April 10, 2008
The St James Version
I had dinner last night at the Chateau Marmont and, as always, it was a delightful melange of Old and New Hollywood. At the table to my right, THE QUEEN OF HOLLYWOOD, herself, held court. YES, JACKIE COLLINS, in leopard and diamonds, was sipping champagne and no doubt gossiping about Jill St John or George Hamilton, you know how she is. It was all I could do not to fall out of my chair and squeal like a pig. I couldn't eat, I couldn't carry on a conversation. I nearly pulled a Derek Hough, snapping my neck back and forth, straining so hard to see what she was eating. Then I noticed that at the table to my LEFT was that naked guy from Forgetting Sarah Marshall, which isn't quite as exciting, but there you are. And as I was there SIGNING SOME LEGAL PAPERS, giving the rights TO SOMETHING so it can be made into SOMETHING, the whole scene was veddy, veddy chic, dahling.
– James St James
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