Prince Bandar Changes His Rich and Fickle Mind

As of the end of November, there is one less $100,000,000+ trophy property on the market looking for a homeless billionaire.

According to a recent post on The Real Estate Bloggers, Royal Prince Bandar of Saudi Arabia has decided not to sell Hala Ranch, his 90+ acre Aspen hideaway that has long been for sale with a face smacking $135,000,000 asking price.

Although Mister Bandar has more money than the damn Pope, it costs a lot of oil money to maintain and staff a 56,000 square foot house with 15 bedrooms, 16 bathrooms, a hotel lobby sized living room, a beauty parlor and a barbershop, water treatment plant, car wash, mechanical shop, indoor and outdoor swimming pools, tennis court, racquetball court, heated horse barn and a huge pond stocked with fish. Dayum.

The ranch was initially put on the market because the Prince rarely visited the estate. Now that no one else wants it, maybe he'll jump on his private plane and visit a bit more often to help justify the outrageous expense of owning a place like this. Your Mama doubts it though.

According to Joshua Saslove, THE mega broker of high end properties in the Aspen area, there was "enormous interest" in the property that looks more like a corporate retreat than a private home, but "none of the interested parties wrote a contract that was acceptable to the seller."

Bummer.

Now puppies, just how many times have we told you that rich people can be enormously capricious and one can never predict what choices that breed of fat cat will make on a moments notice when it comes to buying and selling the real estate? A thousand times if we've told you once.

Here's a not very educated or informed by anyone in the know prediction kids: Hala Ranch will remain quietly on the market and come back on the open market several months into next year at a substantially reduced asking price.

Britney's Former NYC Pad Is Flipping Out

SELLERS: Jessica Klein and Isaac Levenbrown
LOCATION: East Fourth Street, New York City, NY
PRICE: $6,995,000
SIZE: 4,400 square feet (approx.), 3 bedrooms, 4.5 bathrooms
DESCRIPTION: SPECTACULAR CELEBRITY PENTHOUSE. Entertain in style in the dramatic, newly renovated 4-level luxury townhouse in the sky. Chef's kitchen with SubZero and Viking appliances, hand-rubbed cherry cabinets and granite countertops. Full-floor living/dining room with wood burning fireplace, soaring ceilings, oversized windows and Empire State views. Super-private master bedroom suite features enormous custom-built closets, wood-burning fireplace, and two full baths with slat counter and European fixtures.

YOUR MAMAS NOTES: Little Miss I Lost Custody of My Children Because I Like To Party Too Much Britney Spears may be all broken down with bad skin running around with a tawdry cadre of beady eyed cohorts, but thanks to a lovely missive from a gentleman we call The Rolling Stone, Your Mama has learned that her old New York City crash pad in the Silk Building on the corner of East Fourth Street and Broadway is fixed up, spit shined, looking fresh and back on the market for a whopping $6,995,000.

The four floor, three bedroom and 4.5 bathroom townhouse style penthouse languished on the market for more than two years before Beverly Hills 90210 producer and writer Jessica Klein and her huzband Isaac Levenbrown, who designs and installs multimedia systems, swooped in and paid the dee-vorcée pop star exactly $4,000,000 for the 4,400 square foot condominium in August of 2006.

Little Miss Bad Weave Britney was hardly the only celebrity to occupy this condo, and arguably she's not even the most famous behatcha to shack up in these digs above the once legendary and now defunct Tower Records on lower Broadway. Once upon a time, hip hop honcho Russell Simmons owned the place, as did dried apple faced Rolling Stones guitarist Keith Richards, and–drum roll please–according to the sassy and always accurate folks at Curbed, pop music diva Cher also called the penthouse home too.

Interestingly, this is not the only celebrity crib that Miz Klein and Mister Levenbrown have purchased. Oh no. Property records show that back in 2000, the newly married couple paid $1,150,000 to purchase a 5,367 square foot house in the Los Feliz section of Los Angeles from follically challenged actor and serial house hopper Nic Cage. According to reports at the time, the 4 bedroom and 4.5 bathroom medieval style and castle-like residence came complete with scads of gargoyles, a mural in the dining room depicting scenes from ancient Egypt, and a cast iron snake for a stair master. Property records show the couple still own this house.

It appears to Your Mama that the Los Angeles based couple decided not to be bi-coastal after all or perhaps they never intended to occupy Britney's former den of iniquity. After purchasing the unit, they embarked on a renovation that Your Mama can only hope included a full scale fumigation not to mention a thorough scraping of all the cigarette smoke sodden paint.

Listing information states the newly renovated condo includes a chef's kitchen, a full floor living and dining room space with a wood burring fireplace, a super-private master bedroom suite with custom built in closets and a wood burning fireplace. Additional features include a Crestron lighting system, central air conditioning, washer and dryer, custom chandeliers, plus a private planted terrace.

However, as nice as that terrace surely is, this place has entirely too many damn stairs not to have a private elevator. Jeezis Mary and Joseph, just thinking about the extreme effort it would take to climb from the 10th floor to the 13th floor so that our long bodied bitches could bask in the lower Manhattan sunshine has Your Mama wheezing and clutching at our heart. Dear gawd, it's just insane to think that anyone besides some kind of exercise nut can climb all those stairs day in and day out without stroking out or popping a damn vessel in their brain. Honestly!

Before we sign off to cozy up with our big bottle of Bombay, let's discuss the dramatic price increase since the Klein/Levenbrowns bought the place just over a year ago. We get it, you renovated the place, and the Manhattan market is still frenzied despite an lackluster economy and a well publicized mortgage melt down. But who among savvy buyers in Manhattan really think that a little bit of paint, a few yards of granite and some floor stain justifies a 75% price increase? Sorry babies, but not Your Mama, not in our humble and meaningless opinion.

Anyhoo, perhaps if Little Miss I Just Bought $200,000 Worth of Brand New Mercedes Benz's hadn't sold this place, she could have easily fled her sad and difficult life in Los Angeles for a new start in New York City where Your Mama is certain that the Dr. Cooter would be more than happy to smack her back into having a functioning bone of sense in her body.

Now listen up. Don't any of you rabid Britney Spears supporters get on the damn subway and head downtown, because Little Miss I Might Be (Or Might Not Be) Pregnant does not live here anymore. For the ignorami among us, Your Mama repeats, she does not live here anymore. So just stay in your dark little apartments dressed in your Catholic schoolgirl uniforms and lip synching the words to Hit Me Baby One More Time.

