Wonkette

Because it was nice out, because we had made the decision while drunk the night before, because Liz has a thing for Clooney, and because we care about the people of Darfur, we stopped by the rally yesterday on the Mall. Lesson learned: It’s extremely easy to get into the press tent.

Not a whole lotta text this time, because we’ve written a books’ worth on that damn party by now. So enjoy the pictures, courtesy Liz Gorman, after the jump.

This sign confused us.

He wouldn’t let us blog there for Darfur. We hadn’t brought our laptop anyway.

This guy was giving a presser when we got to the media tent. Then someone interrupted him with “LAST CALL FOR CLOONEY SHOT” and the room emptied immediately.
“Uh, why, yes, I’m Big and/or Rich.”
Shortly after the deployment of the journalist-wrangling cones, shortly before the cones became a joke.
Look closely, now: BEST PRESS BADGE EVER. Seriously, we wish we’d thought of it. “We’re with the PRESS MEDIA.”

Eventually, the press just scattered across the entire backstage. After a brief attempt to reign them in with cones, a couple made it on stage. A beleaguered press wrangler found the most apt, if inappropriate analogy: “We’re like the African Union troops.”

The baseball caped guys were handling press. Valiant effort, but when you’re getting muscled by, like RCN, you should throw in the towel.
Manute Boll! Christ, he was tall!

He promised a Clooney photo op. And still, they disobeyed. The cones were useless.
Not the most flattering angle, but you should’ve seen the ones we didn’t use.

This was under the stage. No idea why. Yes, it’s White Chocolate.

ATTENTION PRESS: WE HAVE SPOTTED AN EASY METAPHOR.

Clooney escaped most questions, though after he made it offstage, they swarmed the formerly unavailable speakers tent. The rent-a-cop was just able to keep them at bay. We went home.