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a black and white affair

ok, so it looks like that liz smith character never made it to the event,
so i guess i'm stuck with spreading gossip and/or lies. [liz smith is a
relatively famous hollywood gossip. i am a relatively infamous nerd.]

tonight, babies, halifax's finest gathered at the cafe mokka to celebrate
the holiday season. yes, the murder/coast/cinnamon toast party was an
event not to be missed, unless you had absolutely no way of taping ER.
[murder is the name of a local record label. the coast is the name of a
bi-weekly (sort of like ashley but not) magazine that CLAIMS to be a hip
alternative type of publication, but since they let me work there for a
few weeks, you know it's just not true. cinnamon toast is a good breakfast
idea. better than eggs fried in bacon grease, even.]

your faithful reporter arrived at 8:15. wearing what can only be described
as "a mistake", i began to scan the room for the ideal spot in which to
observe. naturally, my date and i hovered near the food table on the
first level for a good hour, nibbling mushroom thingamabobs and vegetables
and bread while watching folks come and go.

all the really important people were up on the second level, smoking and
drinking like crazy fools. james covey must have had at least five beers
in him at that time. thrush hermits and super friendz's could be seen
smoking at least two or three cigarettes each! at the same time, even.
nearly everyone was dressed in the required black and white (as stated on
the lovely green invitations). nice, very nice. according to a reliable
source, chris murphy arrived in a red t-shirt and pants of some kind or 
another, while marc brown arrived in his glorious orange toque and green
jacket. i'm telling you ladies, do NOT turn these gentlemen down if they
ask you for a dance; what they lack in wardrobe style, they more than make
up for on the dance floor. just be wary, my source also tells me they are
more the "love 'em and leave 'em" type.

entertainment consisted of a faux country ensemble playing music for
linedancing. the ensemble featured allison outhit on drums (who knew?), 
charles austin on guitar, joel plaskett on the lap steel, and tracy
stevens as a star vocalist.too bad matt murphy was away with jale, i just
know his yodelling would have made the night a perfect '10' instead of the
8.7 it was.

i don't think people out here quite "get" the concept of linedancing,
however, since most of these alleged music types kept trying to do what i
always thought was the bunny hop. i kept thinking "i'm from out west, i
oughta show 'em how it's done" but my modesty got the best of me and i
shrunk away to the first level once again.

apparently, this is when the big moment happened.

whilst i was standing at the snackin' table with crumbs falling all over
my chin, sloan was presented with their gold album. at first, i thought it
must be somebody's birthday or anniversary, because everyone started
cheering and clapping. but then someone started making fun of sloan and
how silly "it all was" and then i knew. shit. i had missed the big
"highlight" of the evening. well, if you don't count the fact tracy
stevens was in drag the entire night.

all was not lost, however. marc brown invited my date and i to *touch* one
of the gold records later in the evening. i told him a story about how
much my mom likes sloan and asked if i could have it, like a sort of
christmas present or something. that's when colin mackenzie stepped in and
asked what was going on. he's freakin' fast on his feet, that one.

well, my little ones, i wish i could tell you some of the more sordid
details of the party, but a gal has to draw the line somewhere. besides, i
gotta live and work in this city for a while yet. 

happy xmas, everyone!

[cut to disillusioned old man walking alongside two sugar-high nerds
desparately trying to hail a cab. music starts ("lu lu lu-lu lu lu lu
lu-BREATHE-lu lu lu-lu lu lu lu-BREATHE...) as credits roll]

who, if truth beknown, had the best-looking date there

HEY!! Write me at:


after September 30, 1996