“Get The Boobs:” WH Correspondents Dinner Vignettes
North Carolina bloggers will be delivering a letter to Liddy Dole, telling her to stop the RNC attack ads against Obama. You can sign the letter here. And if you’re a kossak, please go recommend Hekebolos’ diary on it — jh
Every year, I read dispatches from the WH Correspondents Dinner and wonder how on earth it can become even more of a self-mockery. This year is no exception:
The president admitted to being "a little wistful" in his final appearance at the dinner, showing video clips of his routines from previous years. He finished by conducting the U.S. Marine Band in a medley of patriotic marches….
Ferguson…asked Bush what he was going to do after leaving office, then suggested, "You could look for a job with more vacation time." The president has drawn criticism for the amount of time he has spent away from the White House during his presidency.
Vice President Dick Cheney, Ferguson said, "is already moving out of his residence. It takes longer than you think to pack up an entire dungeon."
Patriotic marches conducted by Bushie? Followed by a "rule of law" medley, perchance? Lovely snippets from the after parties from the WaPo:
Digital camera in hand, a slightly drunk guest at the Bloomberg party teetered by us early Sunday and stopped short. "I’m taking a picture of Pamela Anderson," she announced to her date.
"Get the boobs," he said.
Get the boobs, indeed. There’s more:
So many questions: Was it a bad thing when reporters and sources got drunk and pretended to not hate each other? Do half-naked actresses enhance the First Amendment debate? Would it be wrong to ask Rob Lowe — who worked the Hilton ballroom like an old pol — about his nanny issue? Should we care what British actor Rupert Everett (taller than you expect) thinks about the dinner?
"Hideous," he said flatly. "One of the most hideous events I’ve ever been to."
Everett was leaning against a massive two-sided bar in the midst of what looked like a white Shaker/Roman amphitheater. Donatella Versace (smaller than you’d expect, except for those inflated lips) stood nearby posing for pictures. At one end of the room: A bleacher of benches, from which CIA Director Michael Hayden stared at Versace staring at the Jonas Brothers. On the tippy-top row, smack in the middle, Meghan McCain, a blond beacon in turquoise….
A gaggle of models in blond wigs and porn-stewardess costumes floated by Goldman Sachs Vice Chairman Bob Hormats talking Iraqi economic development with Lt. Gen. Bill Caldwell, shadowed by an aide in full uniform carrying a briefcase. Also: Will.I.Am, Mexico’s "Brad Pitt" Eduardo Verastequi (adorable) and "American Idol" voted-off contestant Michael Johns (also adorable), who said Condi Rice told him: "You’re a great singer. You got robbed."….
Weird? Totally. Same thing over at Capitol File’s party at the Newseum, where fancy lamb chops, cute snacks (jelly beans, chocolate-covered pretzels), champagne and wrist-wrenching swag bags could not mask the fact that the place was filled mostly with pretty party people — non-media, non-political types with no connection to the dinner — and damp stragglers from Bloomberg….
Wait, media party swag?!? Woodward and Hitchens books, seriously ugly handbags and botox for everyone! (And, before anyone asks, this is not a Meghan McCain homage that I know of…) Froomkin calls it the "party of the damned." Favorite line?
…Ferguson grinned sheepishly. The newspaper, the comic told the dinner’s 2,500 guests, skipped the festivities because it felt the event undercut the credibility of the press. "Funny, I thought that Jayson Blair and Judy Miller took care of that."
Burn, baby, burn.
PS: Big hugs to TRex.