Hey gang,
Man, that was some fiery and explosive scene between Aristede and C. D. Tate yesterday.
I know that Charles demanded that he speak with the count to find out why he had been summoned to the tiny village of Collinsport, ME. However, I think that was just balderdash and poppycock on the part of the immensely talented and temperamental artist.
There can be only one reason why Charles sought to speak with the omniscient and King Solomon-like Petofi. Charles wanted the learned count to answer a question of earth-shattering importance. And, what was that question, you may ask? Just who has the groovier, more perfectly-coiffed head of hair, Charles Delaware Tate or Aristede?
Yes, Charles D. Tate, with that flowing mop of flaxen hair (a la Brad Pitt) or Aristede, with that shining mass of dark hair, combed down in an artfully-styled pompadour (very much like the pompadour the late, great George Harrison sported in "A Hard Day's Night).
I tell you, it would be a tough call even for the sagacious count to choose between those two Salon Selective dandies.
And, did you catch that large black hat with the wide brim and matching black cape on Charles? He looked like a taller, younger version of the late author, Truman Capote.
And, as for Aristede, in that snazzy suit with the colorful cravat, he looked like the 18th century's answer to P. Diddy Combs.
Wow, if bartender Bob Rooney wants to keep up with these two young Beau Brummels, old Bob will have to get some Donatella Versace designer flannel shirts to wear while tending bar at the Blue Whale!
Bob the Bartender, who will gladly wait on frigid 42nd Street, freezing off his "caboose," just to catch a fleeting glimpse of Donna Karan, entering those Bryant Park tents at the Fashion Week Show. Long live the Style Channel!!!
PS If today's knife fight with Quentin is any indication, as a so-called "tough guy," the spindly Aristede makes a great Casper Milquetoast!