P.S. Little Miss I Prefer a Hotel Even Though I Have Two Houses appears to have taken her Beverly Hills house off the market. Again. (Follow the links for photos puppies.) Our sources tell us that she lives primarily in the Malee-boo house she leased at a rumored rate of $35,000 per month, but according to someone who has been in the house in the guard gated Summit community, the place is a pig sty and it looks like she uses it as a crash pad and dressing room with clothes strewn all over the place.

Several reports have been coming out about how she has a double locked room up in her Bev Hills crib with a mirrored ceiling, a rack full of costumes for sex play and dozens of, uhm, items used for sexual pleasure. But so far Your Mama can't confirm whether this is true or if this is just people wanting to sell glossy gossip magazines. Honestly, if you ask Your Mama, and of course no one did, we think there's a 50/50 chance of it being true. Little Miss No Underpants is widely considered a bit of sex maniac. So who knows. And really, kids, would that be so bad really? So what if she liked the sex a lot? There are far worse things she could (and reportedly does) put in her body than a dildo. Oh dear, did we say that?

At Home With Leonard Pincus

It seems that just about every wickedly wealthy financier and stinking rich socialite wants to get in on the publicity circus that follows buying, selling, or simply listing a private residence at an unfathomably high price.

We've got Donald Trump and his freaky follicles down in Palm Beach hoping to get $125,000,000 for his flip property that looks like drug lords hideout Your Mama. There's mega rich dee-vorcee Suzanne Saperstein in Los Angeles trying to dump her palatial pile of faux Versailles for $125,000,000 and her 123-acre Simi Valley horse farm for $75,000,000. And let's not forget Leonard Blavatnik, a Russian born magnate of a man who makes spectacular sport of buying high priced digs all over the world including coughing up a rumored (and denied) $150,000,000 for 30,000 square feet of penthouse opulence atop the soon to be refurbished The Mark on the Upper East Side.

And last week, the usually quite discreet white haired financier Lionel Pincus, who ferries Princess Firyal of Jordan around to all the best dinner parties and charity functions of the bejeweled and big bank account set, has tossed his hoity toity hat into the ring by dumping his sprawling duplex at the posh Pierre on the market with a blistering $50,000,000 price tag.

Which is a billionaire's bargain when you consider that filthy rich financier Martin Zweig has spent more than three years trying to unload his tremendous triplex penthouse co-op at The Pierre for an unfathomable $70,000,000.

The Corcoran listing agent for Mister Pincus' duplex has yet to release interior photos, but if the floor plan is any indication of the extreme and obscene lavishness of the interior appointments, Your Mama would bet our left arm they will cause half of the Upper East Side to gasp collectively thereby sucking most of the oxygen out of the air all up and down Fifth Avenue.

Let's have a look-see at what $50,000,000 buys someone with enough liquid assets to feed, clothe, and educate half of Africa. Get ready kids, because the numbers are staggering.

The recently renovated co-op occupies the entire 30th floor, half the 31st floor and measures 6,678 square feet which calculates to a jaw dropping $7,498 per square foot. The listing for the property indicates 14 rooms, the masterful Max Abelson at the New York Observer reports there are twelve rooms, and Your Mama counts fifteen. There are 10 foot ceilings, more than 80 feet of park frontage by our calculations, 4-6 bedrooms depending on how you count or who you talk to, 5 full and three half bathrooms, 39 windows, 31 closets plus 4 walk in closets, 2 wood paneled dressing rooms, two kitchens (and one large pantry), two laundry areas, two paneled libraries, 2 sitting rooms, one exercise room, 1 staff office (natch), 5 star hotel amenities, $27,443 per month in maintenance fees, and according to the listing, the notoriously demanding board at The Pierre requires a minimum of 46% as a down payment...that's $23,000,000 for the math impaired.

Maybe Lakshmi Mittal, a steel tycoon for whom fifty million clams is pocket change, needs a little New York City pied a terre?

Livin' Large in Encino With Eddie Cibrian

SELLER: Eddie Cibrian
BUYER: Carlos Mencia
LOCATION: White Oak Avenue, Encino, CA
PRICE: $4,395,000 (list); $4,300,000 (sale)
SIZE: 6 bedrooms, 8 bathrooms
DESCRIPTION: Newly renovated walled & gated celebrity owned Ranch Estate. Grand 2 story entry w/ wrought iron staircase. Ideal for entertaining, rooms are grand scale & open to spectacular luch tropical grounds w/ pool & spa. 2 master suites, FR / coffred ceilings, library, + home theater. Banquet sized FD & kitch w/ center isle, granite, Viking & SubZero SS appl. Spacious master w/ frplc, & ba with 2 walk-in closets, 2 showers (1 steam), spa tub. Travertine & hardwood floors + high ceilings. 6 car garage.

YOUR MAMAS NOTES: Oh dear. Somebody please get Your Mama a silver spike that we can drive through the heart of the decorating demon who is responsible for this Encino mess that luscious looking actor Eddie Cibrian and his model wifey Brandi (with an "i," of course) call home. Dear Jeezis in heaven, Your Mama just prefers not to know that there are people in the world who actually want to live in houses with porte-cocheres meant to make the house look elegant and grandiose but really just make it look like a damn Ramada Inn.

According to property records, Mister Cuban American sexiness purchased this enormous 8,560 square foot house of horrors in May of 2002 for $2,020,000. According to listing information, the rambling and recently renovated six bedroom house includes eight bathrooms, a home theater, library, family room, two master suites (1 up and 1 down), and a banquet sized dining room. The vast second floor master suite features two walk in closets, a fireplace, and for some asinine reason, two showers. Shoved in the corner of the second rate porn set worthy bedroom we see one of those exercise bike abominations. 8,560 square feet of faux elegance and the Cibrians shove that sweat maker into the bedroom? Oh, hunnies, no. Yer a good looking and hard bodied couple who need lots of exercise to look hawt, but surely there's a better location for that contraption.

Since we first located this property a week or so ago, the status of the listing has been changed to "Looking for a Backup" which would indicate that the bee stung lipped slab of beef and his sexy mommy wife have found a buyer for their hive inducing residence.

Holy moly children, we don't mean to be haters. Y'all know we like to say something nice about all the properties we discuss, but sometimes that is just not possible and Your Mama is just too shaken and upset to continue damaging our eyes looking at this house. Well, okay, the backyard lagoon style lap pool with the tropical landscaping is pretty, but that arching bridge is simply not safe for the handicapped or booze imbibers.

Anyhoo, before we cozy up to our big bottle of Bombay in an effort to calm our frazzled nerves, let Your Mama offer Mister and Missus Cibrian and all the children some sage yet simple decorating advice. It is never, ever a good idea to drive the Hummer or whatever other big ass SUV you have out to the local mall and march in to Pottery Barn and shout, "I'll take it all!" Because unfortunately it ends up looking like this. There's nothing overtly offensive here, but there's also nothing interesting or compelling about the interior spaces either, which quite frankly is a decorating crime of the highest magnitude.

