I've already written up my most scandalous celebrity anecdote, but rules are rules and it's probably easier to draft a new one than do a re-write.
For those interested, a glimpse into a certain pop star's backdoor predilections is available here. Wow, a bonus ... two anecdotes in one. Yeah, I'm a giver.
And so, because a certain housemate asked ever so nicely …
It was 1988. I was living in the French Quarter and had a very large terrace overlooking Royal Street. Friends would often come over to hang out when they got tired of the ruckus on Bourbon Street.
It must have been about 9 or 10 one night when the phone rang. It was my friend Patti. She was out in the Quarter with a girlfriend, and their beaux, and wanted to know if they could come over for a bit.
This usually meant, "can we come get high at yours?"
Sure, why not.
About ten minutes later, the doorbell rings and I buzz them up.
Beautiful Patti (and she was) came in and introduced me to one of her best friends, Stacey (if memory serves), a model from Los Angeles. "And this is Stacey's boyfriend, Nic."
It was Nicholas Cage. This was around the time of Raising Arizona (which was, and still is, one of my favourite movies) and Moonstruck.
Completely unexpected.
"Um, hi, nice to meet you."
They'd been wandering around the Quarter, and wanted to get into some new club (now long defunct), but couldn't because Nic had on ripped jeans or the wrong shoes or something ridiculous.
So they came over to ours and we drank vodka and talked about the film he'd just made, Vampire's Kiss. He told us the director was a freak, so he kept "calling Uncle Frank" for advice. Seems he had to eat a cockroach for the film. The special effects folks had made samples out of chocolate and liquorice, but Mr. Cage was an actor of integrity and opted for verisimilitude. So he got some live critters, found a bottle of vodka to serve as antiseptic (or anaesthesia, I'm not really sure), and ate the live bug.
We told him there was plenty of vodka in the apartment, and plenty of cockroaches in New Orleans, if he wanted to go for a re-enactment. He graciously declined.
By the end of the night, we were fairly lit and discussing white imagery in Moby Dick. As you do.
All in, he was very down-to-earth and quite a charming houseguest for the evening. And nobody once told him to "snap out of it."
I wanna know which pop star was getting a good seeing to!
Big Blogger demands to know, or else.
Posted by: Big Blogger | Wednesday, 20 June 2007 at 18:27
I can't go for that, because his private eyes might be watching and that wouldn't make Sarah smile.
Posted by: bob | Wednesday, 20 June 2007 at 19:27
I also have to admit that I clicked on the link to find out about the backdoor shenanigens, only to find no names.
Dammit!
I bet you'd have named names if Nic had asked.
Posted by: bedshaped | Wednesday, 20 June 2007 at 19:46
Oh, arse. Nic's kiss was on my list till I read the cockroach thing.
Posted by: Angelalala | Wednesday, 20 June 2007 at 21:02
Please y'all. That's a blind item Helen Keller could read.
Posted by: bob | Thursday, 21 June 2007 at 02:04
Which one's X though Bob? The blond or the brunette?
Posted by: KT | Thursday, 21 June 2007 at 11:45
It appears all I need to do is bat my eyelashes at you, Bob. Moonstruck-era Cage though... Colour me jealous.
Posted by: Joseph | Thursday, 21 June 2007 at 17:18
It appears all I need to do is bat my eyelashes at you, Bob. Moonstruck-era Cage though... Colour me jealous.
Posted by: Joseph | Thursday, 21 June 2007 at 17:18
Not entirely sure why that double-posted but it happily sums up the the extent of my jealousy and lack of computer ability when Nic is on my mind.
Posted by: Joseph | Thursday, 21 June 2007 at 17:19
Woah, they are two v. impressive anecdotes!
And now I have that song on my mind and not a clue who sang it...
Posted by: Clare | Monday, 25 June 2007 at 15:01