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Toy Story
Drinks, dates and stock options for our Dotcom dynamo
By Dotcom Diva
From Ttixtogo's lavish unveiling of its new name (Acteva) in an unlikely circus of glam rock, trapeze artists, an obstacle course, and swine races to the Myplay.com foray at Slim's, I've seen all there is to see in the world of dotcom parties--the fascinating, the shocking and the dreadful. That's right, I've witnessed the burgeoning of the bay, the tanking of the techies, and the contorting face of the city as it has transformed from grungy, artistic hub to a web society of immigrants from Boise who look like they've stepped out of a milk commercial.
Dotcom Diva is not unnaturally obsessed with the wild, wicked world of the web, darlings--don't get me wrong. It's just that one has to take advantage these days. The journalist's pittance is not a perky one, so folks must make do with free-flowing Ketel One and gourmet hors d'oeuvres when given the chance. Not to mention other materialistic delights, like silky-blue nail polish (Epitonic.com), a highly functional duo of shot glasses (Hotshot.com), or a posh bottle of Veuve Clicquot champagne (Respond.com).
Ooh la la, the Diva doesn't pop the cork off one of these babies very often.
Next party stop--isn't South of Market just the business these days?--was an event for Bitlocker (don't ask, I haven't a clue either) held at the trendy Limn Gallery. Cosmos seemed to be the delight of the young and attractive, so the Diva conceded. After a couple of these and a picking or two from the impressive array of finger desserts (lemon merengue thingies, and creme de somethings) I cleared my throat, failed to spark any notice, yawned, and made my way to the free parting gift. A business-card holder. Hmm, what novices. I quickly bid my adieus.
Yes, darlings, I admit it. I do eat, drink, slurp, consume, wear, talk, belch and occasionally even puke dotcom, yet I haven't actually become dotcom, because, well, they would never have me. When all is said and done, I'm only in this for myself .
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