George Clooney's brother, Hyram Cleach, has worked hard at totally avoiding success by remaining a consistently unpublished 'writer' and playing in anonymous 'bands'.
Dear sports, if you are perusing this at around 7PM, you'll find that l'm always dressed for dinner. Ok..., so this photo was taken at 5pm. I can see that. Yes, I'll change. I mean, I'd dress better than this. Are you always so, er,picky? Jesus Christ! Ya worse than my wife. Anyway, you're my guest, and imagine if you will, that we are seated with other charming, stylish and witty guests at a vast, though intimate, digital dinner party.
The music is very cool, the lights are warm and low, welcoming us all in a beautiful electric glow. The food is good, the wine is ample and everything has worked towards this very moment, this place and to recognising your importance and value. Hey, look, if you don’t like it, you can eat take away in the damn car, fella!
My name's not Colonel Robert Neville or Madge Williams for that matter, but then neither is yours. My wife is Japanese and I have a small son. How small, we'll never know. We are ex restaurant owners, as ex as ex can be, and that’s pretty ex, let me tell you. I’m trying to study business, finance and investment etc. I’m an alleged writer, chef, actor and musician, he said laughably, which are all doubtful career choices. In fact they're definately doubtful career choices. You should never doubt this.
Yep, we all know what it takes to be a memorable guest and for all the right reasons, so now it’s over to you. Well, actually that's not true. Man, I've been to some terrible dinner parties, with more bubbling tension than if they held the Nuremberg Trials on the edge of a volcano. Well, you've ruined everything now. The whole moods gone. I hope ya satisfied.
Sincerely yours, Colonel Robert Neville.
No comments:
Post a Comment