This will be the most self-serving “Excess Hollywood” column I’ve ever written. You see, this is a personal plea to Don Cheadle and Don Cheadle alone. I need him to come to my house for dinner, and this is the only way I know how to get his attention.
When the remake of Ocean’s Eleven first came out, I tried my hardest to convince my wife that I had won a contest on iWon.com. The prize? Don Cheadle was coming to our house for dinner! I told her we had to make a fantastic meal because it was Don Cheadle, and he was used to fancy cooking. This charade went on for weeks, with me saying things like, “Just two more days until Mr. Cheadle rings our buzzer.”
My wife never believed me.
After I finally confessed to the lie (like a year later), I told her that somehow, some way, I would get Don Cheadle to show up at our pad for dinner one day. I didn’t know how I’d do it, but I would somehow pull it off. Then I set a plan in motion.
I contacted Film Threat and started reviewing films. After doing that for an ungodly amount of time, Chris Gore offered me a weekly column. I had planned on this happening. It was either Film Threat or Ain’t It Cool News, and there was no way I was going to write for that site. I have standards.
After the column caught the eye of Hollywood’s elite, I knew it was time to make this plea. Don Cheadle, if you are reading this (and I know you are), please e-mail me so that we can set up plans for you to visit for dinner. I promise you I am not a stalker (unless you turn out to be Tori Spelling), and I swear I won’t try to poison you or anything. I am not a closet member of any racist organization, and I have never voted Republican … or Democrat for that matter. I’m just an average joe who made his wife some insane promise that you would join us for dinner one day, and you are the only guy who can make that happen.
I’m a pretty good cook, as is my wife. If there’s something you want that we can’t make, we’ll take you out for a meal. The people here in Eureka, CA are pretty laid back. They won’t point at you or bug you for autographs (though I heard people hounded the hell out of Matthew Perry when he was in town, but that’s understandable). What do you say? A free meal, hanging out with one of America’s most hated columnists, and I can even give you some porno movies if you collect such things. Honestly, it would make my f*****g day.
Next week I’ll be back on track with my regular column. Perhaps I’ll even be running a letter from Mr. Cheadle’s lawyers that mentions things like “restraining orders” and “psychiatric evaluations.” Then again, if I’m really lucky, I’ll be telling you all the off-color jokes I made to Mr. Cheadle as he enjoyed some of my chipotle mashed potatoes. Hey, you never know.
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