>>> The Strumpet's Trumpet January 6, 2008
By staff writer Allison Parks
January 6, 2008
Prepare to be jealous, Hills fans! I, through the wonders of Craigslist, was able to attend The Hills finale party! MTV was “casting fans” via job postings in Los Angeles; all I had to do was send in my age, a photo, and why I heart The Hills more than most. I swiftly emailed in my entry and headed straight to church. I needed the Lord’s help, then more than ever. I spent the next several days in prayer, asking our Lord Jesus to please, please take his focus off of starving children and send me to The Hills Season 3 finale party at the fabulous Area Nightclub in Hollywood. Lo and behold, I was accepted to attend with one guest! I invited my
friend Janet, who lives in southern California.
I was packed and foaming at the mouth to get on that plane, when suddenly my phone rang to the tune of, Staring, at the blank page before you, open up the dirty window… Feel the rain on your skin!! I answered, probably because I figured it was MTV telling to stay off that common person’s Southwest plane and board the private jet they had chartered for me. It was indeed MTV, but they had ghastly different information: They’d overbooked the event, and therefore I could not bring a guest.
Wail! I couldn’t go alone!!
“I was terrified that more attractive Hills groupies were willing to blow this headset wearer…”
I opted not to tell Janet the bad news until the last minute. Surely it would result in her suicide. With Jesus on my side, we would find a way to sneak her in. I vowed to fellate any and all door men, to make this Hills finale a magical evening for us both.
Janet and I met at the Hollywood Renaissance Hotel and we began to coif our beastly selves in a pathetic attempt to fit in with slender Hollywood goddesses. I had spent that previous three days taking laxatives and crying on the toilet so I could appear as waifish as possible. Plus, I’d purchased fat-synching latex garments at Target to wear under my sequined gown.
With my lard tucked away and my hopes high, we arrived at Area Nightclub, where the poorly-organized event was to take place. We went to the red carpet and were told to go to the valet stand, where they told us to go to the red carpet, and so forth. We went to and fro…until…we saw our first Hills star! Brody!! He was beauteous, and his skin was like a baby’s behind.
Before he had the chance to ask me to reproduce with him in a giant pile of cash, Janet and I were scolded by a headset-wearing hipster demon.
“Get back to the valet stand.”
So we did. Then another headset-wearing hipster told Janet and I to line up down a dark alley. It was cold, and dark, and I was terrified that more attractive Hills groupies were willing to blow this headset wearer—in which case Janet would be banished back to the hotel.
“Name please?” Headset said to the girl in front of me. He scanned his list, then checked off her name. I began to sweat. Now it was my turn.
“Name please?” I gave him my name, then, as if the good Lord was shining upon us, he went to the next girl, completely bypassing Janet! He didn’t see her in the shadows! A female headset wearer then came up behind him and gave us wristbands! And before you could say, “Justin Bobby’s pubic dreadlock,” we were inside!
We sat on a couch and observed the pseudo-celebrities in action. First Jared—Hills personal trainer and one-time Whitney date—came and sat with us. “Come to my boot camp, get twelve friends, let’s do it,” he said, fidgeting madly, with wild, coked up eyes.
First of all, I didn’t have two friends, let alone twelve. Second, the only moving I’m doing is to the bar to get my thirty dollar, bottom shelf vodka tonic from the topless bartender with a Mohawk. Third, I didn’t think cocaine and exercise went together, but I suppose it makes sense…if you want your heart to explode (like Brody’s did when he saw my sexiness). Soon Jared was whisked away by a headset wearer in torn jeans and a vintage Iron Maiden tee. It was time for the show to begin.
Dan and Jessi—your super annoying after-show hosts—emerged from the shadows. They sat down and were frantically made up by the frantic makeup woman. A terrifying scar-faced producer in all black screamed at everyone to be quiet; the show was about to begin.
The screens lit up and Dan and Jessi began their annoying intro. Although Jessi looks more like a beluga whale on television, she is very slender in person. It made me shudder to think what I would look like on television. I had a horrifying premonition of Pizza the Hut from Spaceballs in a sequined gown.
After some yak yak yakin, Whitney and Audrina, who weigh a total of 13 pounds, materialized from the VIP crowd. They said some boring things and everyone cheered. Then Lauren appeared and the crowd went wild. She sat on the couch and the fine people from MTV proceeded to screen a fun little montage of Lauren screaming at all of her friends. She looked furious and entirely uncomfortable. It was delightful. Jessi asked some questions about Brody, while Lauren did her stupid “cute” faces (i.e. sticking out the tip of her tongue) that she obviously practices in the mirror on her numerous dateless evenings. She put her hands in the air (again trying to look cute) and said, “I dunno, you guys!! You’ll have to watch next season!” while fiddling with her hair.
Brody came out next and sat beside Lauren. He was also elusive in regard to their relationship status. Then the screen came on with a humiliating clip from the upcoming season. It was Lauren crying in France over the news that Brody has a new GF. All the while they were sitting right next to each other on the couch! It was so splendidly painful!!
After some more lame chit chat, the show came to an end. The headset devils shooed us right out the door. Exhausted from getting up at 5am to catch the airport shuttle, Janet and I headed for the Hollywood Boulevard McDonald’s, where we met a stinky homeless man with lots of encouraging words. Then it was right to sleep, dreaming of the magical Hills.
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