Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Alexis Stewart, Space Hog


BUYER: Martha Stewart (originally thought to be Alexis Stewart)
LOCATION: 165 Charles Street, 15th Floor, New York City
PRICE: $16,000,000
SIZE: 4,890 square feet, 4-6 bedrooms, 5.5 bathrooms (total for both units)
DESCRIPTION: The apotheosis of living as art. Sited atop Pritzker Prize-laureate Richard Meier's final iconic tower on the Hudson River is this unique parcel of units to be easily combined. A plalette both cool and sleek swaths the elegant, sparse lines within the individual rooms, replicated throughout the holistic thesis. With a total of 5 bedrooms, riverfront balconies, formal dining room and 5.5 baths...

YOUR MAMAS UPDATE: Check out the update for this purchase...

YOUR MAMAS NOTES: That's right babies, Alexis Stewart, the daughter of media tycoon and domestic diva Martha Stewart, just spent $16 million smackers on two adjacent apartments comprising the entire 15th floor and 4,879 square feet of Richard Meier's breathtaking glass tower on the corner of Hudson and Charles Streets in the West Village. This is not the first time Alexis has been to this horse race. According to Max Abelson of the New York Observer, in September 2006 the younger Ms. Stewart spent just over $19,000,000 to gobble up three contiguous units at the Charles Street building which she intends to combine into a 6,900 square foot triplex apartment.

We hate to sound like a hater, but Your Mama smells her mama's buttery leather Hermes wallet. Don't you? Alexis earns her own money yakking it up on Sirius Satellite Radio where she hosts a program with Jennifer Hutt called Whatever with Alexis and Jennifer. However, we find it impossible to believe she's pulling down enough paper to acquire $35,000,000 in real estate in one fell swoop. Your Mama used to think having Big Miss Martha as our mama would be dismal, but we're starting to rethink that.

The first two Meier towers, sheathed in green glass, house many notable New Yorkers and household name celebrities including Calvin Klein (triplex penthouse at 176 Perry), Vincent Gallo (at 173 Perry) and Scott Resnick (also at 173 Perry). Even Big Miss Martha once owned in these buildings. She paid $6,100,000 for the duplex penthouse at 173 Perry, but never moved in and sold the unit just prior to her imprisonment in 2004.

The third and final Meier tower, at 165 Charles, has been completely sold and many of its residents also have recognizable names including Natalie Portman and gallerist Barbara Gladstone.

The Meier towers, for all their publicity and big name tenants, have been mired in controversy, particularly the north building at 173 Perry. An article that ran in a 2004 issue of Vanity Fair had owners complaining about buckling terraces, failing heat, and leaking ceilings. In fact before selling her apartment, Big Miss Martha's penthouse terrace flooded sending water cascading down the building. The damage was so extensive that one owner, six floors below the penthouse, was forced to have his expensive rosewood floor ripped up and re-installed due to the water damage.

The buildings were also plagued by a never caught gunman who shot at the building on several different occasions. The bullets never came through the glass, but you can imagine the fear and panic this caused. Even still, the high drama has not kept the apartments from turning over or the prices sky-rocketing. Many of the buildings' original owners have already flipped their apartments making enormous profits.

Your Mama has a funny little story, unrelated to the real estate, about the younger Ms. Stewart. We have a gal pal, whom we will call Loreliei, who has spent a great deal of time at all of Big Miss Martha's properties including her house on Lily Pond Lane in Southampton. One day a few years ago Lorelei was standing in the driveway of the Lily Pond Lane house and sees the younger Ms. Stewart across the yard with her dog and a plastic bag full of doggy poop. After a quick glance around and thinking no one can see her, Alexis tossed the bag into the tall hedge at the edge of the property.

We're not sure if she did this because she was too lazy to take the shit to the garbage can or if this was a small act of rebellion and defiance towards her mama who, as you might imagine, does not tolerate any dog poop left in the yard.

We can't be sure what Alexis is planning to do with the 11,000+ square footage she now owns, but Max Abelson reported that his source told him that Alexis hired fancy schmancy celebrity architect Annabel le Selldorf to re-do and combine the interiors.

Your Mama would like the children to note that the photos above are not the apartments purchased by Alexis, but were nicked from the building's online publicity brochure. Also for those not overly familiar with New York City and the Meier buldings, 165 Charles is the tower at the right of the photo. The floor plan shown is the original layout of the apartments on the 15th floor, however, we don't know if there were any alterations to this layout before Ms. Stewart purchased.

Sources: NY Observer, New York Times, nyc-architecture.com (building photo), 165Charles.com (floorplan and interior photos)

Yo Dawgs, It's The Randy Jackson Crib

SELLER: Randy Jackson
LOCATION: Otis Avenue, Tarzana, CA
PRICE: $2,999,876
SIZE: 5,878 square feet, 5 bedrooms, 7.5 bathrooms
DESCRIPTION: Private driveway. Secure and secluded. 5 bedrooms and 7.5 baths. Custom Villa on over half an acre. Guest house, pool and spa. Over 5,800 sq. ft. in main house. Large romantic master w/ his and hers baths. Pecan wood throughout. Chef's kitchen. Breakfast room and butlers pantry. Large formal dining, huge family room w/ limestone fireplace and wood beam ceilings. Amazing private yard. Simply stated, it's a beautiful Gem, Showed cold! 10 plus!

