Liz asked Henry for a lil' chicken dance, Henry one-upped her with the 'Cambodia Shuffle'It was quite the star-studded affair in Washington D.C. Saturday evening for the annual White House Correspondents Dinner, perhaps the District's biggest social night of the year. This is the one where journalists and the politicos they cover congregate in an overt celebration of their inappropriate friendships -- you know, the ones that caused the Iraq War. All of America can drink to that! Obviously the public-at-large wouldn't care about a journalism party -- they are not for the soft-at-heart, or people who have lives -- if it weren't for the WHCD's other strange attraction, the liberal Hollywood Movie Star guests! Your Wonkette's associate editor and videographer/Polaroidist Liz Glover donned our best church clothes Saturday to witness the proceedings, and all we got were strange memories and a wretched purple umbrella that says "Bloomberg." The troubling story, below!

We entered the Washington Hilton around 6:30 and immediately saw famous musician Ashlee Simpson and her slave, "Pete Wentz," walking towards a Special red carpet entrance. Ashlee had brown hair and a fairly mutilated face -- that fat nose didn't come off easily.

At our cretins' entrance, we were able to dodge past a horde of "tweens," just like outside of TRL, all these brainwashed 12-year-old girls, SCREAMING AT THE TOP OF THEIR LUNGS AT THE CELEBRITIES WALKING IN. I assumed it was for Wolf Blitzer, who looked devilish in his shiny monkey suit. Liz says they were shouting for "Will.I.Am" the bad singer in that shitty Obama YouTube video where they make an awkward song out of a Hope speech. We negotiated and decided it was "The Jonas Brothers" for whom they were shouting. The Jonas Brothers are like Hannah Montana, but boys. Don't these kids have homework? MATH HOMEWORK?

Then we ran into the Washington Post's Reliable Source Amy Argetsinger in some circular garden. Amy said there was food at the Newsweek party. We headed to the Newsweek party to get drinks.

Lordy, what a guest list at this national magazine's party. We entered in line behind former Secretary of State/war criminal Henry Kissinger, who was surrounded by all these young gals.

It's truly astonishing how much of a hobbit Henry Kissinger is, in "real life." You don't understand -- he's actually Bilbo Baggins and Frodo Baggins too and he fights dragons. He burns rings in volcanoes. That is all we have to say about Henry Kissinger at the Newsweek party.

Who else did we see? Here are some Polaroids!

Famous Thank You For Smoking star Aaron Eckhart, who looked more confused than anyone (including ourselves).

Donatella Versace, some Fashion Thing!

Harold and Kumar stoner guy (terrorist!)

And make sure you are sitting in an upright position for this one folks. It might kill you. Here is Liz with Bowser himself, in the flesh. MARK PENN:

He was actually the nicest Polaroid subject of the night. Really very nice. Huh. Maybe he doesn't shit fire?


  • Liz took two (2) Polaroids with Newt Gingrich, and both times they didn't turn out. He is a banshee from space?
  • Martha Stewart was also there, but she actually hid behind a bar and pretended to read the information on a white wine bottle so as to avoid Liz's freakish camera. Isn't she supposed to be in jail or something? Willie Horton got a furlough, and look what he did.
  • We also ran into Wonkette Columnist Choire Sicha chatting up none other than former Wonkette editor Ana Marie Cox! Choire politely introduced me to her (yes, it was a first encounter), and Mrs. Cox went to talk to some other people.

This post is nearing a thousand words or so, so let's get to the very abbreviated big finish: We didn't go to the actual dinner; we didn't make it into the Bloomberg after party because I never RSVPed, but we did get caught trying twice; Colin Firth also didn't get into the after party because he didn't have a "b-unit" which is like a "Bloomberg Ticket"; the Straight Talk Express pulled up and Ana Marie Cox emerged from it behind Roberta McCain and Tucker Carlson; it was raining, we all got purple umbrellas, the end.


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