Now puppies, we must leave you and ring Louella Hopper, our dear old friend who has recently and thankfully returned from self imposed exile and who always provides Your Mama with moral support, guidance and the most sa-lay-shush and dee-praved gossip about the doings in the Platinum Triangle.

UPDATE: This property was purchased in late 2007 by comedian Carlos Mencia.

UPDATE: 50 Cent

Surely by now all the children know that 50 Cent, the smack talking rapper who was once shot full of holes and lived to tell about it, has been trying to sell his freakishly huge 50,000 square foot mega mansion in Connecticut that he bought from girly voiced boxer Mike Tyson's ex-wifey Monica for $4,100,000.

The super successful musician is asking a whopping $18,500,000 for his poorly decorated pile that features such amenities and a private disco, a movie thee-ay-ter, four kitchens, a racquetball court (which we can't imagine Mister 50 uses much), heli-pad, tennis courts, a private logoo with spitting fountains, an indoor shooting range, indoor and outdoor swimming pools, 19 bedrooms and nearly 40 damn terlits. Yes children nearly 40 terlits. If yer house needs this many terlits, there is entirely too much crapping going on by the guests who have come over to bbq and shoot pistols.

Just in case you can't stay up until 10:30 tonight when the show airs on MTV Cribs, and lahwd knows Your Mama cain't, here's a little teaser where the surprisingly soft spoken and subdued Mister Fifty shows us his tacky $80,000 dining room chandelier, his impressive hat and shoe closet which will make any shoe queen drool with envy, and his bumble bee yellow million dollar Ferrari. For a million bucks Your Mama would rather own a crazy ass Tara Donovan sculpture, but who are we to question the reasons some men need to own powerful and grotesquely expensive sports cars? Back off car enthusiasts, we know yer going to tell us a Ferrari is a work of art. Fine. You say toemaytoe, we say toemahtoe. We'd still rather have an undulating sculpture made of Styrofoam cups.

Now that I've shamelessly plugged MTV Cribs, Your Mama hopes they'll get smart and buy some damn advertising.

Jeff Lewis Strikes Again

SELLER: Jeff Lewis
LOCATION: N. Commonwealth Avenue, Los Angeles, CA
PRICE: $1,795,000
SIZE: 1,938 square feet, 3 bedrooms, 2.5 bathrooms
DESCRIPTION: Incredible design, perfectly private. Down a long private drive sits this stunning modern, recently renovated with a Palm Springs influence. Loft-life space with courtyard entry, high ceilings, exposed ducting, and gorgeous walnut flooring throughout. Streamlined high-end kitchen and baths, and new pool-spa. Three bedrooms, 2.5 baths, including master suite with outdoor access. Outdoor space includes a large deck, patios, and two flat yard areas.

YOUR MAMAS NOTES: Put down your doobies and put on your thinking caps children because Your Mama wants you to remember all the way back to late July and early August when every real estate freako and house loving homosexual was glued to boob tube while we peered into the wacky world of quirky and balloon lipped house flipper Jeff Lewis and his coterie of actor assistants, pet psychics, the gay daddy ex-boyfriend and a sassy and lovable Nicaraguan housekeeper named Zoila.

Towards the end of the series that aired on The Bravo, Mister Lewis negotiated to purchase a ugly broken down mess of a property on N. Commonwealth Avenue in the Los Feliz area of Los Angeles. Property records reveal that the professional speculator paid just $800,000 for the 1,938 square foot pile of crap. Ever since, Your Mama has been on pins and needles waiting to see what sort of speculation magic the complicated perfectionist would work.

This time around, according to the listing, Mister Lewis chose a "Palm Springs influence." But children, Your Mama and the Dr. Cooter have spent many a wonderful weekend at The Parker Hotel in Palm Springs, and we don't see it. This place looks nothing like all the low slung Alexanders that litter the desert landscape out there or the fabulous Freys or the wonderful Wexlers, and this certainly has little if anything in connection with a Neutra.

Yes, it does have a courtyard (behind the garage) with a contempo stone fountain (not pictured), and there's a liberal use of frosted glass and lots of high ceilings, which is all vaguely Palm Springs (and Miami and the Hollywood Hills frankly), but Your Mama thinks Mister Lewis, all due respect, is pushing the laws interior decorating decency to throw a few pieces of reproduction mid-century modern staging furniture in a house, paint the exterior door frames a bright (and lovely) shade of orange and call it Palms Springs.

None the less and despite the faux "Palm Springs influence," over all Your Mama is impressed with what Mister Lewis, his big lips and his exceedingly well groomed ex-boyfriend/business partner Ryan have done with this former rat shack that includes 3 bedroom and 2.5 bathrooms. The potty mouthed children can say whatever mean and snarky things they want about Mister Lewis' off-kilter personality and constant state of financial freaking out, and we're certain you will. But be honest. The man flips properties better than 90% of the other professional flippers out there who max their credit cards out buying truckloads of appalling and cheaply made crap at The Home Despot.

The expensive walnut floors were an expected but still delicious choice and a welcomed veer from all that engineered wood crap most house flippers put down. Your Mama always welcomes a shiny suite of high priced kitchen appliances and we are particularly fond of the baby Viking and that gorgeous glass fronted SubZero has us quivering with delight. We know this kitchen isn't blazing any new trails of haute culinary design and it's not going to inspire anyone to be the next Top Chef, but it's a perfectly appropriate and functional kitchen that won't look out of date in six months or even six years. And in a flip property, like it or not kids, that's a prime objective.

They can not be seen in the photo above, but the vaulted ceiling living room has sizable sliders that open to both the entrance courtyard and the swimming pool deck at the side of the house. These sliders allow for turning the room into a big covered porch like area. Nice. However, the prison grey paint isn't working for us, and we're disappointed not to find a fireplace to anchor the room and give it a focus. Of course, seldom is it cool enough for Angelenos to actually need a fireplace to heat the tootsies, but for this price, Your Mama wants the option to dabble in that flaming luxury.

Upstairs we find the sleeping quarters and two of the bathrooms. We do so love a master bedroom that opens to the back yard the way this one does because it's perfect for letting our long bodied bitches Linda and Beverly out in the middle of the night when they're unable to hold their bowels. But Your Mama has some serious issues with the bathroom. We can get behind the essentially masculine taupe and blue color scheme, but we do not care for trough sinks, they look like urinals in sleazy gay bars to us. We know that rain style shower heads are all the rage in bathroom renovations, but have y'all ever used one? They're nice for just standing there letting the water fall on you, but try bathing under one of those nightmares. Your Mama and the Dr. Cooter installed one in our outdoor shower at our newly shingled and modest beach house, and don't you know we ripped that thing out before the summer was over. We can not tolerate those things unless they are paired with a more traditional wall mounted shower head. And lastly, we would have really liked to have seen a tiled bench in this big shower, because Your Mama often needs to sit down and catch our breath after a vigorous body scrubbing.