YOUR MAMAS UPDATE: The property has been reduced from $3,199,000 to the rather unusual asking price of $2,999,876.

YOUR MAMAS NOTES: When American Idol judge and star maker Randy Jackson leaves the big thee-a-ter and heads home for some rest and relaxation, he drives over into Tarzana. That's right babies, you heard Your Mama correctly, Tarzana? Lawhd hunnies, does anyone even know where that is?

Gossip fiends might recognize the name of the place even if they can't locate it on a map. Kevin Federline lays up in Tarzana with two of his four kiddies while that troubled Britney gurl gets her act together at the Promises rehab center in Malee-boo and their lawyers draw up the dee-vorce papers. According to the inestimable Ruth Ryon, doyenne of the Hot Properties column in the LA Times, Jaime Presely also calls this community home. Well, at least until she sells the the house she recently listed for $1,400,000.

Anyhoo, long before the juggernaut that is American Idol, Mister Jackson had an enormously successful and well respected career as a session musician and music producer whose credits include many hundreds of gold and platinum albums. Never shy to toot his own horn, this dawg does not evah miss an opportunity to let the television audience know he has worked with such illustrious artists as Whitney Houston, Madonna, Elton John, and Mariah Carey. What's odd about him constantly bragging about working with Mariah is that Jackson was responsible for writing and producing a couple of songs on her universally panned Glitter album and also for a couple songs on her lackluster Charmbracelet album. She may be a superstar, but certainly Jackson's achieved much greater success with other artists.

As all the children probably know, this American Idol program, now in it's 49th or 104th cycle or something, airs a mind boggling and frustrating three times a week. Lawhd babies, we don't want to, but Your Mama can not help but watch this program. It's on all the damn time. It's almost as bad as those Law and Order programs which air so frequently they haunt Your Mama in our sleep. Not only that, American Idol interferes with our ability to watch that irresistible Trya Banks mess America's Next Top Model. Don't lie children, we know you love it too.

We know American Idol pulls in a huge, obsessed audience and remains stupendously popular. But Your Mama will confess to all our children that we find the quibbling between the judges downright irritating. If we could, we would reach into that television and smack these people. Not only that, all that sassing has a false ring to it. We can't prove it, but Your Mama would bet the lives of our bitches Linda and Beverly that all the bickering and brawling is contractually obligated.

On a side note here, has anyone noticed that Miss Paula Abdul has not seemed nearly as befuddled and zoned out as during the press tour leading up the to show? Remember those interviews with her writhing and rambling desperately trying to keep her eyes open? This bitch claims she's never been drunk. Please.

Your Mama knows that some of you American Idol fans can be a little intense so we're going to keep the street number of Mister Jackson's house locked up in our vault. Even still, don't none of you nut jobs get any crazy ideas about driving your Saturn out to Tarzana and cruising up and down Otis Avenue looking for this house. That would just be wasting gas you surely can't afford to waste. See babies, Mr. Jackson's residence is tucked back behind another house and you should believe Your Mama when we tell you that the house can not be seen from the street.

Other than it's Tarzana location, we don't have a lot of negative feelings about this house.
Mister Jackson's Mediterranean manse is accessed down a long, gated drive. And all the children know how much Your Mama loves a long gated drive. The decor is mostly in good taste if not our taste. Of course we would have preferred not to see the upright piano and guitars pushed up into the corner of the family room, but this is the home of a musician, so we can accept this.

The only other serious issue we have with this house are the bare walls. Your Mama was able to see many more photos of this property than we have presented here. Most of the walls remain perplexedly bare. Mister Jackson didn't get rich from American Idol, he's been rich for a good long time. Why hasn't this man invested in some nice pictures to put on the walls? Seriously. We love a plasma television, in fact Your Mama just bought one to put over our fireplace, but they do not and can not take the place of a nice piece of artwork. Mister Jackson, if you're reading this, shoot Your Mama an email, we can help you get get in touch with an art buyer who will help you build a collection worthy of someone of your wealth and stature.

According to property records, Mister Jackson purchased this home in May of 2005. Your Mama isn't knowledgeable as to where Mister Jackson and his family will be moving, but we have a hunch it's will be someplace a little less humble. And we hope, not in Tarzana.

