Lost in LA

So, yesterday Joan and Melissa accomplished quite a bit... (some of which will remain a mystery until we're able to compile an adequate post... but I'll tease you just a bit: it has to do with a cultish organization. nuff said.)

Our day began at the taping of the Megan Mullally Show (the producers and staff of which really need to get their shit together... 3 hrs for a 45 minute show. Really people, you're not inventing the wheel... there are other talk shows -- take notes, regroup and get over yourselves. Melissa and I coulda had that shit wrapped up in an hour -- tops. But I digress.

Much to our chagrin... the primary guest of the show was Mr. Barry Manilow. To add insult to injury, a huge conglomerate of his *gulp* "FANILOWS" were in attendance. BTW: Melissa wants to know if anyone's in the market for a Barry CD/DVD combination... it's now wasting space in her collection and she'd like to be relived of its ownership.

Fresh off his hip replacement surgery, the crooner managed to swivel his hips a tad too much for our taste...although I will admit to a strange attraction to the song "I Write the Songs". Sue me. Anyway, we were glad when it all came to an end.

I will say: Megan is the cutest little thing on the planet. Tune in to the Megan show (check your local listings) to delight in her charm. Our episode airs on Monday morning so DVR or TIVO that shit.

After the taping, we headed to the Ivy to see who was out and about... :( No one. It was unusually chilly yesterday -- and although the outdoor tables were filled at one point -- everyone was "unrecognizable". There were, alas, no sightings.

We spent the rest of the day tooling around Hollywood and Beverly Hills... (That's the sign there, behind all the gaseous smog... I promise you, it is indeed there.)

Tune in later to J&M for an expose that will rock your world ;) --Joan.