Once in a while I tell secrets on my blog.
What the hell am I talking about? I have no secrets. I throw up every thought, feeling and experience like a kid on a roller coaster after gorging him or herself at The Golden Corral. You’re subjected to the constant diarrhea of my mental flow.
However, one time I did have a specific secrets post where I shared details about sunbathing nude on the rooftop of my former celebrity boss’ office and being called “carpetmuncher” as a child.
It’s been a few years since that post, so I’ve decided to add to the list:
-One time Jeremy Irons hit on me. At least I think he did. I’m assuming he thought I was someone else though. I was standing alone in the corner of a Toronto Film Festival party and he walked up, stuck out his hand and said, “Hiii, I’m Jerrrrrrremey” in his flirty English accent. Confused, I stuck out my hand quickly and said, “Hi, I’m Lauren” and then we stood there side-by-side in silence until I nervously walked away.