Monday, February 26, 2007

Merv Griffin in Carmel Valley

SELLER: Merv Griffin
LOCATION: Camino de Travesia Road, Carmel Valley, CA
PRICE: $6,200,000
SIZE: 57 acres, 11 bedrooms, 11 full bathrooms 3 half bathrooms
DESCRIPTION: Escape the busy life for a romantic and private rendezvous. Up a gated drive leads to this beautiful and stunning mountain-top retreat. The property opens to the entertainment area with gourmet kitchen, large dining and great room surrounded by lush landscaping with rose gardens, olive trees, and beautiful breathtaking mountain and canyon views! Rich with local and Hollywood history, this renowned retreat captured the heart of Hollywood heavy weight, Merv Griffin and his princess, Eva Gabor. This home is an enchanted hideaway.

YOUR MAMAS NOTES: Yes children, we thought this man was dead too. But he is by all accounts alive and kicking. But before we got to the real estate, let's discuss a bit about Merv.

Merv Griffin has unquestionably achieved professional greatness. He pioneered the lurid world of talk shows dealing with incendiary issues and paved the way for folks like Sally Jesse Raphael and Maury Povich. He created the two most successful game shows to ever air on television (Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune) and in the process, inconceivably, made Pat Sajak and Alex Trebek household names.

After selling his television entertainment company, Merv Griffin Enterprises, for a quarter of billion dollars he bought up big name hotels and casinos including the legendary Beverly Hilton Hotel and the Merv Griffin Resort & Givenchy Spa in Palm Springs, which is now the Parker Meridien Hotel where, oddly enough, Your Mama and the Doctor Cooter will be spending a few days in April sprawled out by the pool drinking Bloody Marys and snacking on fried calamari.

Next Merv entered the strange and dangerous world of casino ownership after he famously and vivaciously duked it out with Donald Trump for ownership of Resorts International, a large and rambling company that owned Paradise Island, a hotel and casino in the Bahamas.

And even at the advanced age of 80+ years old, Merv remains a vital and virile business man who takes obvious pleasure in minting money. He has a team of people who work with him formulating and bouncing around (reality) television show ideas and he recently subdivided 200 acres of his once sprawling La Quinta horse ranch into the eponymously named luxury housing development Griffin Ranch.

But for better or worse, and perhaps even predictably, Your Mama does not find Merv's professional successes nearly as intriguing as we find his personal life. Merv is a rare thing in the Hollywood establishment in that he's a staunch, right wing conservative who donates large amounts of cash to Republican candidates. It's no secret Merv was best pals with Ronnie and Nancy Reagan, but he also has a friendly relationship with our current president. In a recent article in Rolling Stone, Merv had this to say about our dear leader: ''Oooooh, I love him, yes,'' says Merv. ''He's funny, bright, intelligent and loves to have a good time." Your Mama does not mean to get political here, but that scares the skin right off our bones.

As all the children know, as long as Merv has been in the spot light, he has bobbed and weaved around publicly declaring his (homo)sexuality. When asked about it, he visibly bristles, often tries to change the subject to his one-time gal pal Eva Gabor, or makes some sort of unnerving quip as he did in a New York Times article when he said, "I'm a quatre-sexual. I will do anything with anybody for a quarter." What?!?

In 1991 poor Merv was forced to confront the gay rumors head on in two separate lawsuits. In the first, Brent Plott, a former employee whose job has been described as Merv's secretary/driver/horse-trainer/bodyguard, sued for palimony. PALIMONY!!! This queen claimed he had been Merv's longtime live in lover and figured that having sex with the corpulent Merv was worth $200 million. Merv cried extortion and eventually the suit was dismissed.

However, it wasn't long before Merv found himself sued again. This time by Denny Terrio. Remember him children? He was the host of Dance Fever back in the early 1980s. Terrio charged sexual harassment claiming he was unfairly fired after he declined Merv's sexual advances. This case was also tossed out as well.

We imagine Merv felt vindicated, his reputation as a straight man intact. Of course, it really is Merv's business if he doesn't want to discuss the details of his private life. However, the truth is, no one in Hollywood believes for a minute that Merv likes the ladies. Anyone who has ever been within 30 feet of Merv, and Your Mama has, knows this man shrieks, swishes, gushes, and waves his arms around like a big ol' queen as he makes grand pronouncements and not so funny jokes. Anyone with eyes and ears can plainly see this man is as fruity as fruit cake. And we want it stated for the record, we do not say that to slander or in anyway degrade Merv's reputation. Hunnies, you know Your Mama loves us some fruit cake, right?

Like so many big money Hollywood types, Merv has a lot of houses. In addition to the spread in Carmel Valley we're going to discuss here, he maintains a mansion in Beverly Hills, a house in Ireland, and a 40-acre Morroccan themed horse ranch in La Quinta which includes four circular guest units. And like all good tycoons with money to burn, he spends a few months each summer aboard a large boat, his 142-foot yacht, "Griff."

According to the Real Estate Journal, Merv purchased the property in the 1970s. He actually put listed the property in 2000 but quickly changed his mind and took it off the market. He now says he's selling the spread because he infrequently visits the 57 acre property. The property, about 150 miles south of San Francisco, consists of several buildings including a central building that includes an 860 square foot living/dining room and a kitchen but strangely no bedrooms. All the bedrooms are in separate units surrounding the pool.