Mister Lewis and his team have managed to squeeze in an attractive and petite plunge pool and spa into the side yard, and they've terrace a good portion of the back yard creating a fair amount of usable space on the difficult hillside parcel. Yes children, it does all look magnificently manicured with the unnaturally green grass and the dark decking, but Your Mama is concerned that the landscaper will put his back out or suffer a hernia hauling the big Toro mower up and down the stairs to the sod covered terraces. And don't even get us started on the drama, hysterics and shirtless manpower required to mow up that steep hillside.

Although Your Mama would never buy this house–too many stairs in the back yard and we're convinced we'd take out the landscaping and scrape the sides of our big BMW trying to back down that narrow driveway–we sincerely hope that Mister Lewis and his carefully coiffed ex boyfriend/business partner Ryan have better luck unloading this property than they have with their flip on Ben Lomond Place. Poor dears have reduced the asking price of that house from $1,525,000 to $1,349,000 and still no one wants to buy it.

But before y'all weep yer crocodile tears for these pretty boys, lets keep in mind that according to property records the flipping duo recently sold the house on Nottingham Avenue (the big unfinished house on the program that Ryan moved in to) for a whopping $4,350,000. The Nottingham house was purchased in June 2006 for $2,260,000 and it appears they took another $1,050,000 in loans, which means by Your Mama's fuzzy math the sale of the property dumped about a million clams into their well pressed khakis. So it seems they can keep all their employees employed for at least a while longer.

Good News!

We've been settin' on a secret children, and before Your Mama explodes into a thousand candy filled pieces, we just have to fill y'all in.

Not too long ago Your Mama was approached by an accomplished and good looking producer who likes what we do here on our little blog. So, after much haggling and screaming Your Mama has thrown caution to the wind and we are now in development for a television show for the 2008 season.

A damn tee-vee show!

Since Your Mama loves all the children so much, even the bitchy potty mouthed ones, we'd love some feedback about what you enjoy about our little blog and what you might like to see translated on to the boob-toob. Also, if any of you clever beavers would like to suggest a title for the show, Your Mama will compile a list and post them for all the children to see who is the most brilliant of our beloved babies.

Email your thoughts, suggestions, ideas, hopes and dreams to TalkToYourMama@gmail.com

UPDATE: Olsen Twins

You Mama done got it wrong once again. It happens children.

This morning the always accurate Max Abelson, the handsome young man who writes the Manhattan Transfers column at the NY Observer, reports that the Morton Square penthouse that the rail thin Olsen twins bought back in December of 2004 in anticipation of attending New York University is indeed still owed by the mogulettes and has popped back up on the market with a spine tingling asking price of $11,995,000.

Not a bad return considering the twin tycoons paid $7,300,000 for the 5,725 square foot condo that features 12 rooms, 5 bedrooms (including a big bedroom suite with a walk in closest and dressing room for each of them), 4.5 bathrooms, 53 windows, a 53 foot long living and dining room space separated by a glass enclosed fireplace, and every celebrities dream, a service elevator to whisk occupants directly into the subterranean garage without having to cope with the paps camped out in front of the building.

UPDATE: Cher

Even the rich and famous sometimes suffer the fate of over reaching house flippers. Back in January, Your Mama discussed the Palm Springs residence that the seemingly ageless glamour icon Cher had on the market for $2,495,000.

Thanks to research by Belinda Beaverman, Your Mama has learned that the price has been substantially reduced to $1,999,000. Oh my.

Before we all start to feel sorry for Cher's spangled, beaded and bedazzled Bob Mackie pocketbook, let's recall that according to property records Miz Cher purchased the posh Las Palmas neighborhood property back in 2004 for just $650,000. Then she spent hundreds of thousands more renovating the place, but Your Mama imagines that's she'll still pocket several hundred thousand on her flip out even if she's forced to sell the 4,000 square foot beige behemoth for considerably less than it's current asking price...which it would appear she's going to have to do.

Cher, hunny, Your Mama loves you almost as much as we love Dolly Parton, but gurl, you gotta get a grip on your stagers because they've done messed up that place in Palm Springs with all that beige paint.

If the Dark Lady really wants to unload this place Your Mama recommends that she haul her nipped, tucked and taut booty out to Palm Springs and remove that damn pear painting in the dining room and those ridiculous photographs of her baby smooth face in the den. Lawhd hunnies, who can see past those hideous "decorations?" Clearly no one in the market for a well located $2,000,000 house in Palm Springs.

Your Mama Catches Up

Your Mama has had half a dozen friends and relatives visiting the past 10 days and we've moved en masse from one residence to the next like it ain't nothing to pack up six people, two long bodied bitches named Linda and Beverly, a mean ol' pussycat named Sugar and stuff them all into a couple of late model BMWs. So we are tired children. And we are in no mood to listen to the children whine and complain that we haven't been posting enough. Screw you little ingrates. It was a damn holiday and Your Mama is entitled to a day off every now and again whether any of you naughty little children think so or not.

Anyhoo, all the familial commotion has left Your Mama backed up, both gastro-intestinally and with our little blog. So in the interest of saving time and our last nerve, we're going to quickly discuss a few things before we begin our regular routine tomorrow. So sit back children, because this is going to be fast and furious.

1.
Like the rest of y'all, we have seen the stories and photos about high heel tottering tycoon Ashley Olsen buying a cluttered Spanish style house in Hancock Park. We'd love to be able to confirm or deny the veracity of those stories, but we can not. As of today, none of our many sources have been able to provide us with any information. The last we knew, the itty bitty Olsen twin was living in a rental property up in Nichols Canyon. Now puppies, we know she's done packed up her designer duds and high heels and decamped from that house, but we've not been able to locate her since. Sorry babies. Your Mama ain't no soothsayer or miracle worker when it comes to these things and despite appearances, we aren't always able to pull a celebrity rabbit out of a real estate hat. So then, if any of you with the inside scoop would like to fill in the gaps for Your Mama and all the hungry children, please don't hesitate to email with some juice.

What we do know, thanks to tipster Richie Rich, is that the massive penthouse condominium at Morton Square in the far West Village of Manhattan that the twins bought but never occupied during their short lived stint at getting educated at NYU is back on the market for $11,995,000. But there's really not much to see because the mogulettes never moved into the sprawling condo and leased it for a whopping $35,000 per month even before they decided the charade of going to college was just too much effort for a couple of young and filthy rich fashionistas with a very, very bizzy schedule of glammy parties to attend.

