Vagabond ways.

John and I were at Roscoe's on Saturday night, drinking Miller Lites and trying to find someone to bum cigarettes from when this older gentleman in a black turtleneck and gray suit walked by. John turned to me and said, "Is that Udo Kier?!"

"YES!"

Now, I wasn't sure how I knew him or, uh, why he was there, but it was definitely Udo Kier, the German actor. Oh, and this is what he looks like for those of you who don't recognize the name:

Doesn't he look like he's about to eat someone? Yeah.

Anyway, I told John to say hi since he actually had seen (and owned!) two of his movies on DVD (Andy Warhol's Blood for Dracula and Flesh for Frankenstein). So John turned around and said, "Are you Udo?" He shook his hand and Udo replied, "Yes... do you have any cee-gaaar-ettes?" He was kind of drunk. We apologized and said no, and he kind of staggered away. And then we followed him because, duh, this is Chicago and you don't run into celebrities, must less INTERNATIONAL TREASURES.

After we saw him walk out and fall into a cab, I sent out a mass text message that said, "I just met Udo Kier. Look him up on IMDB."

And for the record, meeting Udo Kier in a bar means I am now two degrees from Lars Von Trier, Madonna, Keanu Reeves, River Phoenix, Bjork, Nicole Kidman, Chloe Sevigney, John Malkovich, and Marianne Faithfull.

Speaking of Marianne Faithfull, I finally got my shit together and saw a movie at the Chicago International Film Festival yesterday, called Irina Palm. Faithfull plays a middle-aged English woman who becomes a sex-worker in London to raise money for her grandson's cancer treatments. I went to see it just because I love Marianne Faithfull, but the movie was actually really good and, if it ever comes out, I recommend it. Here's the trailer:



I also met Dale from Top Chef on Saturday, but I wasn't as excited because I don't watch that show. Plus he has that dumb mohawk.