Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

This weeks' Saturday side eye goes to the old me, who would have filled this post with dick jokes and tranny references, but it's Lent (To who?  And for how long?  Ha ha!) and I'm struggling trying to be nice, so here's transgender activist and star of Orange is the New Black Laverne Cox at The Blonds' show during NY Fashion Week.  Longest forty days of my motherfucking life!

Now You See Me, Now You Don't - Double Chin Edition

A few years ago, I got an invaluable piece of life advice from America's sassiest Grandma, Joan Rivers, who told me "Always lengthen your neck in photos.  It tightens your face and hides your double chin when you smile."  If anyone knows about double chins and face tightening, it's Joan Rivers, so I'm glad I remembered her advice when I met her outside Rockefeller Center today.

If only I'd thought about it a few minutes earlier, when Tyne Daly came out.

Damn you double chin!!

What In House of Dereon Hell?

It's the end of March in New York, so naturally I'm wearing everything I own because it's still fucking cold outside, and it seems that Kelly Rowland is too.  How else to explain this Navajo blanket inspired mess she had on today at Rockefeller Center?  Navajo?  More like Nava-No!  Kelly's beautiful, and really sweet in person, so I'm gonna let it slide this time, but girlfriend needs to disconnect the phone whenever Tina Knowles calls or she will always be Gretchen Weiners to Beyonce's Regina George.  

From the Frontlines - Russell Crowe

You know that scene in every Nat Geo Wild show you've ever seen where the guy throws meat into the river and a swarm of piranha attack and the whole river turns bloody red?  Well, that scene played out at Good Morning America this morning when the aggressive autograph hounds crowded against the barricades, crushing the fans in the front so they could get Russell Crowe's autograph on pictures that are already on e-bay.  Add in the paparazzi, who will swarm and knock each other out of the way like a zombie apocalypse to get a good shot, and it's a miracle I could even get this photo from the street.  It's a war out there kids!

Celebrity (?) Apprentice

The cast of Dude, Where's My Career? (official name: Celebrity Apprentice) hasn't been announced yet, but Donald Trump's gang of misfits have already started filming, and today I had to sign an image release when I bought my lunch because I'm that guy who has to look at the accident I'm driving past and I had to see this mess for myself.  Now I'm not proud to say I watch the show, or that I paid $20 for a shitty chicken pot pie 'for charity' (and I'm still hungry!  Fuckers!), but I did manage to snap Johnny Damon (Some baseball player.  I don't know either.) serving hot chocolate,

Gilbert Gottfried warming up the crowd,

Ian Ziering winning the Oscar for Sharknado serving customers

and my teenage masturbatory fantasy Lorenzo Lamas hitting the wall.  HARD.  (No!  Not Lance Cumson!)

No sign of that hot slut Amanda the Receptionist, but this mess will splatter across TV screens sometime this summer.

G-L-A-M-O-R-OUS

The last time I checked (this morning in the shower), I was still gay, and there aren't too many women in the world that could change that, but one woman I'm endlessly fascinated by is burlesque icon Dita Von Teese.  As famous for her porcelain skin, red lipstick, raven black hair and love of vintage clothes as she is for her erotic striptease shows, Dita is a woman meant for another era.  The world is her red carpet, and I love her commitment to always looking flawless, even if it's just a trip to pilates or the 7-11 for a pint of Ben & Jerry's.  Oh who am I kidding?  Dita doesn't eat, she survives on flavored air. 

Happy Birthday Vanessa!

Vanessa Williams, star of Ugly Betty and Desperate Housewives and singer of that one song in the early '90s, turns 51 today.  As a kid, I was so excited when she won the Miss America pageant, representing my home state of New York as if that had anything to do with me other than a shared governor and affinity for sequins and tiaras.  I remember flipping through the Penthouse my friend Sandy and I found in her parents' drawer and being confused by the badly lit, hairy vagina lesbian photos that got her dethroned, and more interested in the Playgirl magazine we also found (with centerfold Max Werner.  How's THAT for a good memory?)

Well, Vanessa's done alright for herself, and was at the Today Show recently to promote The Trip to Bountiful with costar Blair Underwood.  Happy Birthday lovely lady, and here's to many more!

Glee Selfies

On Friday it was Law and Order SVU, and my boyfriend was texting me pictures of Ice-T all afternoon while I was stuck at work, and today it's Glee filming outside my apartment.  I fucking love NY!  There's a ton of fans waiting across the street from Serendipity right now, but I managed to see Darren Criss from my bedroom window (no lie, and feel free to insert your own joke here) and jump out the window race down the stairs in time for this shot, which he selfied with my camera.  Even cuter in person, and very nice!  If only I still watched the show.

Classic Drama

If you're a regular reader, you know I've spent  most of my life watching television, and while I love a good sitcom, there's nothing I like better than a good old fashioned soap opera.  From the tender age of eight I began watching some of the greatest shows of my generation - Dynasty, Knots Landing and the one-two punch of Dallas and Falcon Crest, which my mother and I bonded over every Friday night, watching to see who shot J.R. (her) or whether Lorenzo Lamas would take his shirt off (me).  While the rest of the kids were climbing trees and trading baseball cards, I was learning how to navigate hostile company takeovers or drown a bitch in a lily pond cat fight, skills that have proven very useful dodging paparazzi and rabid autographers to get celebrity photos, like this one with Patrick Duffy at Rockefeller Center.

