Cooper Brown: He's Out There

There's DC boasting on Parkinson that he gave Kate Moss his phone number (and how pissed was sexy Sam? Apparently the Leader of the Opposition had to spend the night on an uncomfortable futon for his boasting); well, don't talk about it, do it – that's the Coop motto. So guess who spent a crazy evening at the house in St John's Wood where the Cockney supermodel is currently living it big-stylee?

You guessed it, the Cooperman himself. It all started when Ben introduced me to a guy called Neil who is some sort of producer on a soap opera called Hollyoaks. I've never seen this show but apparently it's jam-packed with hot chicks and one of them owns the house in St John's Wood where Moss currently crashes. So we're at the Electric and Pablo pays us a visit and we're having a great evening and he gets off his tits and invites us to this "exclusive" party. I'm on board before he can change his mind and we hop into his Vogue and weave our dazed way the short distance north. I know it's going to be good when we arrive as there are paparazzi outside the house. Sadly they don't snap the Coops as, just as we walk up the street, the singer from Oasis comes swaggering up the other way and they go mental. We all go in the house together and I'm loving the whole thing already. I try to introduce myself to the Oasis guy, Liam, but he's not the sharpest card in the pack and kind of grunts. I tell him I know Hugh Grant and he grunts again so I leave it. I'm not a big fan of their stuff anyway – give me Kiss any day.

Inside the house it's actually remarkably unexciting party-wise, in that it's just a bunch of people sitting around on huge couches drinking champagne. It's who they are that makes it hip. I spotted three rock stars, loads of TV faces and, of course, the Moss chick herself, surrounded by a coterie of sycophants. I go straight up to her and introduce myself. She's pretty cool, actually, and says, "Hi, I'm Kate," which was kind of nice as everyone knows who she is. I tell her that I spent a couple of weird evenings and a four-day trip to Morocco with her ex Pete Doherty. She looks a bit pissed off and I realise from the frowns of the sycophants that this particular subject is off-limits. I quickly move on by telling her that I thought he was an asshole anyway but she still looks pissed so I drop the whole thing.

There's a bit of a silence so I try to tell a joke that Hugh Grant told me about Lindsay Lohan and a flute, but they're trying to be all cool and starting to freeze me out. I back off like I've got better shit to do and start talking to the guy who is supposed to be banging Sienna Miller – he's called Rees Evans. He's from Wales and English is not his strong point but we manage to communicate well enough and he knows Hugh as they were both in the movie Notting Hill so he's pretty cool with me. I tell him about The Amy Winehouse Story – the movie I'm doing right now. I tell him that he'd be perfect to play the awful junkie husband who's in jail right now.

There is nothing that pleases an actor more than when you tell them that you could have a role for them in your movie. He takes me under his wing and I hang with him for an hour or so and meet pretty much everyone, who all relax a lot because I'm with Rees. I talk to the Oasis guy again and he's a bit more chatty. I tell him that I love Whitesnake and we end up talking about how cool Van Halen were. Then I get talking to a totally hot blonde who turns out to be the actual chick whose house this is. She is a TOTAL babe and I'm in love within a minute. We chat away and we're getting on good when there's a commotion at the door. She gets really stressed – apparently all her neighbours are getting really annoyed with the lifestyle that having Kate Moss live with you entails. I decide to play the hero and tell her not to worry, that I'll sort this shit out. I've got previous experience with my neighbours so I'm pretty good at this kind of thing – you've got to show them who's boss otherwise they'll close you down.

Despite the hot chick sort of trying to stop me, I get to the front door, where there's this nanny trying to talk to a very angry, shouting Sloane woman who doesn't look too dissimilar to Mrs Himmler. I push the nanny out of the way and give this bitch both barrels. I tell her to fuck right off and stop taking out the fact that she hasn't got laid for 30 years on a bunch of people daring to actually enjoy themselves.

I slam the door and turn round to see Rees Evans trying not to laugh but the hot chick is furious. I disappear into the kitchen to try and find some more champagne but, a couple of minutes later, Neil comes in and tells me that I have to leave... now. I'm pretty pissed at this but there's not much I can do so I slip out, head held high, and head for Soho. I ring DC the next day to tell him my story, but he won't take my call. Who cares? You won't find me on the futon... Cooper Out.

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