Wowlebrity Ross Matthews has a new book, Name Drop, which comes out Feb. 4, 2020, and is available for pre-order.
In it, he dishes: “The stories where I actually get invited into celebrities’ secret lives — their natural habitats, if you will — are the real gold. Their private tables in restaurants, their magnificent movie trailers, their hilariously humongous houses — that’s where the really good stuff happens.”
Entertainment Weekly got an exclusive excerpt from the prologue.
Name-dropping runs rampant in Hollywood, like high-speed car chases, gluten intolerance, and syphilis. And much like syphilis, name-dropping is super-grody and spreads quickly. You can’t walk five feet down Sunset Boulevard without overhearing some Real Housewife of Whatever telling a former Disney tween about how her new trainer is the guy who got Chris Pratt’s body into batshit crazy shape for that comic book movie. No, not that comic book movie. The other one. No, not that one. The other one.
Side note, Chris, if you’re reading this—and I just assume you are—I love your body . . . of work. Honey, I’d Guard your Galaxy any day! (Side note: I’d like to point out that I made a conscious choice to not make a cheap, tasteless Uranus joke here. Why? Because I’m trying to be bigger than that. We’ll see how long that lasts.)
As someone who has interviewed just about every celebrity you can imagine on every red carpet you can imagine for nearly the past two decades, I have some pretty amazing stories. And, trust me—the red carpet stories are the boring ones! The stories where I actually get invited into celebrities’ secret lives—their natural habitats, if you will—are the real gold. Their private tables in restaurants, their magnificent movie trailers, their hilariously humongous houses—that’s where the really good stuff happens.
From time to time, I’ve managed to sneak beyond the velvet rope that separates them from us mere mortals and see what few ever get to see.
The following Hollywood stories are wholesome and hilarious. No celebrity was harmed in the making of this book. But don’t worry, honey—we’re still gonna go there. I mean, don’t you wanna know what Kanye piled onto his plate at the buffet when I was in line behind him at the Kardashian Christmas party? And who would it hurt if I told you? Ham. It was ham. See—now you know and nobody died. Well, the pig did, but you can’t blame me for that.
To read more, go to Entertainment Weekly.