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450 Degrees Of Cathy Seipp


Cathy Seipp with Ken Layne looking on, by Emmanuelle Richard

Last night, at the Figueroa Hotel, we roasted Cathy Seipp; a roast being a sort of tough-love humor session for somebody you care about. For those of you who weren't there, here's my little speech I gave at the roast.

Friends. Colleagues. Coke-snorting, baby-boiling, pet-fucking dumpster-lickers. Or, as Cathy would put it –- “West siders.”

I’m Amy Alkon, syndicated columnist, friend, and fan of Cathy Seipp, or, according to a lesbo-porn rumor started by Luke Ford, Gayle King to Cathy Seipp’s Oprah.

I’m here to give you a bit of history on Cathy Seipp -- the geopolitical, psycho-sexual, socio-economic history; or rather, how Cathy Seipp came to be a gay-marriage-bashing east-side slumlord.

Cathy was born with a plastic spoon in her mouth. Even worse, she was Canadian. Worse yet, she was from Winnipeg, the Gary, Indiana, of Canada. Like the fellow Winnipegian she, as a blogger, resembles most -- Rowdy Roddy Piper -- she’s been overcompensating ever since.

Ideologically, although Cathy identifies as Republican, her politics are really as follows: She’s right, everyone else is wrong, and unless they agree with her, they’re also stupid. But, no, you’re thinking, surely it goes deeper than that. And, to be fair, well...not really.

Cathy’s what we call a “pocketbook Republican.” In the words of a longtime friend, “It all has something to do with the received wisdom of the George Christy Scandal. Cathy saw how a good capitalist reporter always had free sweaters, limo rides, and a full bag of swag, and she thought, 'Why am I running with the liberal skank herd when the swag from selling out is so good?!'”

And so it went. Our one-time fashion writer of indeterminate political leanings crossed on over from the purse and shoes club to the Republican Skull & Bones, the Wednesday Morning Club. And, boy, did she pick up fast on the laissez-faire capitalism thing. These days, she even charges her own father rent. And things are so bad in one of her ghetto slumholdings, one of her tenants recently moved in with her dad. Oh yeah, and don’t forget the events Emmanuelle and I throw with Cathy for LA Press Club. No, Cathy we cannot do a book party for Lyndon Larouche.

Cathy claims to hate the left, but I say, follow the money and the glory -- oh yeah, and the free food -- and that’s where you’ll find Cathy Seipp. Yes, like a welfare mother on free government cheese, Cathy feeds her daughter with handouts from the TV Critics Association, then complains there are only cold cuts. Just a thought, but does does that sound like your average quietly WASPy gracious Republican?

No…you really have to hand it to Cathy -- like Ann Coulter and Condi, the truth is, she’s simply too smart to be a Democrat. After all, the Democratic party is just filled with black PhDs and pretty actresses in tight dresses. The Republican party, on the other hand, is open road! To money, power, fame, and what, deep down, is all our little Canadian immigrant Cathy really wants: to move to the west side…next door to Arianna…but in a slightly bigger house!

Posted by aalkon at September 11, 2006 11:46 AM

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That was hilarious, Amy. You seem to have Reverse Alzheimers: you just keep getting more sharp and insightful and WITTY with age. I want what you've got!

Posted by: Lena at September 11, 2006 8:52 AM

Funny, funny stuff. Both live and on paper... computer screen... whatever. ;)

Posted by: Julie Scott at September 11, 2006 9:59 AM

Excellent. Sorry I didn't make it; sounds like much fun. Not to mention a chance to meet all Cathy's "regulars."

Come to think of it, a few of those are scarifyin' enough in print.

Posted by: TE at September 11, 2006 10:58 AM

Thank you, Leaner...when you like it, I'm really happy.

Posted by: Amy Alkon at September 11, 2006 11:20 AM

Sure she hates the lfet. But if given half a chance she'd be all over George Clooney like a cheap suit.

As I said I probably wouldn't be able to make it -- and I didn't. But you had me on video.

Posted by: David Ehrenstein at September 11, 2006 11:33 AM

So, Amy, what were you wearing? Can you post a photo? (at least let us see your boobs!)

Posted by: Lena at September 11, 2006 1:33 PM

That's awesome. I love a good roast.

Posted by: Gary S. at September 11, 2006 4:37 PM

Amy, you did a fantastic job. Nancy and Hillary and I were talking about it last night and into today, just how good you were. As you do every task at hand, you obviously took it seriously and gave it proper attention and smart work. Cathy's lucky to have a friend like you, as we all are.

Posted by: Jackie Danicki at September 11, 2006 9:20 PM

Aww, thank you. And regarding Lena's comment, I believe Jackie has taken some photos, including one of my butt!

Posted by: Amy Alkon at September 11, 2006 10:26 PM

Heard some of Luke Ford's audio. You were great, LYT was great, but Rob Long killed with his welcome to blog readers.

Posted by: Crid at September 12, 2006 2:26 AM

Indeed, there is a photo of Amy's "yes, you can bounce a quarter off my perfect" ass over on Jackie's photos. I'll have you know that's my hand about to smack it!
This morning, before I left our hotel room, Jackie said, "Cathy's roast was so intimate." It was. And yes, Rob did kill, though I do think Jerry (Cathy's ex) elicited the biggest and longest laugh from Cathy herself; watching this laugh build on itself was wonderful. And Cathy looked wonderful--so regal!
I am at a loss as to how to sum this up, maybe that all of us hate the circumstances that brought us there, but wanted to be no place but there.

Posted by: nancy at September 12, 2006 9:19 PM

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