Veal

The other day I was dining at a trendy Hollywood eatery when a starlet I had reviewed in a porn film approached me with venom and malice.

“I don’t understand half the things you write,” she said.

“What about the other half?” I asked.

“I think that’s dumb, too.” I had accused her of appearing zombie-like in a movie that had no zombie budget.

“What are you eating – veal?” she asked. She’s a vegetarian.

“Yes,” I said, “but my food wasn’t sent to you by your publicist for me to review.”

She turned to get her order. She was wearing Juicy sweatpants over which peaked the top of her thong, just above a – you guessed it – coccygeal butterfly tattoo.

“You guys should try getting a cock in your ass some time,” Thongtop Juicypants said.

“I will discuss it with my rabbi,” I said.