Its Her Birthday so Dont Mention... Cocaine! Sadly Some Guests Are Just Plain... Bitchy! Even Dad Admits She Makes Him... Wince! ... The Inside Story of Katys Big Party! - ; but Wheres the Beef, Brendan?

Summary

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YOURE THE first to arrive, the doorman at Krystle nightclub grins, when I show up unfashionably on time to Katy Frenchs much- hyped 24th birthday party on Thursday night.

For the first hour, the only people there are a handful of journalists and Michael Healy-Rae who, despite the cap, was so cold in the empty VIP suite he nipped out and fetched his coat from the car. Earlier in the week, Katy had hoped there wouldnt be more than 400 guests. She bragged that Snow Patrol and the Stereo-phonics would come along and added, hilariously, that she had invited Bono.

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Its Her Birthday so Dont Mention... Cocaine! Sadly Some Guests Are Just Plain... Bitchy! Even Dad Admits She Makes Him... Wince! ... The Inside Story of Katys Big Party! - ; but Wheres the Beef, Brendan?

If he was bemused to receive the pink card in the purple envelope, he certainly wasnt alone.

But Ive never even met the woman! gaped a colleague of mine, when she got hers.

Inside were some pictures of Katy as a little girl dressed in a clown suit, holding a funny hat above her head or posing hand on hip, with her chin raised precociously.

They explained rather a lot.

The usual suspects on the predicable Dublin party scene begin to arrive in dribs and drabs to the in club on Harcourt Street.

Chick lit author Marisa Mackle? Check.

I...

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