I’ve been pondering what my ideal posse would look like; a group of diabolically-awesome people with whom I could shoot the shit (and walk in slow motion).
But to assemble the prime posse, I must first put aside the pesky restrictions of reality.
This might be considered an exercise in stalking, but I prefer to think of it as creative friendshipping (and will cease and desist from saying, if these peeps could only meet me we’d be best friends forever … ever… ever) (creepy echo).
My brothers used to get their jollies from strapping my Barbie to the family combie as a hood ornament (and comedic roadkill). I recall the moment where I could either do the slow-cry of a Barbie-less existence or admit, that’s hilare. (I stand by my decision to go with the latter.)
It’s with this posse preface that I inaugurate my first members – Will Ferrell, Owen Wilson, Jason Bateman and Paul Rudd. If Ben Stiller feels left out and asks Owen (to ask me) if he can come too … yes Ben, you can. (But only if you randomly channel White Goodman, sidling up to strangers and stating “nobody makes me bleed my own blood”.)
The fact I’ve fancied Paul Rudd as far back as Clueless is a slight infraction of the posse bylaws; but the Rudd majorly cracks me up, so he’s in. Right?
Next, one must balance the juvies with some innately cool daddios; so I hereby add Clint Eastwood, Christopher Walken and Willie Nelson. We’d hang separately to my boy crew – maybe over some scotch and Cubans. Willie would jam on his plaits ‘n’ guitar, Walken would be simultaneously hilare and terrifying; and Clint would brood intelligently in the corner.
Of course, I’d feel intrinsically inadequate in a grouping such as this, but such is the price of cosmic gold, my friends.
Like a fine wine, a great posse has many influences; and mine would be incomplete without the comedic chops of Tina Fey, Bill Murray and Joan Cusack (so added). Bill and I would routinely sit on a park bench, sipping lattes and making pithy observations of passers by. Occasionally, we’d reenact scenes from Groundhog Day and Ghostbusters.
Add to this mix a dash of punk-rock awesomeness in the form of Pink (to whom I bow down), brunch with Betty White and Sandra Bullock, the odd fundraiser with Michael J.Fox and occasional (wuccadoody) bender with Jack Black and John Cusack. In round up, I feel I must sneak in another bylaw infraction with Noel Fielding and a hummener hummener shout out.
And last but definitely not platonic, Robert Downey Jr … who will always dominate my heart and DVD collection. (You know that’s right.)