This evening, I'll be headed to Brooklyn to attend a couscous dinner party hosted by my great and good friend ***REDACTED***. I have to admit (in a totes hetero way), that ***REDACTED*** is an extraordinarily handsome fellow- I've been razzing him for years that he's Morocco's answer to George Clooney. Hilariously, he related an anecdote of a cab ride in Shanghai (relax, people, he's no Thomas Friedman) during which the cab driver razzed him about looking like George Clooney... when the cab pulled up to the hotel in which he was staying, it stopped in front of a poster for the movie Ocean's Twelve which prominently featured a picture of Monsieur Clooney. Of course, the cabbie had to take photos of my friend in front of the poster, prompting passersby to follow suit. After hearing the story, I told my friend, "Don't feel too bad, think about all the times people ask George Clooney if he's ***REDACTED***." **
In the context of my last post, you can surmise that I'll be bringing a large bottle of limoncello to the party, so a pan-Mediterranean vibe can be achieved (my friend is Muslim, in the same sense that I'm a Catholic- there's a cultural connection, but the rules largely went out the window years ago... he fasts for Ramadan, but enjoys a glass of wine now and again)***
* We're gonna have a couscous party tonight... TONIGHT!
We're gonna have a couscous party alright... TONIGHT!
We've got nothing better to do,
Than hang around and eat a lot of couscous.
Don't talk about other foods, we won't wanna eat.
We've gotta say, couscous can't be beat!
** A joke I cribbed from my paternal grandfather, who was a dead ringer (down to the bowties) for John Houseman.
*** Another friend from Morocco will also be in attendance- he's a big, tough gent but a total lightweight... two beers and he's giddy as a schoolgirl. I can't imagine what a tipple of 100 proof booze will do to him, but I imagine he'll be hilarious.