Betty White is probably the best friend I have in the whole world, next to Anna Wintour. But sometimes, frankly, she’s just a bad influence.
We all have those friends that bring out the rebelious side in us – the inner bad boy. The hidden wild cat. The repressed whore. For me, that friend is Betty White. She brings out a side of me that most people never see. A scary, outlandish side…a wacky Courtney Love kinda alter ego that inevitably results in us breaking some laws or playing cruel jokes on Carol Burnett. In fact, if Betty White threw a party – invited everyone she knew, she would see, the biggest gift would be from me…and the card attached would say “Bitch, if I go down, so do you!”
After delivering the most adorable acceptance speech for her Screen Actor’s Guild Lifetime Achievement Award, she was in the mood to party. We both were already dolled up…so hitting the town to celebrate her being the Bell of the Ball just seemed like the right thing to do. So we grabbed a couple of friends, hopped in the hummer limo and headed for the Sunset Strip.
So it was me, Betty, Nicole Kidman, Ashley Simpson and Joey Fatone. The bubbly was flowing, the drunk texts were flying. We were having a blast. Betty is OBSESSED with Ke$ha right now – so on the way to the club, she kept blaring “Tik Tok” over and over again (I still can’t get the damn song out of my head).
We ended up at Saddle Ranch - a western themed nightclub known for it’s mechanical bull. It’s a funny place where trendy straight people tie bandanas around their necks and wear cowboy hats with their Hudson jeans.
Betty is very fond of Ashley Simpson….though I really can’t imagine why. All evening long the girl just kept speaking in abbreviations – and it annoyed the hell out of me. Things like “OMG!” or “IDK!” or “LMAO!” She was bringing down my buzz…so eventually I managed to convince her to ride the bull, secretly hoping she’d fly off of it, break a rib, and have to be rushed to the emergency room so I wouldn’t have to listen to her incessant usage of random letters in the alphabet. To my surprise, she was actually quite good at riding the damn bull. This worked in my favor though – because she insisted on riding it for the rest of the evening.
I’m not really sure what happened to Joey Fatone. One minute he was busting a move on the dance floor with a buffalo wing in his mouth, and the next, he was gone. Joey – honey, if you’re reading this, send me a text to let me know you got home, ok? You know I worry.
I was busy keeping my eyes on Nicole to make sure she didn’t get crazy. She’s a lovely woman and very refined most of the time. But get a couple glasses of champagne in her and all of the sudden she thinks she’s a stripper and starts wanting to take her top off. Meanwhile, Betty is in a corner making out with some guy. I kept trying to tell her she could do better – but she was way into him. I can’t remember his name…but I think he was married to Jennifer Lopez at one time.
The rest of the evening gets a little fuzzy.
I woke up in a hotel room at the Standard, wearing Nicole’s bra and lying next to Ludacris. I don’t think anything happened – but I’m getting a pregnancy test, just in case. Nicole was passed out next to the toilet, and Betty was wide awake sitting still by the window while a swarthy tattoo artist inked her lower back. It was a rose, and around it were the words “Thank you for being a friend.”
Stunned, I gasped, “You’re getting a tramp stamp?”
She looked up and smiled, “Of course, dear. I’m getting one to match the one you just got.”
I need to find classier friends.
Love ya like my my rose tramp stamp “travel down the road and back again”,