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>The Penthouse Pet of the Year Party was Okay.

>A phrase I really never imaged I’d write. Dad was always into “Oui” and “Playboy” and last year’s party was so perfect.

The party was kind of a hassle at first, but we had fun. Spending time with Scott “Rev. Ramsey” was priceless and worth any initial annoyance we had. We met a great guy, I got to network with a couple of comedians I hope to see at Comix soon and Scott & I had about 6 hours of intensely great conversation with “only in NY” kind of weirdness wrapped all around it.

Tonight, I was at a networking cocktail party with some TV and Film types when somehow reality show treatments came up. If you don’t know, I have two treatments I’m drafting and my “agent” is on vacation. (Agent is in quotes because he’s said he’s going to help me but we have no formal relationship.) Well, the agent works with reality TV show producers and promised he can put me in touch with them. So, who did I meet on my own tonight? One of the very producers. Talk about cutting to the chase! Talk about thoughts becoming things! (Sorry, I know I’ve exhausted this phrase.)

I also decided to actually write a formal proposal for a memoir and, since deciding this, I’ve met at LEAST three publishers who all said “That’s such a no brainer.” While this would normally be a great thing to hear, it actually freaks me out. It makes me think I should take my sweet arse time and make sure I attack it from the right angle. Do I strike while the iron is hot? Do I hedge my bets and wait a year or more?

It’s all too much to fathom at times and, at others, it’s all a wonderful, “FUCK YEAH!” kind of intense d*ck stroking c*m shot in the eye of the wh*re called “Life”.

Gosh. Which is it?