don't eat the brown scones

Wow, it's hard to believe that so much time has passed so quickly.  My lucky tie is back from the cleaners, which means it's been a full week since CNN's Election Nite Blog Party at Tryst in DC.  And given that we live in such an accelerated culture, I'm thinking it must be time for a revival.  They're already reviving raver clothes from 1994, so why can't we have a revival of last week?  I mean, things have changed so fast since then.  Kids this week, they don't get it like we did, you know, last week.  It was all so different then.  We were there, but we had no way of knowing that we were launching a global phenomenon.  We were just having fun, you know?  Just a bunch of scrappy, happy-go-lucky bloggers doing our thing and sticking it to The Man.

At least, I think.  CNN's The Man, right?  We were there drinking coffee and soaking up bandwidth on their tab, right?  So, YEAH!!  We were STICKING IT TO THE MAN by coming to His party and eating and drinking and making a scene and all we had to do in return was consent to be filmed.

Looking back, the people we should thank first are CNN producer Alex Wellen and our on-air hosts, Abbi Tatton and Jacki Schechner.  They worked tirelessly throughout the night to keep the energy flowing, direct traffic, and fulfill the unenviable role of chaperones to two groups of people who haaaaaaaaaaate each other all gathered in one room.

From Wonkette: 

Blogger-Slumber-Party-05.jpg

It was weird, even when the cameras weren’t on her, Jacki Schechner kept talking into the big CNN mic and throwing it back to Wolf.

Seriously, though.  This is an actual conversation I heard after last call:

Jacki Schechner: Abbi, the bar's going to close, you want me to order you something?

Abbi: (Heavy sigh) Not.  Allowed.

Jacki: No, I mean just to set aside for us when we're done, couple glasses of wine? 

They really were working their tails off, those lovely girls.  They were probably the only non-recovering people in the room who weren't getting sloshed, poor lambs.  If I had been really hip and cool, I would have stuck around for the Aftah-Party and plied them both with vodka martinis, but alas, I started fading hard after the 217th time my internet connection went down.  The room was starting to spin.  That was about when Jeralyn went by and whispered, "Don't eat the brown scones, maaaaan.  They're sending people on some real heavy trips."

I never got to ask her what she meant.  That was when the Red Hot Chili Peppers hit the stage and the riot started.

 riot!!

No, seriously.  It was a lovely event.

Everybody thought so.

NYT:

Even so, many of the biggest names in political blogging — including John Aravosis of Americblog, John Amato of Crooks and Liars, Glenn Reynolds of Instapundit and Mr. Morrissey of Captain’s Quarters — had been corralled by a member of the mainstream news media, CNN, at Tryst, a trendy Washington coffeehouse, last night.

Constantine Stavropoulos, the owner of the cafe, said he had closed its doors for the “blog party,” which the network periodically broadcast and streamed online. He said he expected the bloggers — an attractive bunch, he said — to linger long after the votes were in.

“Bloggers look a lot better than I thought they would,” Mr. Stavropoulos said.

Yeah, but it looks like this Reich Winger didn't get the "good-looking" memo:

Blogger-Slumber-Party-04.jpg

Dude from Ankle Biting Pundits in the sexiest pic of the night. (Wonkette)

This was the guy who was loudly and fatuously proclaiming at 7:00pm or so that there was "no fucking way" the Democrats would take the House.  Heh!  In the words of Brad at Sadly, No!

Warning: the following is an example of extreme childishness and poor sportsmanship. You have been warned.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAA!!!!

YOU LOSE, JERKS!! YOU LIGGITY, LIGGITY, LIGGITY LOOOOOOOOOSE!!!! L-O-S-E, LOSE, LOSE, LOSE! L-O-S-E, LOSE, LOSE, LOSE!!!!

Yeah, Ankle Biter Dood!  How was your first night at LOSER SCHOOL?  I hear they have a great course where they teach you to evolve a thumb!  I think you might want to look into that. 

But what else is this I spy at Sadly, No!?  Ace from Ace of Spades HQ had a problem with my lack of manners that night:

A Reason For Optimism: “The left… is going to keep letting the nasty peek through”
—Ace

Ah, the Left. Arrogant, vindictive, vicious, and insulting in defeat, and arrogant, vindictive, vicious and insulting even in victory.

Uh, do what, now?  This is Ace, right, Mr. "Ohhhh, I Hate Them, Hate, Hate, Hate", right?  The man who freely admits that he has "no leg to stand on when it comes to ham-handed bashing that comes off as assholishness"?  Hrm.  Let's see exactly what has the poor dickhead's panties in such a painful twist.

Oh, it's because I hurt pretty little Mary Katherine Ham's feelings: 

Leave it to the Nutroots to be b**chy even when they're winning. He ended up snarling about me (and others) on his blog after being perfectly sweet to me at the party. I guess I didn't get the memo that the blog party was, like, OMG! actually a junior-high dance, and we were supposed to pass notes about the other people behind their backs after we talked to them.

I got introduced to Mary Katherine Ham, who, it turns out, shares my alma mater, the University of Georgia. She went to journalism school there, which might explain her execrable writing. She's the blogger who viewed the infamous "Call me!" ad about Harold Ford, Jr. and pronounced that cries of racism were baseless and that the ad was cute and funny.

Yeah. Don't forget to take your Dramamine before you go floating down the River of Denial Mary Katherine.

Yes, dear, I was perfectly sweet to you UNTIL YOU TOLD ME WHO YOU WERE.  And then, if you will recall, I politely excused myself.  And trust me, darlin'.  That's the way you wanted it.  Otherwise I would have stood there and told you exactly what I think of you and your position as Reich Wing water-carrier.  Maybe you don't realize it, sugar-pie, but the Iraq War is NOT A FUCKING TAILGATE PARTY.  Thousands of American soldiers and hundreds of thousands of Iraqis have died in vain.  So, while I am sure you're a lovely person, kind to animals and children and generally clean and well-behaved, I can't in good conscience stand around and swap pleasantries with you as we nosh on bleu cheese fondue.  You work for war criminals, little girl!  Quod erat demonstrandum, babe, we can't be friends.  Not now.  Not ever.

But really, the highlight of the whole night was when Ann Althouse downed her ninth or tenth Shiraz and jumped up on a table and started singing Amazing Grace like Joan Baez at Live Aid, and tried to get us all to sing along!

"This is your Woodstock!" she crowed, "And it's long overdue!"

She, too, got herself into a bit of a snit when I didn't leap from my chair like a performing monkey to make nice with her.  

Here's the truth, Ann, and it's kind of embarrassing, but I think you'll understand.  I had just come in from the cold street and I was worried that if I stood up, my nipples would be visible through my white dress shirt, and I know how bent out of shape you get when people don't know their place and neglect to make themselves as un-sexy and dour as possible for blogging events, since you are the blogosphere's doyenne of morality and fashion.  I was just saving you from the living hell of having to write a week of posts with titles like, "Let's take another look at TRex's nipples!".  I was doing it for your own good, lady! 

Right.

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