Obviously the setting is magnificent. We imagine wandering the grounds soaking up the vistas and hazy light of Carmel Valley would be a lovely way to spend some time. We love the heated pool with it's generous limestone patio. The extensive gardens, at least the bits that can be seen in the photos, are clearly well tended. We imagine this might be taken care of by a hunky gardener who lives on the property?

The listing also states there is an outdoor dance floor on the property. Can the children picture the scene here in the 1970s? Your Mama imagines there might have been a lot of feathered hair, tight pants, mustaches, and maybe even loads of amyl nitrate. Or maybe Merv and gal pal Eva Gabor spent many a misty and cool evenings here slow dancing in the moonlight.

As the children might surmise, Your Mama feels deep puzzlement and distress about the decor. Merv has mountains of money and could have easily hired a nice gay decorator to go up in there and work some magic. But alas. We are mortified by the dated and distressing rose colored carpet. Has that carpet been in place since the property was first bought in the 1970s? Was that choice made by Merv or by "his princess" Eva Gabor? Whatever the case, that carpet could not be ripped up quickly enough.

The kitchen, well appointed as it may be with its double ovens and warming drawers, is a little "down home" for Your Mama's taste. That ridiculous floral valance over the windows makes us sick. All you people who think these puffy, elaborately printed and colored valances are a good idea need to march yourselves down to your local magazine stand and purchase a few magazines that do not have the word "country" as part of it's title. Seriously. These valances are the equivalent of a woman wearing too much make-up...it's not necessary and it looks tacky.

The property includes a 1 acre vineyard that Merv has bottled up under the label "Mont Merveilleux," most of which he gives away at charity auctions. Merv seems to like this "Merveilleux" moniker. He calls the man-made lake out back of his house in La Quinta "Lac Merveilleux." Let's be honest children, how gay is that? Please.

Sources: Real Estate Journal, Rolling Stone, New York Times, Sotheby's

Mariska Hargitay Double Whammy (New York City)

SELLER: Mariska Hargitay and Peter Hermann
LOCATION: Beach Street, Tribeca, New York City
PRICE: $6,495,000 (maintenance and taxes / $3330 per month)
SIZE: 2,500 square feet (approx.), 3 bedrooms, 2.5 bathrooms
DESCRIPTION: The penthouse is a spectacular duplex with terrace designed by renowned interior decorator Jeffry Bilhuber. This home has a loft-life feeling with over nine feet ceiling heights, with spectacular chef's kitchen (all stainless steel Viking appliances) opening into a formal dining room and living room. In addition there are 3 full bedrooms, home office, laundry room, and 2.5 large bathrooms. The apartment has spectacular views of the city from floor to ceiling windows facing south and west. Completely unique in Manhattan, this penthouse has its own private garage.

YOUR MAMAS NOTES: In our last posting we discussed the Los Angeles residence of Miss Mariska Hargitay and her huzband Pulchritudinous Peter Hermann. For those of you who did not read that post we have two things to say: 1. Shame on you. And 2. You can read all about that house as well as a bit about Miss Mariska's Hollywood blood line by clicking here.

Now, back in New York, Your Mama is pleased to see this couple went out and hired a top notch decorator (Jeffrey Bilhuber) to do up their Tribeca penthouse. After suffering through the rather dull decor of their Los Angeles home, we were pleasantly surprised at the elegance and comfort of their New York penthouse apartment.

Being very security conscious, we welcome the key-lock elevator opening directly into the apartment. This situation ensures there are no worries about creepy and chatty neighbors lurking about in a common hallway. There is nothing worse than having to make impossibly banal conversation about the weather with your boring neighbor or having to fret about them knocking on your door asking to borrow your vacuum. Next we move through the narrow hallway, or the "gallery" as the listing agent has indicated on the floor plan, and we arrive at the main living space.

At 48 feet, the living room/dining room combination is nearly long enough for a bowling lane. But the rather narrow width concerns Your Mama, especially given the somewhat awkward location of the fireplace. A skinny room like this can easily feel claustrophobic, even with the huge windows. However, we would like to give Mr. Bilhuber and his team their props for an exceptional job with the furniture placement. Also, eggplant is a color we would usually forbid using, but up against that amazing sea foam colored rug in the living room we stand corrected.

We imagine the wonderfully large windows grab tremendous light. What our readers won't know unless they are familiar with the building, is that no other buildings obstruct the sight lines from this building and every window of this 7th floor penthouse has nice long views. Obviously this set up is also good for privacy.

All the children who read our little blog on a regular basis know Your Mama is not particularly fond of wide open "loft" style apartments. We hate looking at dirty dishes when we're parked on the sofa channel surfing. And even more distressing, we hate seeing the Dr. Cooter parked on the sofa channel surfing while Your Mama toils away in the kitchen. The "U" shape plan on Miss Mariska's penthouse cleverly breaks up sight lines and allows for a desirable visual separation of space.

