Lies That Chelsea Handler Told Me - Chelsea's Family, Friends [51]
This is Geof Wills, who runs Chelsea’s stand-up tours. He’s the only person I know who’s more immature than Chelsea.
This is Geof minus the lotion and minus the shirt. Chelsea brings him on vacations all the time just so she can photograph him with his shirt off and yell, “Watch out, fish!” every time he enters the water.
And remember the 1986 Mets? Well, one day we were going along the coast in a fishing boat when she started to tell everyone that all of the houses on that stretch of the beach were bought by the members of the 1986 Mets. She pointed to the houses and said things like “That’s Darryl Strawberry’s house, that’s Doc Gooden’s…” And people were all into it. They asked questions: “Why did they buy all of these houses down here?” “Did they really make that much money?”
“Of course they did,” Chelsea said. “You don’t win a World Series like that and not get hooked up with major endorsement money. Mookie Wilson has the biggest one. A lot of people don’t know that he had the biggest contract.” Her own agent, who is a huge sports fan, was sitting there staring at all the houses on the shoreline she was pointing at with his mouth gaping open like a Special Olympics champion.
Again, no huge payoff but enough to feed the beast. She delivered each line of bullshit like she was reading it out of the 1986 New York Mets Book of Facts. She kept so many balls in the air that I couldn’t imagine how she remembered all of them. She’s very savant-like when she spews her nonsense. She rattles lies off so quickly and matter-of-factly that the people who have to gulp them up are usually so impressed by her knowledge they more often than not end up thanking her. That’s the biggest joke of all.
There happened to be a horse race coming up, the Preakness, that my wife really wanted to bet on. She’s from Louisiana and there was a Cajun jockey who would be racing. Between the nostalgic feelings she had about her home state and Chelsea’s “incredible” sports knowledge, Beth figured it was a sure thing. The entire weekend on the boat she and Chelsea talked about it and decided that when we got to New York they would place the bet.
Chelsea kissing my wife in the Bahamas. I am in the background laughing at her baseball stats. You can see the evil look in Chelsea’s eyes.
I had to figure out a way not to lose this money. The two of them combined knew as much about horse racing as I do about tile flooring. (I’m a Jew.) As the horse race got closer, I did get a little lucky.
We were in New York for my performance at Radio City Music Hall. I think Chelsea performed that night, too, but I’m not 100 percent sure on that. The race was happening during the time we were all getting ready for the show and Chelsea was not (thank the Lord) answering her phone. Beth said she was going to place her bet anyway.
“Are you sure you wanna do that without talking to Chelsea?” I asked.
“Yup,” she said. “I know how I want to bet and I’m just going to set up an online account.”
“Huh?”
“I’ve been reading about it and there are lots of places I can just lay my bet online.”
I was fucked. As I mentioned, my wife is a director, which means she researches shit. When she’s into something, she wants to know everything there is to know on that subject. And her current subject was, unfortunately, betting. We had a bigger problem than I thought.
I had to figure a way out of this. Wait, I know, I thought. How about I do something stupid like tell another lie? Retard.
“Honey, why don’t you go take a shower so you aren’t rushed to get ready and I’ll set up your account and place the bet.”
“Uh… are you sure?”
She was nervous for two reasons. One, I am a technological idiot. Don’t know how to do anything with computers at all. Besides porn and ESPN.com, the Interweb is like a foreign language to me. The second reason she was nervous was that I always break electronics.