Fox and Friends needs better Friends

Every Friday, the nazis at Fox and Friends try to compete with Good Morning America and Today by putting on their own summer concert series, which is usually some county fair circuit country singer, past American Idol runner up trying to generate some heat, or well faded nostalgia act touring their greatest hits because they haven't had any recent ones.  Sometimes, when the crowd is too big at the real morning shows or there's nobody I'm interested in seeing I'll head to Fox for the free BBQ, because who doesn't like to start their Friday with some ribs and chicken? 

On July 12th, Blues Traveler was at Fox.  John Popper used to be really fat, but now he's just big boned.  And sloppy looking.  With bad tattoos and oily skin and zero personality between songs, like he just started doing live shows and is socially awkward in front of a crowd rather than a performer with years of experience.  I stayed long enough to snap a pic, but when he pulled the harmonica out it was time to go.  I hate harmonicas.

The following week it was Cody Simpson, who is somebody in Australia but nobody in America.  Cute kid, and the songs were alright, but I was only there because I didn't feel like braving the crowd for Fall Out Boy at Today and they don't have free BBQ.  This picture is insurance in case he ever makes it in America.  I wish I'd done that at White Party Palm Springs in 2008 when Lady Gaga was performing five feet from me at the pool party looking like a tragic, melted drag queen with two sad backup dancers on the tiniest platform barely a foot off the ground and all I cared about was "getting another drink."

Last Friday, Fox had Bret Michaels, which, alright, is somewhat relevant if you disregard two appearances on Celebrity Apprentice and the embarrassing Rock of Love career misstep.  He looked and sounded great, posing for photos and signing autographs in between songs, although the groupie standing next to me with her husband/boyfriend was upset that he didn't remember her, which really made my Friday in an Almost Famous kinda way.  Honey, you were a fuck.  Nothing more.

Note to self: don't stand in front of the speaker when you're taking video.

High Fiber Friday

Ok kids, the Metamucil is kicking in, so let's knock out a few more celebrities, shall we?

6/27/13 - Toni Collette was at Good Morning America to promote her latest film The Way, Way Back.  There were a ton of screaming tweens at the studio to see Demi Lovato (and there is NOTHING worse than shrieking teenage girls.  NOTHING.) so I didn't realize the interview was actually outside in Times Square, which is why this photo looks like it's through the studio window, which it is.  From the looks of this picture, Little Miss Sunshine is NOT a morning person.  Or maybe she's annoyed by the screaming tweens too.

7/1/13 - Speaking of annoying tweens, Miranda Cosgrove was at the Today Show to promote Despicable Me 2 (starring Steve Carell, who is also in The Way, Way Back and was all split personality promoting both movies at the same time).  I have no idea who Miranda is or was before this movie, but Joe and one of the paparazzi nearly got in a fist fight over this girl, who signed autographs and posed for pictures, oblivious to the drama she was causing.  I snapped a picture because she was there and maybe one day she'll be more famous than she is now, but I was really there to see Cher, who pretaped the interview with Savannah Guthrie in leopard print pajamas from the comfort of her hotel room because THAT'S HOW A REAL DIVA DOES IT and I didn't really need to get up early and head to Rockefeller Center after all.

7/15/13 - Every one of us at the barricades has that one celebrity we're obsessed over.  The one person we're dying to see in person, get a photo with, or an autograph from.  I have a list (hanging on my desk at work), and it's long, including Gina Gershon, Tina Turner, Dave Grohl and nearly every supermodel that's ever been on or in Vogue, Sports Illustrated or Victoria's Secret.  For Pavan (previously known as the Indian kid until we started chatting in the morning and sharing information about who is where and when) that person is Alyssa Milano, so he was excited for her in store appearance at Modell's on 42nd street.  I couldn't have cared less because it was a million degrees outside that day and I didn't feel like breaking a sweat on my lunch hour, but when he texted me that the line was super short I decided to walk over, but only on the shady side of the street.  It was worth it, since Alyssa was very friendly to everyone who came out to see her.  All thirty of them.  I didn't get an autograph, but I did get a salad and the beginning stages of a midlife crisis on my way back to work.

That's not funny!

6/26/13 - Jamie Foxx at Good Morning America to promote White House Down, the flop he costarred in with Channing Tatum.  I remember Jamie on the set of Miami Vice (where I was an extra in a scene that got cut from the film), juggling, telling jokes and entertaining the crew between takes - a far cry from the smooth, couldn't be bothered Jamie that showed up at GMA and wouldn't sign autographs or look at the fans before the outdoor interview started.  What a dick.  And by that I mean, what a huge dick.  Seriously, I've seen the leaked pictures.  He's hung.  But his bathroom was a mess.

6/26/13 - The notoriously difficult Jerry Seinfeld hanging out in the lobby of Sirius studios after his appearance on the Howard Stern show, getting comfortable leaning against a column talking to a couple in the lobby for half an hour, and giving the waiting graphers and paparazzi serious side eye every so often wishing we'd all just go away.  I shouldn't be surprised since he stretched a show about nothing out over nine years.  But just like in 'The Contest' Jerry eventually caved and came out to sign autographs, and I became the master of my domain for waiting him out.

7/10/13 - The cast of Grown Ups 2 did the ho stroll over at Good Morning America to promote another contribution to the dumbing down of America. More like grown OUT if you ask me.  Adam Sandler has packed on a few pounds and looked more Happy Meal than Happy Madison, while Kevin James, who couldn't be bothered to acknowledge anyone on the way in or out of the studio looked more Burger King than King of Queens.