The floor plan shows a fairly small second bedroom, but given that the room has it's own private pooper, we can forgive the size. The master bedroom, at the back of the penthouse, has a lovely little foyer, a huge walk in closet divided into two sections, and a nice bathroom. The floor plan does not show a terlit up in there, but we're sure that's just an oversight. Our real concern with the master bath is the same we have for all the bathrooms in this penthouse: mold. We're sure Miss Mariska has her housekeeper scrub each of those bathrooms until her knuckles bleed and her knees are bruised, but we always feel more relaxed in a bathroom that is ventilated with a window or two.

We admire that Mr. Bilhuber managed to squeeze in a small office space behind the kitchen. But we are concerned that once you get the maid up in there doing the laundry, there isn't enough room or privacy to make the space as useful as we might want. Certainly Pulchritudinous Peter won't be looking at much porn in this room when the maid is around.

Up the stairs and out a (hopefully) heavily secured door sits a large private roof terrace. The Brown Harris Stevens listing shows the terrace at 812 square feet and the floor plan shows it at 1,475 square feet. Math is not our subject, but Your Mama's rudimentary calculations have us believing the number shown on the floor plan. Everyone knows that ordinarily Your Mama swoons over roof terraces like this. However we are extremely uneasy about the air quality up on this terrace. See babies, this building is located right on the very busy traffic circle that is frequently clogged with bumper to bumper traffic as it exits the Holland Tunnel.

Additionally we are troubled by the amount of noise. We know for a fact all those terrible drivers from New Jersey come barreling through that tunnel and before they even get up in this traffic circle they are laid up on their horns making enough noice to wake the dead in China. Your Mama's opninon is these damn fools think that just because they have drove their shiny Lexus into Manhattan they are entitled to tear around like they're still in suburban New Jersey.

We don't want to get any bitchy emails from you people about this neither. If you are from New Jersey, and you drive into Manhattan, you should expect the traffic snarls. Contrary to how they are most often used, horns are not for expressing displeasure. If you do not have the fortitude and patience for the traffic in Manhattan, well then hunnies, ride the damn bus or take that PATH train thing.

We imagine the reason Miss Mariska and Pulchritudinous Peter are moving house is not just because they want more square footage–which we know they do–but because the nanny can not get that child to sleep at any time of the day or night due to the traffic noise.

Now that we got our blood pressure up, you can see why this apartment is not for Your Mama. If we lived here we are sure we would be so disturbed by the blaring and racket we would quickly lose our mind and the Dr. Cooter would come home one day to find us using a slingshot to hurl rotten eggs down the cars.

Sources: Brown Harris Stevens

Mariska Hargitay Double Whammy (Los Angeles)

SELLER: Mariska Hargitay and Peter Hermann
LOCATION: Warbler Way, Los Angeles, CA
PRICE: $2,699,000
SIZE: 2,944 square feet, 5 bedrooms, 5.5 bathrooms
DESCRIPTION: Perched atop Warbler Way is this fabulous pool home w/ 2 story guest house and bird's-eye views. Versatile floor plan boats everything from a great room, complete w/ soaring beamed ceilings, a cook's open-island kit w/ stainless appliances, LR w/ gorgeous fireplace, wood floor throughout, and open dining all surrounded by amazing windows. A loft den flows to awesome upper view deck, great for entertaining. Bonus Media room and wine room, too. All this so close to the city and an absolute must see.

YOUR MAMAS NOTES: Recently we discussed Vincent D'Onofrio's New York City apartment and Your Mama complained about how ev-er-ee time we turn on the television one of these damn Law and Order programs comes on scaring the devil out of us with all the axe murderers and pedophiles. And now, just a week later we can't turn out our computer without getting tips and information about another ack-tress from the television juggernaut that is the Law and Order franchise.

See babies, Mariska Hargitay, who plays tough detective Olivia Benson, is selling both her New York and Los Angeles residences. We will be bringing the children information on both places, but first Your Mama is going to walk you through a little history of Beverly Hills real estate as it relates to our discussion of Miss Mariska.

Hargitay, for those of you who live in a hole, has Hollywood royalty running in her veins as she is the daughter of Mr Universe Micky Hargitay and sex bomb Jayne Mansfied. In 1967 wee little Mariska, along with her two brothers were in the back seat of an automobile when it collided with an insecticide truck just outside Biloxi, Mississippi. Tragically, Mansfield and two others were killed instantly.

For better or worse, Mansfield was an early model for such "celebrities" as recently deceased Anna Nicole Smith, Zsa Zsa Gabor, and of course, the almost inconceivable Angelyne. The platinum blond with the mammoth mammaries was more famous for her lavish lifestyle and outlandish behavior than for her cinematic career. In 1961 Mansfield and Mr. Universe bought a large Spanish Colonial style house at 10100 Sunset Boulevard for $74,000. The 8 bedroom/13 bathroom house, originally built in the 1920s for Rudy Vallee, became the first childhood home of baby Mariska.