2.
Your Mama is a big fan of Mister Big Time's little game "Which Celebrity's House Is This," and naturally we're an even bigger fan when we can answer his call about what famous person has bought and/or sold the mystery property. And this week, Your Mama is on a roll. Although to be fair, we have actually managed to figure out the mystery buyers and sellers with the invaluable aid of the always funny and always informative Lucy Spillerguts.

The not very attractive house with jetliner views at 8918 Appian Way in the Hollywood Hills was sold by hot to trot Nine Inch Nails front man Trent Reznor, the super sexy rock star that makes our beloved Lucy pee her pants a little with glee and delight.

We also know who purchased the teeny tiny West Hollywood house on Harland Avenue, but we're awaiting contact from Lucy before we let that cat out of the bag. Suffice for now to say, it's a much bigger celebrity than any of the children would imagine. Much bigger.

3.
Regarding the legal smack down of celebrity real estate agents Joe Babajian and Kyle Grasso in the rarefied Platinum Triangle of Los Angeles, we have no news to report. After the 85 page indictment was handed down, Mister Babajian put his house on the market and we assume the gentlemen have hired top flight attorneys to represent them. We await a settlement or trial like everyone else. We make no predictions on how this will all come down, but Your Mama read every word of the indictment and to our untrained and unlawyer-like mind, it looks bad for these two and the various other folks named in the indictment.

4.
For weeks and weeks Your Mama has been getting email after email about the supposed house that glamazon Kimora Lee Simmons appeared to have purchased on her "reality" show Life in the Fast Lane. Some of the email has been quite friendly, but some of it has been rather hoss-tile too, yes it has. Some of these snot nosed children were snapping and sniping at Your Mama that Miz Simmons did not buy the house that we discussed on our little blog like they know what they are talking about because they saw it on a damn reality show on the tee-vee. Jeezis H. Christ. Some-bahdee bring Your Mama a nerve pill and a gin and tonic to wash it down. Rather than go into it here, Your Mama recommends that any of the interested children check out RADAR's brief exposé on the matter which should clear up what's real and what's not real with Miz Simmons' real estate.

5.
We would like to thank all the children for sending the many tips about celebrity houses being bought and sold over the last few weeks. We do our best to get you as many stories as we can, but Your Mama has only two hands and ten fingers to type with and wear down to nubbins, so please don't be insulted if we don't get to your lovely information in a timely manner.

6.
Enough with the anti-Semitic remarks. Seriously. We do not want to get involved with policing the damn comments section children, but do not think Your Mama won't whip out the wooden spoon and beat your ass until it's black, blue and bleeding before we delete your asinine and uneducated comments. We're certain there are many other blogs that would appreciate that particular brand of inflammatory commentary, but we here at the Real Estalker do not, thank you very much

On that note, get outta here and don't bother Your Mama while we wash our hair with beer and order in a nice big Indian dinner for the Dr. Cooter to say thanks for putting up with the crazy ways of Your Mama's family these past 10 days.

Bye now.

For The Love of Land

Bring on the Middle Eastern potentates, the Russian oligarchs and the American software billionaires because a couple of outrageously high priced Los Angeles land parcels have hit the market that only mega rich magnates or deep pocketed developers can afford.

The first property Your Mama would like to discuss is a collection of lots in swanky Old Bel Air that we have previously discussed when it was rumored that creepy Tom Crooz's peeple were sniffing around the property. Dubbed "The Park at Stone Canyon," the massive 10+ acre plot represents the significant and exceedingly expensive efforts of Elizabeth Hurley's multi-millionaire baby daddy Steve Bing. It took more than nine years for Mister Bing to buy up nine separate lots piece by piece and tear down eight of the old-school mansions, some of which has been previously owned by local luminaries like sexy 1950s siren Kim Novak and the crooner that looks like a lady, Barry Manilow.
Sometime in 2005, Mister Bing the Hollywood producer (Beowolf, The Polar Express), a lucky man who inherited a reported $400-600,000,000 from his grandfather, decided he didn't desire such a monstrous estate after all and sold the 12.4 acre parcel to a group of investors called ECP Acquisitions. Jeezis, Mary and Joseph, how many times has Your Mama told the children that rich people can be so fickle with the real estate? Nine years and umpteen millions only to decide, well, maybe not. We're breathless.

After purchasing the property for an amount money that Your Mama never been able to suss, figure or ferret out, these ECP Acquisitions people had elaborate plans drawn up for an opulent mega-estate that includes a mammoth main house, a separate office and gym, guest house, staff house, a greenhouse and a retreat house, whatever that is, a putting green, an orchard, waterfalls, ponds and a lagoon, not to mention the de riguer tennis court and infinity pool. They also drew up plans for splitting the property into six estates of roughly two acres each. Then they did what anyone with piles of cash to invest in real estate in Los Angeles was doing in 2005, they attempted to flip the property at an ear piercing price and profit. News reports declared that the landscaped and terraced parcel(s), which sit directly across from the hoity-toity Hotel Bel Air, could fetch an unnerving $75,000,000 or more.

But alas...No Texan oil tycoon, hedge fund honcho or Indian Industrialist was willing to cough up the copious cash required to acquire the property. The property disappeared off Your Mama's radar for some time and then poof, out of nowhere, it popped back up on the MLS with a reduced but still eye popping asking price of $59,950,000. Yes puppies, that's just for the bare land. The new owner will need considerable additional assets to design, build and pay for whatever ridiculously humongous residence(s) and accoutrement they would like to put on this piece of property.

Interestingly, the listing describes the property as 10.52 acres (originally the property was marketed with 12.4 acres) which would indicated that one of the ECG people is keeping one of the 2 acre-ish lots for his or herself. Hmm.

Now pour yerself a big stiff one kids, and someone please pass Your Mama the smelling salts because we are not done discussing platinum triangle land parcels with puke inducing price tags.

Not so long ago a property appeared on the MLS that intrigued Your Mama. Located high in the hills of the Beverly Hills Post Office, a 4 parcel estate site totalling nearly 6.25 acres with a Tower Lane address crashed down on the market with a stunning $39,500,000 price tag. Cough. Cough. For the bare land. Can you hear Your Mama's teeth chattering with shock and awe?
Even more intriguing and nerve rattling are the apparent plans the current owner had for the place: 50,000 square feet of Richard Landry designed interior space including a 30,000 square foot main house, a tennis house, gate house, spa house and a waterfall/guest house. All this lavishness was to be accessed by a 1,500 foot long private drive with garage parking for 25 cars, which pretty much makes the place a car dealership with resort amenities.

