Confessions of a Chick in Paris

Confessions of a Chick in Paris

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Everyone Has a Story: Women in Capes

May 24, 2010 , , , , , ,

As my writing brain sprouts anew like a pesky yet captivating foot fungus, I’m noticing that everyone has a story.

These back-stories begin with the tiniest of details, only to explode into something epic. And that’s why I shall post these tales on the Internet, the one place certain to survive Apocalyptic doom.

Today’s tale begins with a shiny red cape, or two for that matter. It wasn’t Superman, but instead a couple of Conan O’Brien groupies, ready to impress for his Saturday night show in Toronto.

We first experienced their captivating grace as they lumbered past us, beers in both hands, and lust for a certain middle-aged comedian dripping from their giant bottom eye-lids. They didn’t look related, but that two non-related women had bottom eye-lids the size of cereal bowls? Genetically implausible.

I moved on quickly to their flowing red capes, and for the rest of the night I’d stay heavily obsessed.

How had these two grown women, with Conan O’Brien t-shirts which you’d THINK would indicate “fan”, decided that glossy red capes would add to a groupie profile? And how did they procure said high-quality capes?

Well let’s just say that if you spend enough time staring into someone’s colossal lower eyelids, you can find out a lot…

…Three weeks before the show, the Conan groupies were huddled around the fire, in the oak tree dwelling they shared, a little down the way from bustling Toronto (reasoning for tree house remains unknown). Never asking themselves if it’s a good idea to burn a fire in a TREE, the groupies huddled in closer. They weren’t best friends or anything, but huddling was the best way to share the juicy deer leg they’d attained from the afternoon’s hunt.

Conan groupie #1: “Stop eating my side of the deer leg!…You know we could’ve just had those turkey burgers I picked up at Whole Foods.”

Conan groupie #2: (sneering through deer-blood-tainted teeth): “Don’t complain because you had to skin the deer; who de-boned the bison last week? Huh?!”

With this much tension in the ranks, would the groupies even make it to the show without a blood bath?

Just then, a fairy godmother appeared.

The groupies looked on in amazement as she spoke: “Conan O’Brien doesn’t like fighters, he likes winners, and what does a winner look like?”

Conan groupie #1: “A Kenyan marathon runner?”

Conan groupie #2: “Any human? Since humans are the top of the food chain?” Her eyes glistened with renewed hunting fever as she spoke.

“No! A winner is Batman, or Superman, or Robin…no wait, not Robin, eww. Just wear a cape to the show, and no other groupie will be like you; which means YOU’LL be the ones he’ll ravish after final curtain.”

The groupies squealed as the fairy godmother floated away. A minute later they realized it wasn’t Halloween season…so how on earth would they fashion a cape?

Just then, an army of mice climbed up into the tree. There was no need to scream, as the mice were equipped with glossy red fabric and shiny sewing tools…enthusiastic mice slaves fit for Cinderella. I’m not sure how I’d feel about rodents handling my garb, but for tree-dwelling girls who were lame in the womanly arts?


Back at Massey Hall for Conan O’Brien’s show, I leaned back with a sigh of understanding…so THAT’s their story. I wondered though: how would these groupies seduce the worldly Conan, from way up in the balcony?

Well they’d jump of course, and use their capes to glide down to safety! It was all making sense now.

But…they didn’t jump. The show ended, and they exited the building with us…not even one Conan-grope.

Part of me wanted to follow those shiny red capes, down the wooded lane and right to their oak-tree haven. I could’ve, but I’m pretty sure I know how it ended:

-Conan groupie #1 retired her cape, and left the tree of despair, for the freedom of one-bedroom apartments and turkey burgers. Conan groupie #2 accidentally burned down the tree, after a rabbit-cookout-for-one gone wrong. She didn’t survive.

That was actually really depressing, but it’s not like I promised snuggly fairytales. It’s just the deer meat of life, as devoured by my fungal writing brain…


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Your foot fungus is the best foot fungus on the whole wide internet Romi! I wanted this post to go on little longer …

I’d never thought about the lower eyelid thing before. I think we’d call it “St. Bernard Eyes” here in the USA. And fan-insanity is never depressing, just amusingly sad.

I propose an alternate Conan Groupie ending. After the show they went to a gay bar and had gin and tonics. With lemon instead of lime. No they’re not gay. Around 12:30 they called it a night grabbed a taxi home. The End.


May 25, 2010

I think every one of my posts should have an alternate ending šŸ˜‰

PS: LOL…St Bernard eyes! I shall remember that forever!!!


May 31, 2010

You are out of control. ā¤


May 25, 2010

I will take that as a compliment šŸ˜‰ …lubz you!!


May 31, 2010

Just know I’m sending you a shiny red cape šŸ™‚ hahahahahaha homg this post was tttooo much!!!!!!


May 25, 2010

I was in a “too much” kind of mood, it was quite freeing actually…should do it more often šŸ˜‰


May 31, 2010

I found myself teetering between reality and fantasy. Very funny šŸ™‚


May 25, 2010

oh, it’s such a fine line Bisi!

PS: hope you’re well, I’m due to send you an email! šŸ™‚


May 31, 2010

You’d look amazing in a cape Romi. Recently I saw a woman with an underwear cape. Don’t ask.

Yo' Momma

May 25, 2010

Okay…but I actually want to know all about that underwear cape..

PS: were you the one wearing the underwear cape?


May 31, 2010

Sounds like there was a bar at the show and someone was working on the vodka. And I’m not talking about the superheroes. LOL


May 25, 2010

hahaha…would you believe that I was sober during the show???…probably not šŸ˜‰


May 31, 2010

That’s delightful–you are always so creative!


May 26, 2010

that is such a sweet comment to make in the midst of my craziness, thank you Scott! šŸ˜€


May 31, 2010

That is amazing! I didn’t know that all of the information of the world could simply be attained by looking into the drooping horrid eyelid of woods-people. Man, I gotta come to Canada. We just have white trash idiots here. You can tell their stories by how much alcohol you smell on their breath at 9am. It’s not exciting… no meat, no capes, no burning tree! WTF?!


May 27, 2010

“drooping horrid eyelid of woods-people”….hahaha, I had no idea how much potential Canadians had, yay for our kind!! šŸ˜‰


May 31, 2010

You have now managed to make me feel self-conscious about my cape collection… thank you, Romi šŸ˜‰


May 30, 2010

I haven’t decided what would disturb me more: if you had a closet full of capes in every colour, or a closet full of capes in just red…hmm… šŸ˜‰


May 31, 2010

Romi, you nailed it. I just love this post and it really tickled my fancy.

And, Justin, you need a shout-out for your line “drooping horrid eyelid of woods-people.” Fabulous!

hahaha…yes Justin deserves a shout out that was an AWESOME description! šŸ˜€

And I LOVE tickling people’s fancies!…ahem.



June 6, 2010

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