The couple set about turning their new home into a Hollywood extravaganza. The house was given the moniker "The Pink Palace" after Mansfield had it painted a soft shade of pink. The house famously glistened and sparkled because the pink paint was mixed with crushed sandstone which refracted the sunlight when it shone on the house. While that sounds lovely, Your Mama is concerned that might have been a hazard to the drivers on Sunset Boulevard.

The house quickly because a tourist trap. Cars and buses would slow down and stop out front so the people could gawk and guffaw at the big wrought iron gates that featured the initials "JM" centered in her signature heart shape. Mansfield loved the attention and would often step out onto a balcony facing Sunset to preen and wave to her adoring fans.

The most unusual and notable feature of the house was without doubt the spectacularly kooky heart-shaped pool with the words "I love you Jaynie" spelled out in mosaics on the bottom (see photo below.) That pool is so over the top Your Mama can't help but love it.

On a side note, Mansfield's may have been the first, but it was not the only heart shaped pool in Los Angeles. Aging radio head Casey Kasem and his freaky wife Jean (who oddly enough styles herself after Ms. Mansfield) live in a house over on N. Mapleton Drive that also has a heart shaped pool.

Directly behind The Pink Palace was Owlwood, another very famous and fabled estate that was once owned by Tony Curtis and later Sonny and Cher. Across the road from The Pink Palace was the one time Esther Williams Colonial style mansion with it's startling, but not surprisingly, large swimming pool.

After Mansfield's death, The Pink Palace is said to have been variously occupied by Mama Cass and Ringo Starr. Your Mama can not confirm those occupants, but we do know that cheese ball crooner Englebert Humperdinck purchased The Pink Palace and occupied it for 17 years before selling it in 2002 to the owner of Owlwood. Mansfield's beloved Pink Palace, as well as the Esther Williams house, were demolished by the owner of Owlwood in order to create a monstrous 10 acre estate for himself.

Anyhoo, Your Mama seriously digressed there, but we wanted the children to know what sort of real estate world Mariska Hargity was born into. And from the photos anyone can see Miss Mariska does not have the same extravagant taste as her mama.

Miss Mariska and her sexy huzband Peter Hermann purchased this house only in January 2006 for $1,560,000. The couple must be intense negotiators as the house had been on the market for $2,250,000.

Like just about everyone else in Los Angeles, Your Mama appreciates and covets the Bird Street location of this house. But we do have a few concerns. From the front, the house appears to be just two stories. But this is deceiving as the back this house drops down the canyon making it more than four floors tall.

It can't be seen in the photographs here, but there is a terrace off the top floor master bedroom. While we imagine the views are astounding, Your Mama worries about our vertigo acting up while this high off the ground.

And of course, Your Mama could never live in a house with this many stairs. Why didn't someone think to install an elevator here? Lawhd children it would take Your Mama two whole days and an oxygen tank to climb all the damn stairs from the swimming pool on the lowest level to the master bedroom at the top. Of course, most people in Los Angeles are health and exercise nuts so perhaps they see this sort of set up as a way to further tone their booties. Not Your Mama. We would rather sit on the sofa watching reruns of The Golden Girls and eating Girl Scout cookies than break a sweat trying to get up and down the stairs to the terlit.

Interestingly, this house is just around the corner from Fawn Hall's place (which we discussed here). Your Mama wonders if these two ever called each other up to complain about the neighbors garbage cans or had each other over for a couple of beers by the pool.

We're sorry to say the lackluster decor of the house leaves us feeling empty. The more we look at the photos the more we think the place looks (not very well) staged. The primary reason, as our loyal reader Stormy pointed out to us, is that wretched PEAR painting hanging in the kitchen. We found one of these abominations in Cher's flip in Palm Springs and we found another in Brad and Angelina's new place in Nawlins. And now we find another up in Miss Marishka's house in Los Angeles. Lawhd children, is there a cabal of gay decorators and stagers out there trying to kill Your Mama with these upsetting and unconscionable pieces of shit? Seriously, this has to stop.

Anyhoo, perhaps this property was just an investment and the couple is flipping it like so many other Hollywood types looking to make a quick million bucks? Or maybe they bought this place without considering the difficulty in finding a nanny for the new baby who would be willing to hike up and down all those stairs? Whatever the case, this family is indeed moving on, likely to a more family friendly house and one, we're guessing, with a little better security than this one.

Sources: Abingdon Virgina News, Find A Death

The O Word

My longtime readers and fans know that I have only contempt for that silly trinket known as "The Oscar". This is why I have refused ever to accept even a nomination, let alone the award itself, for the full 79 years of it's meaningless existence. And, to give them their due, the Academy and it's cadets have honored my feelings by never nominating me for anything, although they could have at least shown me the respect of nominating me and letting me turn it down. People might get the right idea, particularly given some of the people who have been nominated in the past. (John Travolta? Ryan O'Neal? John Wayne? Delores Delgado? Larry Olivier? Get real.)

