So I just got back from this goddam jazz piano club, Ernie's. This guy, appropriately named Ernie, just played the piano like the biggest goddam phony that I've ever seen in my life. He kills me. Literally. All he plays for is the applause.
Oh, and that reminds me. Earlier tonight I went to a bar in my hotel called The Lavender Room. I was sitting next to these relatively good-looking girls (or at least the blonde one was), and I sort of gave them the eye. Eventually I got up and struck up a conversation with them, and even asked them to dance a while. But the thing is, when I'd try to talk to them, they would only look away from me, as if they were searching around for someone. I'm pretty sure—no, I'm entirely sure—that all they wanted was to catch a glance of some famous guy. Which really gets on my goddam nerves.
I mean really, people are only famous because they've been on a goddam screen once in a while, and maybe they're slightly more good-looking than others, but all they want is fame. That kills me. I mean, if people are willing to let goddam naked pictures of themselves out just so people will see them and Perez Hilton and TMZ will talk about them, that's pretty horrible, don't you think?
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