And who is the current owner you might be wanting to know? Well, after much digging, two of Your Mama's best sources have both independently fingered Jon Peters, the super rich super producer known for his lavish lifestyle, for getting his start in showbiz by dressing Barbra Streisand's hair, and for letting his ex-wife of two months, a ladee named Christine, live rent free in his big house in Bel Air for nearly 20 years, a situation that has resulted in a bitter battle.

According to property records, Mister Peters, who reportedly also owns a home in Bel Air, another in Malibu and an ocean front pile in Santa Barbara, purchased the lots way back in 1996 when there was an 8,000+ square foot house sitting on the property. The house has since been razed and according to listing information, years have been spent on the planning, engineering and design of the property. Ten years into the project and many millions of dollars later with not much to show besides a bunch of damn retaining walls and some drawings and plans, Mister Peters appears to have changed his mind like so many rich and famous do when it comes to ridiculous real estate ventures.

Only time will tell if there are buyers willing to plunk down such huge amounts of coin for vacant property. Lawhd children, imagine all the hungry mouths that could be fed and all the college educations for the poor and hard working that could be funded with this kind of money. It takes a lot to make Your Mama's head spin with visions of money being flushed down the terlit, and children, our head is twisting and spinning just as fast as it can go over these vacant plots of land with obscenely sky high prices.

If You Picket, It Won't Heal.

The Writer's Guild of America is on strike. I fully support them. After all, actors and directors all get laid, but who is dumb enough to have sex with a writer? So they ought to at least get more money. The producers's position is - what's the word again? Oh yes - a lie! Fairly paying the people who actually make the product they sell won't bankrupt show business; it will just mean that the studio heads cut will merely be obscene, and not wealth beyond the dreams of King Midas. They might have to make do with only three palaces, instead of seven.

I chose to stagger with the cast of LOST, because if the producers don't give in soon, half of season four will be --- LOST! If the producers don't cave soon, the smoke monster will be visiting studio execs. And I'm not just blowing smoke monsters. In fact, I'm more than willing to blow the whole cast if that's what it takes, or even if it isn't, except perhaps for Hurley. It's not that he's not attractive. What does that matter when you're too close to focus? Hell, I once did Quasimodo in the bell tower of Notre Dame Edna. Paris always makes me giddy with romance. But the last time I went down on Hurley, I got my head caught in a flab fold. Doc Jack had to use the Jaws of Life just to get my head free enough to drink. On the plus side, I found my keys --- and Jimmy Hoffa!

By the way, when we were getting into position for this photo shoot, we were standing on dry land, but when I saw how these four people looked in those shirts, well, I got a little damp. Then Sayid flashed his concealed weapon at me, and my water broke. Sawyer was washed out to sea. The last thing we heard him say was, "This is how I wanted to die1"

So Go WGA! The thought of a winter edition of Big Brother is unbearable! The whole point of that show is pretty young people running around naked. With the anorexic women they cast, a winter edition would mean girls with goosebumps larger than their breasts. And the shrivelling effect on the men would mean I'd have to watch on a big-screen, hi-def TV, with a microscope. "Hey baby, I've got eight pixels - erect!" That's not entertainment.

Cheers darlings!

My Name Is Jason Lee

All through the holiday, Your Mama has quietly and patiently awaited information from our spider web of informants and connections about the English Tudor style house on Dundee Drive in the Los Feliz Hills section of Los Angeles that Mister Big Time discussed on one of his recent installments of "Which Celebrity's House Is This?"
Your Mama's sources tell us that the house (pictured above) was purchased by mustachioed My Name Is Earl actor Jason Lee. As Mister Big Time noted, the property was purchased through a trust overseen by Kevin Burke, a manager whose name appears on the property records for scads of big name Scientologists, including those of indie singer/songwriter Beck and sexy actress Catherine Bell. A quick search through the internets turns up loads of information that connects Mister Lee to the Church of Scientology as well.

Interestingly, our sources also tell us that Mister Lee and his sexy mustache will soon be moving again. Although we have yet to locate property records that show a sale, Lucy Spillerguts, one of Your Mama's finest and most prolific sources tells us that Mister Lee is the buyer for the lovely Los Feliz residence of Robert Cray that was recently on the market for $3,250,000. Located on Hill Oak Road, the nearly 1 acre property includes a modest 2,205 square foot house with 3 bedrooms and 2.5 bathrooms, a separate office/guest house and an office/studio, plenty of room for all the visiting Thetans

We can't fathom why Mister Lee would buy a house in March of 2007 and then turn around and buy a much more expensive house just six months later. But then again, who are we to make sense of the real estate machinations of the rich and famous?

Discourse

As Your Mama eases back into the world of celebrity real estate after our quasi-holiday, we would like to note that we are shocked and dismayed by the personal attacks and free floating hating in the comments sections.

As most of the children know, Your Mama does not typically involve ourself in the commentary section of the blog. That space belongs to the children and Your Mama just loves to hear the children bicker and banter about the properties we discuss, the market conditions and various other issues and ideas.

Obviously y'all are free to comment and speak as you see fit, but children, we respectfully ask that you not turn the comments section into a juvenile jab fest taking pot shots at each other and even worse making anti-Semitic and homophobic remarks.

So, to all of our regular and beloved commentating readers (even the doom and gloom ones), Your Mama asks that you simply ignore the haters and move on. Engaging them in "discussion" is only an invitation for them to spew more insanity, and please know that the outrageous and hateful comments are not a reflection of Your Mama's personal point of view.

And P.S., for the anti-Semite out there who so eagerly made disparaging comments about a real estate agent, if you insist on putting ethnic slurs in the comments section of our little blog, please at least do us all the favor of spelling the slurs correctly. Because hunny, you sound ignorant making statements like that, and we just can't imagine you want to look stoopid too.

The Malibu Fire Rages On

While Your Mama and most of the children have spent the Thanksgiving holiday swaddled in the cozy bosom of family and friends, the residents of Malibu are once again coping with the horror and nightmare of a devastating conflagration ripping through the canyons taking down every tree, shrub and home in its violent path.

Our heart truly aches for the people of Malibu and we wait anxiously for the amazing firefighters to bring the blaze under control.

