Tonight is a new episode of "Just Desserts," and Gail and Johnny will be in the TalkBubble live during the show. So that's funzy in your onezie. I got a lot of tweets last night about Kathy Griffin's hilarious routine mocking my wonked out eyes. I thought it was hysterical and was honored to be in Kathy's act. I've made it.
Yesterday was my annual election day lunch at the Palm with CBS News star Harry Smith, Jonathan Alter from Newsweek, and Emily Lazar who produces "The Colbert Report." It was a very breezy, newsy, and literary time spent chatting over steaks. The place was packed with pundits and political media stars like Chuck Todd, Jeff Greenfield, and on and on Joe Klein ... Safe to say we had a minion. (Anybody get that?)
I am in the cab to work right now. Late. I don't know why I even bother with 8th Avenue in the morning anymore. It's like groundhog day every morning, and I just forget. Yesterday we cut over to 6th really low, like 16th Street, and it took about 11 minutes door to door. Now I'm sitting here looking at Penn Station like a sucker.
My cab driver Halloween night was "celebrating" his first night on duty. It wasn't much of a celebration given that the handsome Algerian's former profession was a SURGEON. Can you imagine? His driving was quite deliberate and skilled, and he replaced a valve in my heart somewhere around St. Marks Place -- but this ain't his calling. He had a whole long sob story about the whole chain of events led him behind the wheel, and I felt bad. And then I gave him a big tip. And then I got out of the car and became cynical and wondered if it was all a lie. And then the next morning when we woke up, I turned to him and asked him POINT BLANK: "Was it a lie, Manoosh? WAS IT?"
And I didn't get an answer because the last part of that story was a lie. It was just getting good, too. Okay now I am at 42nd Street under the Cher billboard, which means I am almost there. I am superpsyched, like every gay man, to see "Burlesque," but it looks a lil Showgirls-esque if you get my drift. I'm still psyched though.
Okay now we are stuck on 50th Street under the sequin diet Snapple sign. I think Duane Reade is taking over NYC by the way. And that TD Bank. A really nice apartment building opened across the street from my pad downtown and a TD Bank moved in the lobby. Way to JUNK UP a perfectly nice building. I guess they couldn't get any other renters. Oy. The state of today -- Algerian surgeons driving cabs and TD Banks spreading like herpes.
Ok I am at 30 Rock. Today is going to be a s---storm so I have to hustle. In the meantime, NBC posted the SNL sketch from Monday night, and here it is in its entirety ...