Guest Post: Brooks' Latest Envious Encounter

[Ed. note: My LA pal Brooks is back with another to-die-for celeb encounter. Let's just say this one is totally fetch, but not in a way that involves her precious pup Miles. Bad pun! On with the story!]

From Brooks: I knew that last night was going to be monumental when I miraculously fit into my skinny jeans. A white pair from Sophomore year, I almost cried when they buttoned. I'd like to attribute this feat to a healthy diet and exercise regime, but I'm pretty sure it's because my new apartment doesn't have a kitchen. For the last 2 months, while everyone has been dining on delicious lamb shanks or whatever you people have for dinner, I have been watching Bachelor Pad, trying to distract myself from how delicious my dog looks. It was a pathetic journey, but I fit into my skinny jeans and couldn't be happier. I felt like Miranda on that SATC episode where she just had a baby and she forgets to eat and can fit into her skinny jeans too and they go to that bar called Bed and they later get arrested for smoking weed but she talks to cop out of it and they end up eating pie at some diner. Or something.

Skinny jeans aside, Saturday night was monumental for two reasons. First, I was front row at a Kanye West concert, using tickets I did NOT have to pay for (thanks 72andSunny!). And second, because I had the most unreal celebrity encounter of all time. Yes, more unreal than when Miles pooped in front of Kate Middleton. [Ed note: I disagree. Nothing is more unreal than having a moment with Kate Middleton. NOTHING!]

I had so many more friends in jail.

As I said, I was front row at Kanye West for the Call of Duty XP event--aka Activision is a client of the ad agency where I work, they were coming out with a new COD game, we got to go, #swag. THE SHOW WAS UN REAL. Kanye played the best set list ever, his show was so entertaining, and I was screaming my face off to every song. And let's not forget, I was front row, so there was literally only a gate and a few body guards separating me from the stage. It was AMAZING.

About 45 minutes into the show, a few of us realized that none other than Lindsay Lohan had arrived and was standing in the wings merely 10 feet away from us. Score! Well, I guess Lindz wasn't getting enough attention out in the wings, because she decided to walk into the galley between the gate and the stage and sit down on a chair that was underneath my elbows. I was trying not to whack her in the face while simultaneously being seduced by her very bizarre hair weave. I was dying, and took about 500 pictures that I immediately Beluga-ed to everyone I knew.

I also took about 500 pictures of the show because it was, as I said, AMAZING. I was showing off one picture in particular to my friend Victoria when I heared a voice from below say in a very hoarse tone, "Hey. Don't take pictures of me."

Um, I'm sorry, did Lindsay Lohan just...talk to me?

Sure enough, Lezlo herself, in all her meth-faced glory, was looking me in the eye. Naturally, I decided to respond saying, "Lindsay! I didn't take a picture of you! Look!". I showed her my phone to prove that, in fact, the photo was not of her. The next thing that happened is so outrageous, I can't believe it is real.

"Oh my god I love your bracelet, where did you get it?"

LINDSAY LOHAN TOOK MY iPHONE OUT OF MY HAND and began to scroll through my photo gallery, trying to see if there were any photos of her on my camera. Meanwhile, I am PEEING MY SKINNY JEANS because I know that if she scrolls two photos to the left, she will see about 100 pictures of her face/shoulders/weird weave. Inside, I am screaming, "Scroll right, scroll right!!!" as sloppy Lilo goes through the photos. I've never been more thankful for a drinking problem IN MY LIFE. 

Finally it gets to the point where she realizes there are no photos of her and thus becomes bored. She mumbles "It's just...I look like fat from that angle," where we all decide to respond, "No girl! You look great!". And right as I think she might actually be stealing my cell phone, she hands it back saying, "I thought you were being a perv." Uh, thanks?

For the rest of the night, Crazy Train decides that we are buds, interacting with us far more than we're comfortable with. "All of the Lights" comes on and my friend Victoria screams because it's her favorite song. Lindsay yells to her over the music, "Is it about an ex boyfriend?" and all of us say "Yeah..." knowing pretty well that it's not about an ex boyfriend whatsoever. "Obviously," she says as her shoulder straps falls down, revealing her bra. At this point, we are all feeling generally alarmed.

She continued on with various ridiculous antics, my favorite of which was when she somehow got a hold of the event photographer's camera and started taking "artsy" stage shots. Because I was literally over her shoulder, I could see the display screen of the camera and the photos she was taking were TERRIBLE. All of them were blurry, off center, the lights turned off and she didn't use a flash...oh my god. Lock it up!!

Well clearly she needs to look for a new career path...but I don't think this is it.

Finally the concert ended and she was whisked away--extending no invite to any sort of after party. We all let out a huge sigh of relief, glad to be away from the scary blonde skeletor with sticky fingers. Five minutes later, we walked home barefoot and ordered a pizza. 

So yes, that is the story of the night Lindsay Lohan kind of stole my phone. It is also the story of the night I was front row at a Kanye concert. Additionally, it was the story of the night a crazy drunk blonde girl kept waving at Kanye West and he didn't wave back. 

But most importantly, that is the story of the night I fit into my skinny jeans!!!!!!

LEGENDARY!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thanks, Brooks, we're so glad we have you to live vicariously through! Now book your trip to Vegas when Prince Harry is there!!!!