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Nancy W. Kappes (paralegal) is real and I have witnesses

So this weekend at the Blogher conference I co-hosted the People’s Party and it was very nice because everyone there had to apologize for accusing me of making up Nancy W. Kappes (paralegal) because SHE FUCKING CAME.  This is where you should go read all the “Nancy W. Kappes is not my personal Tyler Durden” posts if you are already lost because this is about to get confusing even for me and if you don’t know the background you’re fucked and should probably just skip this and instead just read about the time I scared Blair from “Facts of Life.

So Nancy shows up at Blogher carrying a big bottle of water which was actually straight vodka and carrying pictures of her kids, grandkids, and a trucker hat she’d had made for me.

Me, Nancy, hats.

Also, she brought her “Judy Garland Trailmix” and dumped it out on the bed so I could have first pick, which was very generous and ladylike, and I didn’t actually have any of them because I’d been drinking but she made me a doggie bag and called me a bitch, but in a really nice way.

This is totally for real, y'all

Then she started yelling about what tiny crap-hole hotel room me and my roomie were staying in and insisted we go to her giant suite across town but I reminded her that I was supposed to be hosting a party in a few minutes but then everything got kind of fuzzy and I can only assume she slipped me a roofie or I got a contact high from standing too close.  At one point she got lost and I was hiding in the bathroom having a serious conversation with a bunch of chicks and I can’t remember what it was about but I think it was about how someone’s pet llama had cancer or something  and then Nancy walks in and I can’t see her but I can tell it’s her because she’s all “OUT OF MAH WAY, BITCHES!” and then she sees me on the bathroom counter and waves offhandedly at me and then she kicked open the door to a stall and is all “Move, bitches!  I gotta take a piss”.  Then everyone in the bathroom got all quiet and kind of looked at each other all shocked like “What the fuck just happened?” and I’m all “By the way?  That? Is Nancy W. Kappes, y’all” and they’re all “NANCY W. KAPPES PARALEGAL?!” and I’m all “Totally” in kind of a smug, I-fucking-told-you-she-was-real sort of way and everyone got all wide-eyed like they’d just seen the ghost of Ringo Starr and then Nancy walks out of the stall and pulls out her trail-mix bottle and is all “Alright, line up, bitches! Who needs dope?” and some chick is like “Uh…you’re selling us pot?” and Nancy looks at her with aghast pity and is all “No, honey.  POT IS FOR FUCKING AMATEURS” and that’s when I wanted to put her in my pocket and take her with me everywhere.   Then I got pulled away to meet the sponsors and I told Nancy to stay there because our sponsors were pretty kid-friendly and I felt a little concerned about the people I left behind in the bathroom but then 10 minutes later they had formed like a giant Nancy-entourage and were following her everywhere and it was obvious that they were genuinely won over by her awesomeness because not enough time had passed for whatever pills she gave them to have kicked in yet.   Then I look over and see Nina from The Goodnight Show on PBS and she’s dressed in her signature pajamas and it was cool but very weird.  It was like if you threw a dinner party and suddenly you looked over and Captain Kangaroo was there.  Back when he was alive, I mean.  Not the decaying corpse of Captain Kangaroo.  That would be even more fucked up.  Then I look behind me and Nancy is assaulting our Crocs sponsor but he actually seems quite delighted about it and that’s when I was very glad that I hadn’t taken any of the pills she gave me yet because the whole thing was so surreal I would have suspected it was some sort of weird drug hallucination.

About 2am Nancy left for her hotel and I was kind of concerned that she wouldn’t make it back safely but she pulled out a card that already had her name, and the address of her hotel printed on it and pinned it to her shirt.  On the bottom of it was a phone number explicitly “for bail”.  True story.

Then she winked at me and placed her finger on the side of her nose and it was kind of like when Santa Clause goes up the chimney in that poem except I think maybe she was gesturing that she was going to snort something in the bathroom first.  Then she left and my roommate was all “Dude.  What…the fuck…just happened?” and I’m all “I have no idea.  But I think maybe it was awesome”.  And she’s all “Yeah.  I think it actually was awesome”.  And then we passed out.  The end.

PS.  Also, I asked PBS’s Nina to sign my boobs and she refused and then scampered off like a frightened bunny.  I totally forgot that even happened until now because of all the other shit that was going on.  That’s kind of the sign of a good party.  Or a terrible one.  Probably both.

PPS.  For real, y’all.  I’m not making this up:

Phone number pixelated to protect both Nancy and those who would contact her.

Comment of the day: Here’s my Nancy story: met her in the bathroom, exchanged some exchanges, we chatted with the housekeeper who was getting off soon. Nancy rooted for a few bills and graciously tipped the housekeeper, who then left. Seconds later, someone broke a glass in the bathroom. I had to fetch the housekeeper, who seemed more than happy to come back. I think Nancy is psychic and knew that was going to happen and pre-tipped. To ensure promptness. Nancy is the new Chuck Norris. ~ Deb on the Rocks

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