November 20, 2003
Connie Black's Book Signing

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ME: [from the audience at Indigo book-signing] Hey big spender! Big-spender! What's the matter big-spender?! Need some aspirin? You look like shit!

CB: Fuck you you obstreperous little picayune!

ME: Eeeeewww, big words for an old man-- how's about I shove 'em where the sun don't shine?

CB: You mean inside that precious little cunt of yours?

ME: Excuse me?

CB: Oh, I'm sorry young man, I'm unaccustomed to conferring with garden variety half-wits who can't match my palaver.

ME: Ow, Conrad - You're hurting me!

CB: And you're in my way.

ME: Hey-- Ow!!!-- my knee!

CB: Take him out back and show the little snot what U.C.C. stands for.

ME: Wait a second here - Let go--!

CB: I'll be there momentarily.

VINNY: Sure thing boss.

CB: My bullwhip's in the limo.

ME: [barely audible yelping] No! Oh God no!@

CB: Next!

Fan: That kid had some nerve!

CB: You needn't fret, he's in good hands. Now, back to business - how shall I make out your inscription, kind sir?

FAN: Could you make it out to my friend Dickie Burnbaum, please? He's a huge fan of Roosevelt's, and an even bigger fan of yours!

CB: Well, that's nice to hear.

Posted by at November 20, 2003 02:05 PM
Comments

This isn't especially interesting but it involves books and Conrad Black and his handlers.
I work in an antiquarian bookstore that occasionally sells a book for a sum that could cover my rent and living expenses for a few months. Funnily enough the job rarely pays enough to cover my rent and living expenses for a single month. Lady Black's ex-husband George Jonas (who used to look like the creepy dandy out of Beyond the Valley of the Dolls) shops there a lot. I guess he told Barbara about the store and she must have told Conrad about it and he came in one day a while back. I wan't there but the next day this guy who looked like a secret service agent or a limo driver came in and announced himself as one of "Lord Black's attendants". I swear. Anyway, so Connie had seen a book (about Churchill!) that he liked and he wanted it and I knew where the book was but the guy didn't believe me so he insisted on calling his boss and having him tell him where the book was. He called him "Lord Black" at least twelve times in five minutes. Then there were some other books that he had put aside so he charged them up or whatever and then insisted I help him carry them out to the car. The car was a really shitty old minivan. Like all muddy and the carpets inside were curling at the edges and it smelled.
I dunno, I thought that was weird. The shitty minivan belonging in some capacity to Conrad Black.

Posted by: TheDiscourse on November 20, 2003 06:51 PM .

My story about Connie dates back to the age of eleven or so, and is also not especially interesting but here goes: At my summer camp, Conrad's son was a famous bad-ass. A few days before camp started, he took his dad's golf cart out on the 401. Black was out of town when the police brought him home, and he waited two weeks, until visiting-day, July 16th, to administer the scolding. During this time, there was a great deal of speculation about what might happen. On the day, a helicopter landed in the middle of our camp and off they went. I didn't know who Conrad Black was then, and I didn't know his kid either. But I saw the chopper leaving and it was pretty cool.

Posted by: on December 1, 2003 04:05 PM .

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Posted by: mp3 on November 6, 2004 03:03 AM .
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