Now listen here children, Your Mama does not want to hear any of this nonsense in the comments section about not feeling sorry for the rich people in Malibu or any of that other crap that some of you moe-rons wrote during the last fire. First of all, not everyone in Malibu is rich. Secondly, and more importantly, all people bleed when hurt and losing a home to an out of control wildfire is a cataclysmic and shocking experience regardless of the size of ones bank account. If you haven't any sympathies for people losing their homes, well then, just keep your sad little mouths shut and wait for our next snarky discussion.
As Your Mama understands from news accounts, most of the many homes lost have been in the Latigo Canyon, Corral Canyon, Malibu Bowl and Malibu Hills areas. Included in the too long list of dozens of damaged or destroyed homes are those of a couple of famous rock stars. The long time Latigo Canyon home of Guns and Roses lead singer Axl Rose has been damaged (pictured above), and although his spokesperson says differently, the City of Malibu website lists Michael Balzary's Sycamore Meadows Drive mansion as been destroyed. Mister Balzary, better known as Flea from the Red Hot Chili Peppers, bought another house in Malibu earlier this year and has been trying to sell the Sycamore Meadows house for quite some time.

Hang on Malee-booans. Your Mama and the children send our deepest sympathies to all residents of Malibu regardless of their economic clout during this ravaging fire season.

Source: CNN (photo)

Wizard Whoopi

Well my catastrophe is passed. Oh there was no salvaging even a drop of that vodka that I'd poured into my computer in the vain hope that it would loosen up a bit, and stop giving me error messages, and maybe even fork over some free porn. No such luck. An entire fifth of vodka ruined. Even cutting out the section of carpet below the computer desk and wringing it out into a bucket did no good, although those were the happiest roaches I've ever squished. Anyway, I had to salve my horror with a few gallons of vodka I had on tap, and today, on post-Thanksgiving Day, I sent Little Dougie out at 4 AM to sit in line at The Liquor Barn with the savings-minded winos, awaiting the opening of the doors at 6 AM for their annual Vodka Clearance Sale. Oh, and while he was out, I also had him pick me up a new computer, so --- I'm Ba - ack!

What to write about today? So much is special about November 23. For one thing, it's the birthday of my fourth or fifth husband, Boris Karloff, who would have been 120 today. But I wrote about that last year, in my flogging Some Pratt's Birthday.

Then there's my annual annoyance at the way people start celebrating Christmas before the turkey is cleared off the table. (Though, to be fair, sometimes it's damned hard to get him to put his clothes back on and leave once I'm through with him.) Little Dougie wrote a wonderful song about it I love to trot out each year. Here it is:


TOO MUCH CHRISTMAS

It's beginning to look too much like Christmas,
Everywhere you go.
Thanksgiving was yesterday,
And now the streets look so gay,
Your eyes will blur,
And you'll get vertigo.

It's beginning to look too much like Christmas,
Gets worse after dark.
I really do hate to grouse,
But my God, my neighbor's house,
Looks like Disney's park.

Horrible tinsel and way too much chintz'll
Make everyone wish they were dead.
By far the worst folly is trees looking jolly,
When all of their leaves have been shed.
And I will grant another Santa,
Fills me up with dread.

It's beginning to look too much like Christmas,
Please gouge out my eyes.
You'll soon see a Yule log,
Blazing at the synagogue.
An elf robot? My brain lobotomize!

It's beginning to look too much like Christmas,
Soon my brain will split.
I hate to sound so gruff,
But I've already had enough,
Of this Yule bullshit.

Isn't that lovely? It always brings a tear to my thighs. At least I think they're tears. It's wet anyway. What other significance is there to November 23? Well, this year, it's the 44th anniversary of the original debut of Doctor Who, which you may remember, this past year included me as a character in their story Daleks in Manhattan. It's a sad anniversary this year,as Verity Lambert, the lady who co-created Doctor Who and was it's first producer and showrunner died yesterday. Why don't more people follow my example, and live? There's no trick to long life. It's simple. Just don't die.

Doctor Who is an appropriate place to start on my real topic today though. The Doctor, as a Time Lord, can regenerate whenever death approaches, a tactic that apparently slipped Verity's mind. Regeneration is a dead giveaway that someone is really a Time Lord, which brings me back to my recent sabbatical at Hogwart's, because, as all moviegoers know, Professor Fumblewhore recently regenerated! Check it out:




As if revealing himself as a Time Lord by regenerating wasn't revelation enough, we all know there was another big revelation about Fumblewhore this month, wasn't there?




Well, it's true. And not just Fumblewhore either. Remember Gandalf? We all know what a big old homo he is. Ah, I bet Fumblewhre and he love to reminisce about their days at the Brandywine Street Fairs back in West Hobbiton, flirting with the hotter elves.



Oh let's just face the fact: All wizards are gay. Every last, vibrating-wand-wielding one of them. Do you need further proof? Check out this shot, snapped at the Hogsmeade Gay Pride Festival only last week. (By the way, they aren't kidding when they named that town Hogsmeade. All they serve at that notorious gay pub The Hog's Head is butterbeer and mead actually made from hogs. It's ghastly. If I hadn't been so drunk, I wouldn't have drunk so much of it. When in Rome...)




At one point, during a wild night at The Hog's Head, the Invisibility Quilt slipped off the noisy bed across the room from me, and this was the horrible sight I couldn't stop looking at, photographing, and cheering on.



That's Fumblewhore underneath of course (Surely you realized he was a bottom? It's so obvious!), and on top, none other than Oz The Great and Terrible himself! He's versatile, but in which position is he great and in which is he terrible?

I should have realized Fumblewhore was gay. I made my first visit to Hogwart's for their Tri-Sexual Wizard Tournament. If you saw that movie, the maze where the tournament climaxed may have looked familiar. They shot it in The Befuddlement, the hedge labyrinth here at Morehead Heights, although in the movie they used special effects to make it look much smaller and simpler than it really is. Believe me, no matter how magical they are, you wouldn't send kids unescorted into The Befuddlement. You'd never see them again. Shelley Long went in at the party I threw celebrating her leaving Cheers (Why did she attend a party celebrating her leaving?) over 20 years ago, and she's never been seen since, or missed. Honestly, when a few cast members, and producers, and crafts services people, in all fun, suggested as a gag that she "Get lost", they didn't mean she should wander into The Befuddlement forever, although they have all learned to live with it. They just meant she should wait 20 years and then get cast on LOST. (They all hated JJ Abrams!)

Anyway, when I was there, Fumblewhore kept hitting on me, and even proposed marriage, a sure sign of homosexuality. If only he'd had a bigger wand. Or at least hadn't come between me and that grail full of hog's mead.




But I was quite taken at the time by the gamey keeper Fagrid. Because I like a Big man, if you know what I mean, and if you don't, I mean a man with a big dick. And Fagrid is about as big as they come. And he seemed to take to me as well.



We danced the night away at the Hogwart's White Party. Of course, since he's a half-giant, I wore heels. Unfortunately, I borrowed the heels from Ryan Seachrest. They're the ones he wears to try and look half as high as Simon Cowell, so my height was overcompensated.




