You should check out my fabulosity that will soon be gracing the Oscar red carpet. But enough about how delicious I’ll look. All of that shall come in diva time. It’s time to pour you a little Hollywood juice, people. Are you thirsty?
Now, it’s come high confession time that Clive Davis enjoys the pleasures of going in women’s pocketbooks and through men’s back doors. You feel me, people? I had a brief moment to sit with Clive to make inquiry on this business he has going on in his book, The Soundtracks of My Life. And it went like this, literally:
Beatrice: Now Clive, why are you deciding to reveal your secret? Did someone ask you?
Clive: No. Nobody asked but I wanted to tell.
There you have it, people. I couldn’t get much more out of him than that but based on my assessment, Clive wasn’t interested in me. I think he likes his lovers on the thin side, based on who I’ve heard he’s been with. Just know this, people. It’s never too late to be you, whoever that may be.
On another note, I have a very important public service announcement. There are people out there called “Apple Pickers” and they are aiming to grab and run with your Apple iPhone. It’s the latest craziness out here in the world, which means you have to watch your back, side and front when you’re in public talking on your iPhone.
These Apple Pickers are selling these devices for around $300. Don’t contemplate on whether you should fight to keep it or give it up. Give the thing up. There are more at the Apple Store, okay?
That’s all the time I have to spend with you today. There’s so much competition on the red carpet, I must invest a good portion of my time on looking beautiful. I wasn’t picked for presenting an Oscar. Jennifer Aniston was, however. I hope she doesn’t wear that same blah hairstyle. Francisco Pierre does a fine job on me in his basement over in Compton whenever I can catch an Airtran flight on the low. Maybe I should turn her on to him.
Most Sincere About Everything Hollywood,
Beatrice from Apt. 7B