USA! USA! USA!

Danell Leyva is that hot Cuban-American gymnast that made b-holes quiver with his parallel bar striptease at the Rio Olympics last week.  He's a two time silver medalist and an LGBTQ supporter, and if those dick pics floating around the internet are real he could pommel my horse any day.

Gold Fingered

Elvis fucked her, Caitlyn Jenner fucked her back when she was Bruce, and she was Mrs. David Foster before Yolanda and her lemons and lyme disease invaded Malibu.  A regular on Hee Haw and a Grammy/Oscar nominee for composing "I Have Nothing" off The Bodyguard soundtrack, she's Linda Thompson, and her magical pussy has had more celebrity peen than a Corey Haim/Corey Feldman slumber party at Neverland.  Notice her lovely smile trying to spread its way across her botoxed face.  That's the smile of a bitch whose seen and done them all.

My Brush (off) With Fame

You guys must think that getting photos with celebrities is easy; that I'm always in the right place at the right time and am so lucky to get all these famous people to stop for a photo or an autograph. 


Wrong.


This was supposed to be a post about Fat Joe, a rapper whose song Lean Back was played to death by Miami radio to the point that it became a running joke between my friend Ashleigh and I.  I would have gone on about how Joe's niggas don't dance, they just pull up their pants and do the rockaway, whatever that is.  But it's not, because although I waited an hour at Good Day New York yesterday and ended up being late for work, Fat Joe showed up after I left.


This could have been a post about Linda Thompson, Elvis Presley's last girlfriend and the ex wife of Bruce Jenner and David Foster, who is peddling her new memoir around NYC.  I could have gone on about how a fading starlet with a magical pussy and a tentative grasp on fame tries to stay relevant past a certain age, or maybe talked about how she's had so much botox her face is slipping off her head.  But I was either given bad information or she's a blabbermouth who can't shut up because I never saw her leave Sirius yesterday at the time she was supposed to.


And this post could have been about Michael Feinstein, the Great American Songbook archivist whose version of My Favorite Year has held a special place in my heart since I first heard him serenade C.C. and Sophia Capwell at a New Years Eve party in the mid '80s on Santa Barbara.  But I took my vitamins this morning before I left the gym, making me just late enough to see Michael walking down the hallway into Good Day New York as I arrived.


And if you think it can't get any worse, where's your imagination?  I left Good Day New York, only to find out that Linda Thompson was added as a last minute guest, and had I waited I could have caught her arriving.


So here's a picture of Josh Bowman from Revenge that I've been holding onto since May because I couldn't find anything interesting about him to write about and still can't.

One Hit, Plenty of Attitude

Paraphrasing Forest Gump's mother, meeting celebrities is like a box of chocolates.  You never know what you're gonna get.  Sometimes they're extra gracious, going out of their way to pose and sign for anyone and everyone that asks, sometimes they begrudgingly do it because their publicist told them to, and sometimes they're downright rude.  Such was the case with Lisa Loeb, who read us to filth yesterday for asking for a photo.  "How did you guys know I was gonna be here?  Do you just hang around all day waiting for people to show up?" which, though not entirely inaccurate, was a little cunty for someone whose one hit (about a guy who left her, ironically) was twenty two years ago and who looks a little Lara Flynn Boyle in the face these days, when what she really meant to say was "Thank you for paying attention to me in 2016 when I haven't been relevant since 1994."

Gonna Make You Sweat!

You may not know her name or recognize her face, but you damn sure know her booming, powerhouse sound.  Martha Wash has been the Queen of Clubland since the late '70's, backing disco king Sylvester (I KNOW!) on the legendary (You Make Me Feel) Mighty Real and Dance (Disco Heat) and getting the queens dancing and going nuts as one half of The Weather Girls with camp classic It's Raining Men before becoming the voice (but not the face.....long story) of Black Box and C+C Music Factory in the early '90s.


A gay icon, Martha has been an outspoken advocate for the LGBT community for more than 30 years, and along with ecstasy and other recreationals, she's responsible for some of the greatest nights of my life, so DUH, of course I'd want to meet her.  But at 7 AM and unmade up she was not having it.  We talked (about baseball, of all things) for a few minutes and she was very gracious, but a photo wasn't an option.  And I understand that, which is why I went back after her segment, then waited another hour in 1000% humidity because of course she had to post tape a segment on the hottest fucking day of the year before leaving the studio.  She beamed when she saw me, came right over saying "You came back!  For that I'll take a few.  Yes I will!" and posed up a storm, and all I kept thinking as it trickled down my ass crack is 'just like the song, this bitch made me sweat.'