Tons of people in the damn studio again, and this time they were all giants. I mean literally the tallest group of people that have ever been in the studio. Even the paparazzi standing on their stepstools were having a hard time getting shots through the window, so this was gonna be a bitch. I thought about leaving for work, but my 'fuck this' moment was interrupted when someone (I think it was RJ, but it could have been Hollywood...they were both on stepstools) said 'there's Marie Osmond!'
Now, we all know that I love crazy people. The odder the better, that's what I always say. And Marie is batshit crazy in the best way. She loves wigs. She makes tranny dolls. And she sang the masterpiece Paper Roses. Remember her final Dancing with the Stars routine, when she and her partner dressed up like dolls and flopped around the dancefloor right into third place? Or when she fainted on live television? Of course you do! So there's a lot of reasons to love Marie Osmond, and all those reasons are what kept me at the GMA barricades this morning instead of picking up my whole wheat bagel, toasted, with salmon, cucumber, tomato and onion, and going into the office early.
I'm not sure why there were so many people there, but it seemed like a ton of loudmouth fans waiting with the photographers on the west side of the barriers. Women with loud, obnoxious, smoke filled voices cackling in that 'I've got something caught in my throat from the 6 billion cigarettes I've smoked in my life' way that's always so appealing right in your ear at 8AM. Dear God what I won't do for a picture!! The stage door opened, and a pretty, dirty blonde lady came out. The cacklers went wild, calling out Stana or Shana or something I couldn't quite catch. I don't know who she was so I didn't bother. Thankfully, that's who the ladies were waiting for, so when she left they did too.
Brad Paisley was doing a weather bit outside with Sam Champion, so I was able to snap a quick shot of him on the way back into the studio. This one's for you Jenny!
And then a magical thing happened, like some kind of leftover Easter miracle. (No, nobody came to the edge of the cave and saw that the boulder had been moved and the cave was empty. It wasn't THAT kind of miracle.) A discrete town car pulled up to the studio, and a woman stepped out from the passenger side while a man walked around from the rear drivers side. A gasp from the photographers as they realized who it was. Wait for it.....Robert Redford! Robert fucking Redford! In the flesh! Flashbulbs went off, the crowd went wild, or as wild as a crowd of stunned onlookers who weren't expecting a screen legend to magically appear before them unannounced could go. I snapped as fast as I could, and although he never stopped, I managed to get a decent shot. You be the judge.
Not long afterward, out came the gayest thing on the planet, Marie Osmond, pancaked to within an inch of her life! She was giving Mormon fierce, with a fitted jacket/blouse/fitted skirt ensemble reminiscent of Alexis Morell Carrington Colby Dexter Rowan back when Dynasty finally hit number one in the ratings and Aaron Spelling could go all out with the clothing allowance and shoes that would make Carrie Bradshaw proud. She posed, she preened, she signed, she lapped up the attention. She was unbelievably sweet, like a giant Easter peep come to life. (see how I did that?) And then she got into the SUV and went home to her dolls. You just know she tells them bedtime stories and tucks them in and shit.
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