Friday

Andy Cohen hits up book parties and Broadway.

First things first, I know that the videos I have posted in the last week have been bi-cocked. There is some issue regarding widgets and whozits and I don't know what. But I do know about it and thanks for the emails and I am irritated too. What can you do?

That being said, I hope you liked the A-List Awards and Kathy last night! After work, I hit a book party for Mary South's THE CURE FOR ANYTHING IS SALT WATER: HOW I THREW MY LIFE OVERBOARD AND FOUND HAPPINESS AT SEA. That lady did just that, leaving a high-powered job in publishing (she edited, among other things, the SOUTH BEACH DIET, remember that craze?) to hit the seas on a voyage from Florida to Maine with a one-man, two dog crew.

What is it about people leaving their high-powered jobs and writing books? It seems like yesterday that Bravo marketing exec Sherri Rifkin left us behind to "write a book". Usually when people say they are leaving to write a book they wind up on meth somewhere, or at a competing cable network. Or on meth at a competing cable network.

Not so with Sherri. She actually wrote and published one of this summer's hot reads (that's what PEOPLE says!) called LOVEHAMPTON. If you are ready for more "Sex and the City" - or you just want a frothy beach read, check out LOVEHAMPTON! (I will be reading my copy on vacay in a week.)

After the party, I went to "Young Frankenstein". I am very behind on my Broadway. Very VERY behind. Anyway, I went to see two ladies: Andrea Martin and Meghan Mullally. You better believe that those two superstars turned it out with a stagefull of fierce. I can't look at Andrea Martin without smiling, by the way. And man can Megan sing. (She's belting on the Tonys Sunday night if you care.)

Backstage was all broadway Magic because the cast had just toasted each other for the fact that - because of vacays and pilots and nonsense - it was the last time all the original principals would appear onstage together. Everybody was really emotional and feeling deep feelings. Martin told me about an SCTV benefit reunion that happened recently in Toronto with the entire original cast (minus John Candy). How did I miss it? Ugh. Upsetting.


We went to Joe Allen for dinner after, which was pretty old school considering the reign of Angus and Bar Centrale as post-millennial post-theater whozitspots. Well it turns out that Joe's is back and better than ever. It was all booze and laughs and Tuc Watkins, Brian Kerwin, the amazing lady from "August Osage County", and Mary McCormack.

Later we went for nightcaps at Bar Centrale and it was a ton more Broadway and movie star drunkards but it would be very zzzzzz of me to say who was plastered to the floor. I love the deep booths of Bar Centrale even though you have to climb a flight of stairs to get there.

Last night everyone was bitching about the NEW YORK TIMES and the Tonys. People are mad at the reviews and mad at the nominations. So I wonder how many years THAT conversation has been going on on 46th Street?

Speaking of NYT Reviews, I thought the review of "Sex and the City" read more like a militant attack on happiness than a movie review, but that's old news and just me and the flick has made 200 mill so who cares anyway.

I live in a state of eternally blissful cross-eyed-dom, but I am happy that everyone else last night was particularly cross-eyed about our President saying that maybe he should not have been such a unilateral asshole towards the rest of the world in his blind determination to nuke Iraq. Oh REALLY? Ya think? What about his asshole henchman's book telling everyone how he and the administration were lying the whole time? It is too late now, people. Just go away you horrible people.

CAB REPORT: I am still sick to my stomach from 4J64. What started as a joyride with loud music and a driver who was clearly feeling 90's hits turned into a careening, leadfooted, thrillridey nightmare. 8th Avenue has never been so terrifying. I am alive, but RUN from 4J64 - it's not worth it.

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