In any event, The Oscars have grown into such a major event, the so-called "Gay Superbowl", that they are impossible to ignore. So what the swill? I might as well weigh in with my two Euros. I was of course, begged to be a presenter, but I swore off presenting the award after the debacle of 1949, when I nearly had to present an Oscar to that hateful sow Delores Delgado; a fate I avoided only by quick thinking, and announcing Jane Wyman as the winner, assuming, I'm sure correctly, that the words "Delores Delgado" on the card in the envelope were simply a misspelling of "Jane Wyman". Additionally, there is no open bar at The Oscars, so I watch it at home like you nobodies out there, where I can enjoy an aperitif or 30 while the show drags on and on. So now I present my own thoughts and observations of the endless program.

To begin with the most important point, let me set my own and everyone else’s minds at rest: once again this year, my face and name were not included in the Obituary Montage. Despite all appearances to the contrary, it seems I have not died yet. What a relief, although I do wish they would move the Obituary Montage up to earlier in the show. It's hard to concentrate until the suspense is over. I'm sure Peter O’Tool, sitting there in the Kodak audience, was equally relieved to not see himself.

That said, I was horrified to learn that my beloved Don Knotts had passed away during the last year. I had no idea. He never phoned to tell me. What a man! How well I remember those nights of unbridled passion, as he erotically tied me up in Knotts. With that trademark tremble of his, the man was a living vibrator, even if he was, once in a while, The Incredible Mr. Limp. Well, it’s nice to know that he has been, at long, long last, reunited with his career. I wonder if they recognized each other in the hereafter; it's been so long.

There was a half hour delay getting the show started, owing to the fact that last year’s Oscar Award Show wasn’t quite over yet. While we waited for Brokeback Mountain to get robbed of it’s deserved reward, ABC filled in with a dull half hour of Red Carpet coverage. Please! I stopped getting The Red Carpet back in the 1940s, and I don’t miss it. I understand there was an amusing moment over on the TV Guide channel, when Joan Rivers mistook Melissa Rivers for Forest Whitaker, an easy mistake anyone could make, particularly if you do no preparation at all.

After a completely pointless nominee montage, which erred greatly in omitting clips of Caligula from Peter O’Tool’s & Helen Mirrin’s clips (What an oversight!), first-and-last-time Oscar Hostess Ellen Degeneris made a daring break with Oscar Host Tradition. Normally the hosts, usually funny people like Billy Crystal, Steve Martin, Whoopi Goldberg, and last year's superb Jon Stewart, deliver stinging, hilarious, incisive, side-splitting comedy monologues you talk about for days. Ellen made the unexpected choice of instead opening the dreary, endless ceremonies with a laugh-free, dramatic monologue, with fewer giggles than a Sophoclean tragedy. I must say, Ellen delivering her tragic monologue dressed in a coat from Captain Kangaroo's hand-me-downs, made David Letterman’s disastrous hosting job a decade back look a lot better. I never thought anyone could make me recall with nostalgia Chris Rock’s Oscar monologue.

They did move to the top of the show, the montage on the Technical Oscars Award Ceremonies, generally known as "The Boring Awards." I don't know why the gorgeous Jake Gyllenhaal chose to present this part of the show in drag, but he should not have shaved his chest.

I was certainly impressed by the Mormon Tabernacle Sound Effects Choir, though I wish I could have heard them singing the disemboweling sounds that Apocalypto was filled with from end to end. It's bound to be pleasanter and more musical than It's Hard Out Here For a Pimp.

Everyone was shocked when great actor Alan Arkin beat the odds-on favorite for Best Supporting Actor: comedian, homophobe, and friend of the working tranny, Eddie Murphy. Maybe if they'd held back the release of Norbit until after the ballots were in, Eddie might have won, although a famous homophobe winning during a ceremony hosted by a famously out lesbian seems borderline inappropriate.

Fortunately, there was still a supporting performer award for a famous homophobe, when Jennifer Hudson picked up her gold statuette. Of course, Jennifer insists that she's not a homophobe, it's just that in her church, God hates fags and is sending them all to hell. She's sorry about it, but she doesn’t make the rules; her god does. Of course, she might wonder why, if God is going to send all homosexuals to hell, why did He/She create them homosexual in the first place? But then, if people applied logic to matters of faith, all the churches would be empty. Jen darling, in order for something to be a sin, it has to involve the exercise of Free Will. Homosexuality is in-born. It’s not a choice, therefore it can’t be a sin. I know your church says differently, but guess what: your church is wrong.

We know that it is God who chooses the winners, because Miss Hudson had to thank God twice in her speech. (Where was the orchestra-drown-out when we needed it?) But why would God then reward a godless lesbo like Melissa Etheridge? Theology makes my head hurt.

