Wonkette
The guy on the left is like 45 seconds away from a glassing. (Photo courtesy Liz Gorman)
Last night found Wonkette dressed to kill at the Hilton Washington Hotel for the 23rd-annual National Press Foundation awards dinner, where we mingled with the ink-stained wretches (and their TV peers, who looked a bit more comfortable in formal wear) and pretended to be real-life journalists. For a recap of the night’s big name guests, speeches, and awardees, you’ll probably want to go here or here. For a bunch of pictures of journalists looking awkward, you’ve come to the right place! We snuck in Wonkette photographer Liz Gorman (without telling our host or getting her a ticket, natch) to capture Washington’s best, brightest, and most adept at scoring free dinners in their unnatural habitat. Full gallery and heavily embellished recollections after the jump!
As we said, poor Liz couldn’t actually get in to the dinner itself, but the open bar was upstairs at the reception, so that’s where the journos congregated. The room filled up early and stayed packed up until the dinner’s scheduled start time, when the Hilton staff finally got everyone to head downstairs by hiding the bottles.
Our table was full of charming employees of a middle-eastern news service — they stuck us in the back so that DHS could grab us quick if we started any trouble — as well as an NPF representative (who kindly looked the other way while we tried to pick a fight with the Lockheed Martin table) and even a speechwriter for a Senior Administration Official (who kindly didn’t hear us when we said “Someone writes what he says?”).
Some highlights:
* National Geographic’s web staff was presented with the first award, their very own Powerpoint presentation.
* A confused Ed Henry locked himself in the parking garage and told everyone that the room was filled with nerve gas.
* After the moving slideshow by the Jim Amoss of the New Orleans Times-Picayune, we felt very very guilty about finding the Mississippi press’s short film, narrated by the movie trailer “In a world…” guy, kinda funny.
* Jack Germond: Oldest guy ever. Charmingly cantankerous!
* Charles Osgood: Avuncular!
* Expressing a desire, as one of our new friends did, to find Wolf Blitzer and “kick him in the balls” is really funny when done by a classy-looking lady with a lovely English accent. Sadly, we never saw him.
* Cissy Baker played a video of her grandfather, Senator Everett Dirksen, sort of rambling about lobbyists. It was kinda weird. Was this common back then? Did Senators just set up cameras in their offices and record themselves talking about nothing in particular? Actually, we bet Joe Biden still does this.
* We once again waited for the staff to physically put all the bottles away before we could be convinced to leave. On the way home, we stood in line at a 7-11 behind an inebriated scribe in a rumpled tux who was repeatedly verbally castigating himself for buying chewing tobacco. Rough night.
“Find the broad, ten will get you twenty and twenty will get you forty…”
What’s especially sad is that his Blackberry wasn’t even on.
Black tie, chainmail vest optional.
Now that Saint-ex is so over, hipsters are forced to ironically hang out at hotel bars.
Upset that Joie Chen told him to “grow a real beard.”
Just spent a long, frustrating hour trying to figure out a way to pop a tuxedo collar.
“Why yes, I am into World Music! How did you know?”
“Sam, Ziggy says you gotta convince Osgood not to ‘work blue’ tonight.”
“I’m not touching you. Does this bug you? Huh? Can’t get mad, I’m not touching you.”
Hilton employees ready the preserved head of Charles Kuralt for his keynote address.
