Lies That Chelsea Handler Told Me - Chelsea's Family, Friends [30]
“No, not at all,” Chelsea said, sounding concerned. “We just found him wandering the parking lot, lost and scared, and we brought him in, poor thing.” Then she turned toward Chunk, got on one knee, and said, “What’s your name, little puppy? I think he must be lost.” She turned back to the hotel employee and said, with a completely straight face, “I don’t even know if this is a dog. It might be a cat.”
I was stunned, and it took all my might to keep from laughing. There was no way this guy would believe that. First of all, Chunk is clearly a dog. He was also perfectly groomed, had dog tags, and looked totally at home in the room. Plus, how many guests at a five-star resort, upon finding a one-hundred-pound stray dog, instead of calling the front desk, bother to take it in and put it up for the evening?
The man stared at Chelsea. I was sure we were busted. But all he said was, “Oh, okay. That was nice of you. If you need any assistance with the dog… or the cat in the morning, let us know.”
Either he was the biggest idiot ever, or Chelsea Handler is the best liar in the world. As I’ve found out on several occasions, it’s definitely the latter. And the following lies have permanently scarred me.
JOHNNY MOVES IN
Chelsea is one of the most impatient people I know, but when it comes to playing pranks, she has nothing but time. She’ll let things fester forever. A lot of times she starts a lie and then actually forgets about it, leading someone to believe a falsehood for months or even years. Even if she doesn’t forget it, she rarely, if ever, has an expiration date or an end to a prank. She’ll just let it linger…
If you watch Chelsea Lately regularly or follow Chelsea on Twitter, you are very well aware of Johnny “Kansas” Milord, aka The Bird. Chelsea dubbed him The Bird because of his frail frame and the way he eats: he kind of just pecks at his food. In truth, I’ve never even seen him finish a meal. He looks like a little girl.
Johnny is a lovable little guy, and Chelsea has always had a soft spot for him. Personally, I think they are in love, but Chelsea thinks I’m retarded. She actually thinks I’m retarded for a lot of reasons, not just because I’m convinced she wants to make babies with Johnny.
Johnny eating his lunch at the office. I mean, really.
Regardless, Johnny can be a mess. He always drinks too much and is a nervous wreck, but unlike me, who externalizes all of my thoughts and concerns, Johnny internalizes and frets over everything. That’s why he’s twenty-nine and has already had an ulcer. He can’t make a decision to save his life.
So, a month into the start of Chelsea Lately, after Chelsea told me that Johnny’s apartment had flooded and he was temporarily moving in with her and her boyfriend, Ted—the CEO of our network, E!—I didn’t think twice. Of course Johnny’s apartment had flooded; he lived in some shitbox on the east side of Los Angeles. After the flood, he had no game plan as to where to move to or what to do. He had to let Chelsea dictate all of that for him.
Even though Johnny’s submissive, I was still surprised that he accepted Chelsea’s offer to move in with her and, in effect, his big boss, Ted. It’s a bit odd, but knowing Chelsea, I’m sure she insisted that he stay with them. She always has people staying with her. She’ll have the most random people crash with her, most of the time even in her own bed. She’s basically become the Michael Jackson of comedy.
A couple of nights into Johnny’s stay and all seemed fine. I was really curious about the specific living arrangements and how everything in the house was playing out. After all, this wasn’t a little weekend getaway for Johnny; he was full-on living with his bosses. That meant sleeping, meals, laundry, etc.
From the outset, I was so uncomfortable with this setup that I needed to know every detail. For example, what did Johnny sleep in? I, for one, sleep in boxers and nothing else (that’s right, ladies, start visualizing). But I’m not sure I could wear just boxers while residing in someone else’s home. What if there were a midnight