Grosse Pointe
Secrets And Lies

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Shalom means never having to say "I love you"

Outside her trailer, Dave runs into Kev. "It's over," says Dave happily. "What happened?" asks Kev. "I just told her all the stuff a regular girl would love to hear, and she dumped me!" Dave says. "So," says Kev, "did you at least get some break-up GRANOLA?" "Dude," says Dave, "I don't want to talk in code anymore." "Uh, okay," says Kev, changing tack. "So, did you at least get to nail her one last time?" Join me in my new mantra, people: More Kev! More Kev! More Kev! Wheeee.

Later that night, Schmarce and Eli are hanging out in Eli's car, going on about how comfortable they are with each other and how they love each other's Judaism and blather blather blather -- let's just get to the sex we know is coming, shall we? Cut to the interior of Schmarce's house as Eli and Schmarce are gettin' it on. They're ripping each other's clothes off and stumbling toward the bed. Schmarce kills the lights, and we hear the sound of a zipper being pulled. Fast worker, that Schmarcy. She's groaning, and we assume she's "laying hands" on Eli's "lobster of luv."

Suddenly, Schmarce shrieks, "My God! You're not Jewish!" She throws on the lights as Eli jumps out of bed, pulling up his pants. He sputters that he wasn't born Jewish, but that he's planning to convert and the truth is, he's just one snip away. Ew. Marcy wants to know why someone would lie about something like that. Eli claims that you get much further in this business if your name is "Eli Goldberg" than if it's "Mario Garbini." Really? Does anyone else in Hollywood know this? Isn't that kind of narrow-minded? Oh, and, I dunno, RACIST? Right, like the Jews run Hollywood and the banks. Right. That is so, um, 1940s! Where'd this guy grow up, in a bomb shelter? Marcy tells him to leave, because, "Eli or Mario or whatever your name is, honesty is a lot more important to me than religion. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go wash my hands." And burn your sheets and underwear while you're at it, girlfriend. That's what I'd do if I had a lying, ignorant dickwad in my bed.

That same night, Brainless enters Quentin's non-thirtieth birthday party. Hairless grabs him in a bear hug and asks him to make a birthday toast. Johnny doesn't know what he'd say. "Something sweet," says Hairless. "Dude," says Brainless, "you're making me uncomfortable." Heh. Brainless approaches the bar and runs into Coco and her Chardonnay. "Hey!" she shouts. "Did you hear from Ishmael?" Johnny's had enough. "You gotta stop teasing me like that!" he demands. "Just because I never went to college, doesn't mean I'm stupid." College has nothing to do with it, Brainless. "You're right," says Coco. "Lemme 'recess' my opinion." God, who knew she could be such a viper? "Why're you being so rude to me?" asks Brainless. "I have feelings too, ya know." Coco relents. "Tell you what," she says. "I'll stop treating you like you're stupid, if you stop treating me like a sex object." They agree. Coco walks off with her wine as Brainless proves he's about as deep as a teacup by watching her ass as it wiggles away.

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Grosse Pointe

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