Leave Britney Alone!

Rick went out for lunch today and was mobbed by the paparazzi, all jostling and pushing each other, trying to get a picture.

 Okay, not of him. They were trying to photograph Lindsay Lohan, who for some reason was eating lunch at the little pizza place near Post Haste. Which is also down the street from the dance studio where Britney has been rehearsing for her next tour/personal meltdown. As a result, the neighborhood is lousy with photogs, making it difficult for a working Joe like Rick to run in and grab a slice. Which he shouldn’t be eating anyway, as we have decided to start “eating healthier.” Although LiLo looks to be in pretty good shape, and if SHE’S eating pizza for lunch, well, then why shouldn’t Rick? Although since I wasn’t there, I can’t say for certain that she was eating pizza and not a Caeser salad, very light on the dressing, no croutons.

I always miss the fun stuff. I also wasn’t around last week when Matthew McConaughey, bongos in hand, was actually in our very building,  at one of the other recording studios where he was putting the last touches on an album he has been making with some Reggae musicians. To my knowledge, Matt M does not eat pizza either, which is a good thing, because I can only imagine what would have happened if he had decided to run out for a slice of pepperoni, extra cheese, at the same time Brit decided to  take a break from thrashing around the dance floor and pop in for a slice while LiLo was innocently sitting and eating her Spinach salad with balsamic vinaigrette, hold the bacon bits. The paps might have gone into such a frenzy that they spontaneously combusted and an entire block of North Hollywood would have gone up in flames. Hollywood may be used to such a confluence of star power, but that’s generally not how we roll up here in NoHo.

If I HAD been there, I would have been very gracious and rolled my eyes at LiLo in a conspiratorial manner that suggested I felt her pain and shared her disgust at the paps. I know she would have “gotten” it and nodded back. Britney, on the other hand, probably would have ignored me, not because she’s an inherently crueler person, but because she would have been blinded by the camera flashes directed at her and simply would not have seen my gesture of sisterly support. So, that’s Britney’s loss, really, because I would be a great friend to go shopping with and I’d tell her the truth about the clothes she was trying on. It’s obvious Britney doesn’t have anyone around her these days telling her which pants make her look fat.

Hopefully these luminaries will all soon return to Malibu or Beverly Hills or wherever they emanate from, and leave us working folk in peace. It’s hard enough to decide what to eat for lunch without the added pressure of having to worry about spilling your food down the front of your shirt with LiLo at the next table daintily consuming her chopped salad, no cheese, dressing on the side.


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