, Grant and Charlene. Grant had been up at Jordana & Ross' ranch house in northern California working on a book and Charlene was out from London visiting him. He had to come back down to do some voice-over work for his pilot.
The group headed outside for our last round of goodbyes. With the exception of Grant who was staying behind for a few more days to hang with his family, the rest of us were heading back to the States in the mornin
And hey, I bet you'd completely forgotten that this was Halloween night. We'd almost forgotten too - or at least until Charlene and Dave found these creepy masks that the put on. (This was our first Halloween in two years that we didn't get to attend Viola's "My Friends are All Out of Your League" Supermodel Party. See: Halloween 2001 and Halloween 2002.)
Best. Photo. Ever. Seriously though, who else can make the biddies giggle like the Grizza? NO ONE, that's who! Check out Dani all touching his chest and shit. Kid's the fucking mack.
So in the course of shooting the shit with Tony Chambers, it came up that we had wanted to sing karaoke that night but that the only place that we knew of had already closed. Tony leaned in close and in a conspirital tone told us about a private, karaoke speakeasy he knew of that operated afterhours on the second floor of a tiny, nearby sushi bar. After promising we'd keep it secret, he disclosed to us the location. (Looking back, he was probably just totally psyched to have our loud, American, clearly NOT VIP-asses out of his little private, members only backroom!)
Charlene, PR whiz that she is, totally snowed the doorlady into believing that we were some fancy VIPs from New York that had been flown into town by her company the previous night to attend the AC/DC concert.
Before heading to the concert, we decided to break out the bottle of Brennivin we'd given Charlene and give it a try. Not heeding the advice of the woman who sold us the bottle who told us to "make sure we drank it out from the freezer."
On the train ride from Heathrow to London, we presented Charlene with a bottle of Iceland's only local spirit, the schnapps called Brennivin, which literally translated means "Black Death." The drink is described by an Icelandic travel site as "A fearsomely strong, transparent, caraway-seed-flavoured aquavit made from potatoes, it's drunk straight from the freezer, either as a straight shot or over ice and a slice of lemon. It's not at all bad, and is the cheapest thing to drink while out. Yet no Icelander ever seems particularly proud of it."
At the baggage claim carousel, our bags were the first three out. We grabbed them, breezed through customs and made it to the arrival terminal just as Charlene showed up. (For those of you that don't know, Charlene is Grant's superhot friend from High School who came and visited us in New York this past summer).
After hugs were exchanged, Charlene told us "There are a few things we can do tonight," we were about to tell her that we were exhausted and just wanted to go to bed when she finished with, "and one of them is a surprise ACDC concert that I might be able to get tickets and backstage passes to." Charlene, not knowing our taste in music asked "I don't know, is that something that the three of you would be interested in?" We nearly lost our minds. Free surprise ACDC concert? Backstage passes? We decided we had no choice but to rally yet again.
On the train we voted against bringing our luggage to the concert for fear that there'd be no place to put it (As much as we wanted to catch the ACDC concert in it's entirety, the thought all of our luggage getting lost in the fray was too much of a risk, even for us). So we hopped a quick cab back to Charlene's flat (that's fancy British talk for "apartment") to drop off our bags.
Saturday night Grant made reservations for the Über-fancy restaurant, Suba. The food was so pretty, that our entries all merritted us all posing with them.
...we hit the boardwalk for some more greasy food (between the three of us we ate 3 corndogs, a jumbo Italian sausage, a shish kebab, an order of fries and a FUNNEL CAKE.) The only thing that hurt more than my stomach was my wallet.
Earlier in the evening before we left that Mati Hari place, Morgan, the promoter, pulled me aside and invited me to a late night party that was being thrown by P.Diddy and Ashton Kutcher (sp?)...so we rounded up some rowdies and headed uptown to Dorsia to see if we could get some pics of us coldlamping with Demi.
My buddy Morgan is a fancy club promoter and he invited us to the private opening of some fancy new club called Manna Hatta (I think) on the corner of Bowery and 3rd St (the place that has the bright, blue neon "Restaurant" sign). Here's me and Charlene.
After a warmup drink or three there, we headed over to The Hole and met up with a buncha other people. Charlene, Grant, Tara and (special guest stars from Teendrama) Dennis Crowley and Grellan