The only svelte one was David Spade, who couldn't leave the studio fast enough, making a b-line to his car so he could get on with his day of fucking Playmates and straddling the line between seriously cool and seriously irritating.

Gay-O

Harry Belafonte is the last person that comes to mind when I think of gay activism, so he seemed like an odd choice to be the grand marshall of this year's NYC gay pride parade, but on June 30th there he was on the back of an open convertible following a rainbow flag made of balloons down Fifth avenue.  When I was a kid my mom used to love him, so I figured I'd head to the parade staging area and try to snap a shot or two and send them to her for kicks.

Bad idea. 

I don't know if Mario Andretti was driving that convertible or what, but the minute the parade started this motherfucker started driving down Fifth avenue like it was any regular Wednesday and he just happened to be following a half block long balloon rainbow flag through midtown traffic.  I must have taken 40 shots trying to capture Harry, who was either whizzing past me, turning to the other side of the street or being blocked by flags, signs or queens waving like lunatics to get his attention.  The crowd was so thick I had to run down Madison avenue to get ahead of the car and keep trying, which is really pathetic when I think about it.  Fourteen blocks later I got my shot.  And then I passed out from heatstroke and had to be ambulanced to Lenox Hill hospital for an IV.  Just kidding. 

Broadway Barks 2013

Saturday July 14th marked the 15th annual Broadway Barks!, a star-studded pet adoption event benefiting NYC animal shelters and adoption agencies.  Hosted by Bernadette Peters and Harvey Fierstein and produced by Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS, the event spilled out of Schubert Alley onto 45th street, drawing the likes of Sigourney Weaver, Jane Lynch, David Hyde Pierce and other stars from this season's hottest Broadway shows along with theater geeks and animal lovers hoping to catch a glimpse of them.  Starting ninety minutes late, my camera battery and my patience were both running out by the end of the event thanks to a lady next to me who kept going on and on about every Broadway, regional, high school or America's Got Talent version of any show she'd ever seen in her entire life to this poor wide-eyed kid, fresh from the farm, who kept looking at me with pleading eyes because he didn't know how to tell her to shut the fuck up!

Southern Fried Monday

Oh my God how are you?  Long time no see!  How is everything? 

Yeah kids, I know, it's been awhile.  I've been busy and you've been waiting patiently, so let's give this blog a colonic and let the pictures start coming fast and furious!

First up, that delicate southern belle Mama June stampeding into Times Square this morning like Godzilla in the Japanese harbor to promote some Honey Boo Boo coloring book or shit on Good Morning America, because this country isn't fucked up enough right now.  And on the same day as Hostess Twinkies are back in stores!  Coincidence?  I think not! 

Miley Cyrus was there too, looking like a day shift train track hooker in a striped, perforated crop top and matching skirt that would have been perfect for a shift at the Bada-Bing but was all kinds of uncomfortable to look at in the middle of Times Square at 8AM on a wholesome morning show.  Hard to believe this girl is only 20 when she dresses like such an accomplished tramp.  Kids, they grow up so fast these days!

Also on the ho stroll this morning was Earring Magic Ken...urr...Keith Urban.  He and Nicole must sleep in separate beds because his is clearly a tanning bed and if I was a betting man I'd say hers is a hyperbaric chamber. 

Props to all three for signing autographs and posing with fans.

Supermodel. WERQ!

Linda.  Christy.  Naomi.  Cindy.  The one named glamazons who ruled the runways of the early 90's, dated rock stars and royalty, introduced the word 'supermodel' into pop culture and wouldn't get out of bed for less than $10,000 a day.  Billboards, music videos, ad campaigns, these women were everywhere until Anna Wintour pushed them off the cover of American Vogue in favor of actresses, forcing them to scramble for ways to extend their brand and stay in the public eye.  Acting, singing, realty TV, these women tried it all, with varying degrees of success. 

And then there's Carla Bruni, the indisputable queen of the second act.  At the height of her career, the Italian beauty was linked to Eric Clapton, Mick Jagger and Donald Trump before quitting the industry to devote herself to music, marry Nicolas Sarkozy, and become the first lady of France.  I know, right?  From the Champs-Élysées to the Élysée Palace in one expertly pedicured, Manolo Blahnik clad leap.  Carla was in town last week to promote her new CD Little French Songs on the Today Show, so of course I had to see her for myself.  Originally scheduled a month ago, the interview was rescheduled due to security concerns surrounding the Boston Marathon bombings, I figured there would be a ton of security and she may even use the garage entrance.  Not so.  When I got to Rockefeller Plaza during the Kathie Lee/Hoda hour, one of the regular guys said she arrived at 7:15, through the 48th street entrance but wouldn't pose because she wasn't wearing any makeup.  Typical model!  There were A TON of screaming teenage girls waiting at the entrance because Channing Tatum was also on the show, but a quick 'he garaged it, you're not going to see him' and they were gone.  Clearly I've been doing this too long. 

After about half an hour, what looked like a tall, thin woman with long hair came around the corner and down to the corridor to the glass doors, escorted by a couple of NBC security people.  The glare made it hard to tell who it was until the doors opened, and there before me stood Carla Bruni.  Still breathtaking, she posed for photos and signed autographs, including the CD I bought at the used CD store on 45th street for $4.00 because I was uncomfortable asking the former first lady of France to sign a nude of her in a body painted trompe-l'oeil dress by my friend Joanne Gair which would look STUNNING framed and signed above my desk.

In hindsight, she probably would have signed it.