Fifty percent of Lost in Showbiz is in California this week. That's right, readers, er, bloggers, er, whatever - ain't no distance too great to keep us from hot gossip gathering for y'all. And while this isn't exactly gossip it's still a story to make this half of LiS proud to have retained her American citizenship after all these years.
OJ Simpson - for it was he - wandered into a Kentucky restaurant on Friday night, having worked up quite an appetite while hanging round town for the Derby. A customer was reportedly "giddy" with excitement, as you would be if you found yourself eating a cheeseburger next to a man who recently wrote a book fantasizing about what it would have felt like to kill his murdered ex-wife and her friend, not that he ever did such a thing, never ever ever.
The owner of the restaurant, a plucky Mr Jeff Ruby, asked Simpson to leave because, he told AP, "of my convictions." Simpson left and then promptly headed to his attorney to cry about having been denied his fries.
His attorney, Yale Galanter, a man who works for his paycheque, claims that this is an issue "about race", a comment which makes us laugh more than Weird Al Yankovitch's recent homage to James Blunt, You're Pitiful (though not as much as Yankovitch's cap doff to We Are the World, re-titled, as a full-on mass-artist whinge-fest, Don't Download This Song.) Galanter added, in a glorious example of a well-matched client and lawyer, "He screwed with the wrong guy. He really did."
Sleep tight, Mr Ruby.