As I got older (and more twisted) and my tastes started to shift, one of my all time favorite shows was Twin Peaks, the quirky, disturbing cult classic about the investigation into the murder of the homecoming queen in a town full of oddities and lunatics.  Seriously, if I have a spirit animal, it's the dream sequence of a dwarf speaking backwards in the third episode (which is also how my brain felt when I took too much Special K at the Factory that one time).  I can still remember sitting on the couch in my apartment my senior year of college, the room lit only by the Christmas tree lights and a light snow falling outside, finding out who killed Laura Palmer while I waited for the dancer that picked me up at the strip club above Burrito Brothers in Dupont Circle to come over with dinner.  (Misty water colored memories....of the way we were....)  Here's Kyle McLachlan, star of Twin Peaks, (and Sex and the City, Desperate Housewives and the best sex scene in the history of cinema in Showgirls) leaving NBC studios.  I wonder if he fucked Linda Evangelista like that?

I've Fallen (Off the Wagon) and I Can't Get Up!

So my New Year's resolution, expressed in this blog, was to stop photographing every has been and D-lister that shows up in town peddling shit I don't care about and focus my energy on people I'm really interested in seeing.  Like supermodels and Real Housewives.  But then Super Bowl weekend came, and celebrities were popping up everywhere, and I was reaching for my camera like a quick fix even while I asked myself 'why?'  That's right....I fell off the wagon.

How else to explain this photo of Meat Loaf, whose music takes me back to the sticky floors of the Sigma Chi house my freshman year at George Washington University, drinking warm beer from a plastic cup at a fraternity party before I knew better?

Or this photo of Patti LaBelle, who I haven't cared about since my 'dating black boys and listening to the Tom Joyner morning show' phase of 1993?

And why did I take these pictures of Full House stars Bob Saget and Dave Couliet, when the real star of that show was always Kimmy Gibler?

So as we enter Lent, with ashes on my forehead (after meeting Naomi Campbell, of course), I am recommitting myself to only photographing celebrities I care about.  It will save a ton of time and energy, make it easier to write these blog entries faster (whose bright idea was this anyway?) and I won't have to struggle to make Christian Slater seem interesting.

Because let's face it, in 2014 there's really no reason for this shot of Jordin Sparks.

Three Dates With Naomi Campbell and I'm Still Standing!

Naomi Campbell and I have been casually seeing each other for about a year now, and by that I mean twice before today.  It's mostly a long distance relationship due to her hectic schedule walking the runways of Paris and Milan, vacationing in Ibiza, partying with rock stars and royalty and filming her reality show The Face (Wednesdays at 10 on Oxygen), but I get to see other celebrities on the side so it works.

I've always wanted Naomi to sign her Playboy cover for me, but with a temper that goes from zero to 'watch this fuckers' I've been afraid to ask.  Until today.  And much to my surprise, she not only signed it but mentioned that she didn't even have a copy of her own (although why she didn't go on ebay and pick one up for 99¢ like I did I'll never know).  

That's right bitches....I had a conversation with Naomi Campbell!  She must have stopped by the church for an exorcism on her way to NASDAQ, because she even posed for photos with the street performers in Times Square after ringing the closing bell.  So here's the first of what I hope will be many photos of Naomi Campbell and I.  No phones were thrown, no charges were pressed and no police were called.

A Return to Old Hollywood Glamor

Having sat through all 127 hours of Sunday's Oscar telecast, I can honestly say I'm glad this award season is over.  And while I won't miss Giuliana and Joan dishing over who Lupita is wearing or whether Jared should wear his hair up or down, I will say that this new breed of basic bitches better pay close attention to the legends who showed them how to bring it this year.

Never in a million years did I think I'd be writing about Liza Minnelli's tits, but there she was on the red carpet giving me blue streaked melting Kris Jenner glamor, sans bra!  I KNOW!!  I've seen Liza in person a few times, and am usually too distracted by the bobbing head, undertaker makeup job or the sheer willpower it takes for her to stand upright to even notice that she HAD tits, but there they were around her elbows last night!  And that's before the show even started!  Jennifer Lawrence falling?  Amateur!

And how about Kim Novak?  Sure she was dazed and confused, sounded like a drunk Herman Munster and looked slightly embalmed, but Kim Novak is Hollywood royalty and demands respect!  She's 81 years old, bipolar, fell out of a bell tower twice in Vertigo, suffered nerve damage in a horseback riding accident and survived breast cancer, and she STILL did a better job presenting than that closet case Xenu freak with dyslexia and a dollar store weave.  Plus, Kim was on Falcon Crest with Lorenzo Lamas, and that alone gets her a free pass in my heart! 

And who can forget Jacqueline Bisset at the Golden Globes this year, giving rambling, incoherent acceptance speeches a new benchmark after trekking to the stage from her seat in the parking lot of the Coffee Bean two blocks away?  ("I just flew in from NY.  Boy are my arms tired!")

So girls, fire your stylists because SHIT IS REAL and there's a price to pay for being a beauty vanguard!  Some are born with it and some don't give a fuck, but if I have to put this much work into posting a picture of Jacqueline Bisset then you damn sure better bring out a better A-game, because I expect more Angelyne and less Angelina next year!