Wednesday, June 18, 2008

I’m back in Chicago after a long time away, and so is supermodel Elaine Irwin. We were childhood pals, and so we’re really happy to see each other. She and I are both wearing t-shirts and shorts, no make-up, and because we grew up together and she’s so happy to see me I don’t feel like a total schlub around her. We’re sitting on an old nubby couch talking, and I want to ask her how her husband, John Cougar Mellencamp, is , but I don’t want her to think I’m groupie-ing her so I could groupie him. She might be sensitive or something. Then he comes in. I always knew he was short, and way shorter than her, but I never realized just how short: he’s barely taller than the couch. And plus he looks like he’s had some bad plastic surgery, like Liberace, who was also short. I don't know what to say to him, and I don't want to seem like I'm sucking up because he's famous (and plus I don't want to alienate Elaine), and so I say, "Did German shepherds really herd sheep in Germany?"

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