What’s the best thing about any party (if you can’t drink or if you’re a bitch, preferably both, a la moi)?

Gossiping about it! Duh.

Last night was the SF Appeal Holiday Party at PariSoMa and Jesus Christ, Eve. Who were those people?

I met one gentleman who, when I asked him if he was a big Appeal
reader goes, “My cousin tell me come here.” He could not have been more
pleased orange juice was available, which he put in his plastic cup,
held up to me and said, “Oran joo.”

Apparently, the party listing made it onto the FunCheap
website, so anyone and everyone showed up, including the fun and, as
evidenced by the empty booze bottles, the cheap. At one point I looked
up and saw a steady stream of people just walking in the door, and I
leaned over to Brock. “Don’t know them, don’t know them, who are
they…WHO IS HE!”

Actually, the only person I saw trying to hook up was my “date”, Big Chris who found some poor woman to try and bang.

And now, here’s my lower tax bracket version of the C-Big who’s who:

Obviously Appeal Founder, our hostess and my hero, Eve Batey and her lover, Tim the Trainer were there. They’d secured 200 bottles of beer from Trumer Pilsner (Thanks Trumer!) and provided some booze and mixers, having no idea who and how many would show up. Turns out, everyone showed up.

Katie from Handjobbin’ DJed, which was fabulous because people danced. I didn’t know people still danced at parties. Appeal writers Christine, Ramona, Jackson, Richard and Chris (and his rad girlfriend Blaze) mingled with the masses. Loads of blogging types showed up, including Greg of N Judah, Benjamin Wachs of the Weekly, SFist contributor Chris Jones, DJ Tennessee (that’s
him playing the air keytar behind his head), The Brians of Calitics and Brock of SFist (obviously).

I gushed over TK from 40 Going on 28
for ages, I was so goddamn excited to meet him and his lovely wife.
Sometimes, I get a little stuck talking to someone who really likes my
blog and I smile and nod until I’m allowed to go. I really turned the
tables on TK with that one, but whatever. Amidst my blogging crew, 40
Going on 28 is hot stuff.

The Men of VidSF and PariSoma were hanging out, including Kieran, Steve, Ray and Julian.
Some woman (?) asked me about the PariSoma space and, well, she (?)
seemed a little weird so I pawned her (?) off on Julian. I had no
choice. She (?) came up to me and said, “Oh, I’ve seen your videos!
They’re great!”

“Thanks!” I beamed.

“You host those tech round tables, right?”

Um, no.

Beth H. (my better video half) and her husband Adam showed up, as did Sunny Angulo. No word if any of the tech round table types showed up.

Political types included Rebecca Prozan and Scott Weiner, both running for Supervisor in District 8, Debra Walker running in D6, Community Garden Board Member Steve Ngo, my secret lovah Paul Henderson, Judson True (direct from his book club) on behalf of the busses,  and the charming Chuck Finnie.

The bar was sucked dry, people had started to dwindle out, and the dregs of the beer sat
festering in cups. Eve started apologizing to randoms who came up
looking for free hooch.

Suddenly, an entourage carrying A TON of booze and cases of PBR
marches in and some man screams, “Move it, Spotswood,” slamming 2
handles of Seagrams down on the bar.

Oh, hello, Supervisor Chris Daly. Happy Holidays.

I counted 4 trannies, which, odds wise, lets you know how many
people were there and 1 older gentleman wearing a rainbow ski hat and
reindeer antlers which lit up.

Brian and I said hello to him and reindeer head says, “Hello Beth.
I very much enjoyed your ski trip in Reno. When will we see the Santa

Oh, er, uh. Thanks! It’ll be up any day!”

Obviously reindeer head is really a genius with fabulous taste and WiFi.

I’m probably forgetting a myriad of lovely people but honestly,
that place could not have been more packed. Overall, I think the soiree
was a smashing success. And I hope all of those “new friends” become
active readers, commenters, lovers and promoters of the Appeal.

Because next party? I’m bringing my own Diet Coke and getting the hell out of Chris Daly’s way…

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