I thought Fagrid loved me, but it turned out to be a misunderstanding. Someone (I suspect it was Draco Malfoy.) told Fagrid I was a drag queen (Which I am not! Will that rumor never end?), and he misunderstood, and thought I was a dragon. He loves dragons. The odd part is, we dated for two weeks, and even slept together a few times, before he realized I wasn't a dragon. I mean honestly, I do not look like a dragon, no matter what that old bitch Delores Delgado (a Hogwart's graduate herself, the old witch.) used to say. When I asked him about it, he said, "Well it's true you don't look a lot like a dragon, but your breath had me fooled." I've got to be more careful about exhaling around candles.


Speaking of Fagrid, he says his father was a normal-sized man. Fagrid could stand him on his shoulders when he was 12. It was his mother who was a giantess. This makes no sense to me. A normal-sized woman and a giant man I could understand. Why do you think I was dating Fagrid? For his looks? The man looks like Robbie Coltrane with extra hair. Who would want that? But a small man and a giant woman? Where's the fun in that? I guess Poppa Fagrid just liked a walk-in vagina! Fortunately, Fagrid had his mother's dick.


I mentioned in my earlier Hogwart's flogging that I was mad for Severus Snape. Well, that big old queen decided I wasn't his type when he found out I wasn't a drag queen also. He kept trying to keep the students away from me, calling me a "Fermentor," whatever they are. Honestly, you let it slip that you're a disciple of The Drunk Arts, and right away people are calling you a Fermentor, like the guards at Assmybuns prison. And this from Severus, a former Death Drinker himself. That's the gin calling the bourbon wet.


So I listened to the audio books of the whole freakin' Hairy Pothead series:


Hairy Pothead and the Stoned Philosopher. (Probably Plato. What a dipso. Ah, those Athenian nights we spent together.)


Hairy Pothead and the Secret Chamber Pot.


Hairy Pothead and the Prisoner of Assmybuns.


Hairy Pothead and the Gobbler of Fire Island.


Hairy Pothead and the Order of the Penis. (It was a Margarita.)


Hairy Pothead and the Half-Drunk Queen.


Hairy Pothead and the Deadly Bores. So what's the problem with me and children?






Most of Hogwart's graduates live in England or Middle-Earth, but I knew one famous Hogwartian who lived right here in Hollywood. Charming little Margaret Hamilton.



Maggie not only lived in California, but actually used to babysit my now-long-missing daughter Pattycakes. My darling daughter loved having Maggie sit with her, all alone in my large, haunted mansion so much that whenever I told her Maggie was on her way over, she would shriek and scream in delight, even as she padlocked all the broomclosets. Oddly though, Maggie scared the crap out of the Headless Indian Brave.



Maggie was a champion Queerditch player in her day. I've never been any good at Queerditching myself. I keep marrying them instead.


Anyway, as a parting gag I placed a curse on Little Hermione What's-Her-Name, the insufferable know-it-all. I cast a charm that soaked her hands in imaginary water whenever she slept. She never suspected it was me.



Well, we're beginning a new year here at The Morehead The Merrier. I hope you'll all stick around, and bring in your friends as well. Oh, and Little Dougie asked me to ask you to buy his new book The Q Guide to Classic Monster Movies, but you don't really have to.


Cheers darlings.

UPDATE: Slash

Finally some good real estate news for top hatted and litigious rock star Slash and his wifey Perla. It appears they may have finally sold off their Wattles Drive white elephant in the Hollywood Hills.

The children will recall that Mister and Missus Slash filed a million dollar plus lawsuit against the real estate agent who represented them during the purchase of this house back in December of 2005 because, they allege, they were misinformed about the size of the house, the amount of parking on the property, whether the property is or is not located on a private street, and various other sundry and silly issues.

Shortly after purchasing the property for $6,250,000, the Slashers decided they didn't want the 5 bedroom and 6.5 bathroom mini manse after all. So they dropped it back on the market for $6,995,000. Despite several price reductions, the house languished on the market and the asking price was eventually brought down to $5,995,999, a number significantly less than the sue happy homeowners paid for the property.

Well, glory hallelujah because MLS information for the property is marked "Looking for a Backup" which indicates the house has finally gone into escrow. Of course a thousand and one things can still go wrong to cause the deal to go down one of the seven terlits in the house. For example, the potential buyers might be bothered by the parking situation at the house and decide to back out.

UPDATE: Ellen Degeneres

Foreclosures may be up and the mortgage mess might be wreaking havoc on middle-class homeowners, but the rich and famous still have plenty of money to buy, sell and flip high end houses. The Wall Street Journal's Private Properties column reported this week that perpetual and peripatetic house hopper Ellen Degeneres and her ladee lover Portia Di Rossi have a deal on their meticulously manicured 4-acre Montecito estate. The children will recall that the gurls bought the property just 14 months ago for a reported $15,750,000, made a few improvements and whipped around and put the George Washington Smith designed Mediterranean style estate back on the market for a staggering $24,000,000. No word on what amount the new owners will be paying for the property, but we can all safely assume that it will be enough to put millions into Ellen's beige Birkin bag.

The paper also reports what Your Mama revealed back in late October that Miz Degeneres and Di Rossi have purchased Will and Grace co-creator Max Mutchnick's recently over-hauled 8,800 (approx.) square foot Bev Hills house. Your Mama has also heard that Mister Mutchnick spent many millions doing over the long and low house that once belonged to professional behatcha Joan Collins. We understand that a new swimming pool was installed with a series of rooms underneath. Yes children, underneath the swimming pool.

This is not the first house the Miz Degeneres has purchased from Mister Mutchnick. According to property records and one of Your Mama's finest sources, Miz Degeneres purchased a house on Woodstock Road from Mister Mutchnick back in April of 2003. The house has since been sold to freakishly successful funny man Will Ferrell.

Although the sale price has not been disclosed, revealed or reported, Your Mama hears from inside sources that the gurls paid $26-30,000,000 for Cabrillo Drive property. We have no way of confirming the purchase price children, so realize that number is just gossip and hearsay at this point, and not hand-on-the-bible truth. According to the WSJ, the purchase price, whatever it was, included much of the furnishings and artwork.

Although property records do not indicate a sale, Your Mama also hears from more than one Beverly Hills blabbermouth that the real estate rich lesbians also bought the house across the street from their new digs, which is owned by celebrity real estate agent Jade Mills.

We have to wonder how long these two will stay living in this house up on Cabrillo Drive. For their own stability, we hope a very long time. For our sake, we hope that pack it up in less than a year because we just love discussing there constant moving.