71 posts categorized "AUTOGRAPHS"
Wicked Gay Blog hits the nail on the head: Bros before (drunken groups of) hos!
Johnny Weir & hubby get violent. Again.
Cristiano Ronaldo gets naked for Vogue.
Don't sleep with the sultan.
Robyn and techno duo Röyksopp debut “Sayit” video.
Composer drinks in final Bridge of Madison County show.
Gay men baffle him.
Macklemore denies his costume was anti-Semitic.
Deryck Whibley nearly died, looks so sickly!
Tens of Tea Partiers descend on DC.
They made Rob Kardashian's hologram too fat.
GAY LOVE: He chose his gay friend over tennis.
Fans paying $400 for the VIP meet-and-greet with Avril Lavigne were told to stay an arm's length away from her. Can you imagine? What a bitch she is. I would ask for my money back. Or I would send my photos to Gawker to embarrass the shit out of this untalented, ungrateful...oh, she's wearing a Madonna shirt, never mind, she cool, she cool.
Having just survived the most recent Hollywood Show not long ago, I couldn't justify attending this weekend's Chiller Theatre horrorfest at the Parsippany Sheraton in New Jersey. That is, until I found out two of my all-time favorite hunks—Andrew Stevens and John Wesley Shipp—were going to be there.
The decision was made.
My "then and now" gallery is above...
I wasn't going to attend the latest Hollywood Show in L.A. at the Westin LAX this past Saturday. I'd made up my mind that while dropping in would make all the sense in the world if I were an Angeleno, dropping in from across the frickin' country made about as much sense as the fact that Joan Collins does these things out of an actual need for cash. (See my other trips to autograph shows at #5 on this list.)
“Even my worst orgasm was right on the money.”—Woody Allen
But then I figured out a bunch of other stuff to do in L.A. and splurged, booking Monday and arriving with some goodies for a variety of the over 100 (!) scheduled stars to sign. Unfortunately, it was one of my least exciting shows, but I was still reminded of that Woody Allen quote. You know the one.
The show was meh because, for one thing, quite a few stars canceled, including some whose advertised presence had helped me decide to go in the first place. For example, I'd spent part of one day sourcing a fabulous Rene Auberjonois portrait from The Eyes of Laura Mars on eBay, then tracking it down in person here in NYC, only to discover that he'd canceled the night before. Apparently, Rene told a fellow celebrity guest, “I don't have any pictures to bring so I'm not going.”
I also missed seeing Dale Bozzio, the original Lady Gaga, whose lead vocals on the Missing Persons record Spring Session M are the perfect combo of pleasing and unnerving. No matter that she's since become a crazy cat lady—I love huh!
But it's a thin line between love and hate when it comes to fandom. I overheard one attendee fuming that the gossip columnist Rona Barrett had canceled (another one I'd been so curious to meet), saying, “She canceled? What a fucking bitch! I'm dying to meet her!”
Not having as many stars to “get” made for a leisurely show. Unfortunately, it did not make for one of my favorite shows; kudos to the organizers for rounding up so many diverse celebs, but it just so happened that the ones I was most excited to meet didn't wow me. I had precious few fun encounters...well, if we're talking about the ones with celebrities.
Here they are. I calls 'em likes I sees 'em...
Teresa Giudice is gonna go to the big house for a long spell, so forgive her if she wants you to pay her in cash only and real quick for her autograph and a pic-with. Forgive her, but what about the morons paying her? She's a crook—she doesn't merely play one on TV.
I stumbled across the blog of this guy who has been starfucking for over 30 years while Googling around for Della Lind info. Lind, aka Grete Natzler (1906—1999), was a leading lady in the Laurel & Hardy films, and was referenced in a massive post I'm about to drop on all you Golden Age of Hollywood freaks. Reading about this guy's exploits as a kid at an autograph show 34 years ago called Hollywood '80 really blew my mind and sucked up a lot of my time today—in a good way.