I think I’ve been invited to Caron Butler‘s birthday party. At least, I got an email saying so.
The party’s scheduled for Thursday at some nightspot called The Park at Fourteenth. I don’t think it’s going to be an intimate affair. The advertised host is Kim Kardashian. She’s known for being the daughter of an OJ attorney and for following fellow L.A. heir-head Paris Hilton into the home sex-tape biz.
Perhaps she’s a holdover from Caron’s days with the Lakers, before we got him and they got Kwame Brown.
I’ve never talked to Caron or even been within 20 rows of him. And, alas, I don’t think I’ll be meeting him at the club. At the bottom of the invitation, just below the RSVP details, there’s a disclaimer: “DRESS CODE RESTRICTIONS ARE AT MANAGEMENT’S DISCRETION AND PERTAIN NOT MERELY TO ARTICLES OF CLOTHING, BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY TO STYLE AND EXECUTION.”
I think what this means is even though I’m on the list, they would reject me on at least three grounds if I dared show up. But it’s nice to be invited, if that’s what happened.
I would like some cake.