It was very big of Moraller-than-thou Jennifer to lower her standards enough, between her God shout-outs, to thank her director, openly-gay, damned-to-hell, Bill Condon, for directing this first-time amateur into an Oscar-winning performance. "Dear Bill, thank you so much. I'll think of you kindly in heaven, while you're burning in hell for all eternity."

The Oscar Show producers this year were clearly concerned that the show would run too short, and come in with oodles of time left over, so they helped to inflate the running time by including the overwhelmingly pointless little backstage segments with the charisma-challenged Chris Connelly (What can they have been thinking? Did he say one word that was worth bothering to hear?), and the odd, entertainment-free, living shadow-puppet bits, that must have spiked viewership in Indonesia and Thailand. How about cutting those idiotic time-wasters? Then the people being honored might not have to race through their teensy acceptance speeches.

Remember when James Taylor had long hair? Remember when James Taylor had hair? However, when the camera came in close, we saw that James does still have long hair. It's growing out of his left ear.

President Al Gore, and his constant, longtime companion Leo DiCaprio, gave a speech about something. I wish I could say what it was about, but President Gore’s dynamic oratory skills always send me straight to Dreamland. I know he said something about the Oscars "Going Green," but they always are, as the audience is always full of losing nominees, green with envy. But doesn’t the release of an evening’s worth of Hollywood Hot Air seriously contribute to global warming, especially when it’s broadcast worldwide?

Deep down in the canyon-like Kodak Theater, Melissa Etheridge was yodeling in the canyon once again. Openly-lesbian, damned-to-hell Melissa, won the Best Song Oscar over the numbers sung by God-fearing straight woman Jennifer Hudson. Yes Jenny, God hates fags, and gives them Oscars to show His loathing. Maybe that’s why He made so many of them marry me.

When An Inconvenient Truth became yet another documentary feature to take the gold for Best Song, it occurred to me that Melissa Etheridge was the perfect person to explain global warming to Faux-President Bush, as she has a great deal of oral experience with bush. I might add that, after last year’s incomprehensible win by It’s Hard Out Here For a Pimp, Melissa’s song I Need to Wake Up (A title she was inspired to write after chatting with President Gore.) was not expected to win, as it has a melody. How last century.

Every time Ellen returned to the stage I was surprised anew, as each time she left the stage, I instantly forgot she was hostessing. Forgettable, thy name is Ellen. The woman’s tepid humor never goes for a belly laugh, and never gets one. It’s like a baseball game in which every batter bunts. But she did change her clothes for almost every re-entrance. By the end of the show, she must have worn every outfit her brother owns. Ellen darling, what would be so terrible about wearing a lovely gown once in a while? You can still be a lesbian in a nice frock, you know. Claudette Colbert managed it for years.

William Monahan, screenwriter for The Departed, won the Oscar for Best Adapted Screenplay, apparently for writing "Two priests and a nun walk into a bar," which he adapted from original material by Henny Youngman. Monahan, showing a natural inability to edit himself, began his acceptance speech by re-inserting material he’d already cut, and then talking long enough to be among the very few winners to get the orchestra-drown-out. But he did look lovely in Eva Longoria’s hair.

The Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Tree-Hugger Award was presented to Mrs. William Friedkin. A nearly-lifesize Tom Cruise, in describing Mrs. Friedkin’s career, mentioned that she'd recently "Left show business," a lovely euphemism for "Was fired." Tommy himself recently left reality, a lovely euphemism for "Nuttier than a hundred snickers bars." All right, I admit that’s not really true. It wasn’t recently.

A note to the still-ecstatically beautiful Catherine Deneuve: if you’re going to present an Oscar the very next day, perhaps that’s not the best time to get your left breast pierced, although it looked quite fetching.

Let me understand this: Pan's Labyrinth won 3 Oscars. None of the other Best Foreign Language Film nominees had even one other nomination, let alone an Oscar, yet somehow Pan's Labyrinth is not the Best Foreign Language Film?

Why wasn’t Pan's Labyrinth nominated for Best Picture?

Why wasn’t Letters From Iwo Jima nominated for Best Foreign Language Film? Consistency, thy name is not Oscar.

Was Larry David working as a seat filler?

As part of it’s Oscar Sweep, An Inconvenient Truth also won Best Documentary. Here’s an Inconvenient Truth; President Gore is boring.

The wonderful musical genius Ennio Morricone was given an honorary lifetime achievement award. Oh no! I had no idea he was dying!

I was just falling asleep as Oscar entered it's 6th or 7th hour, when out trotted Huge Jackman. He always wakes me up! He should get an award: Hottest Man in Show Business. Huge darling, drop by Morehead Heights anytime. You won't have to jack, man.

Matthew Broderick’s personal assistant, Michael Arndt, won Best Original Screenplay, and kept his speech short, as Matthew needed a cappuccino. In his acceptance speech, he used the word "Funnest". There is no such word. It’s "Most Fun". It’s always encouraging to see a man who hasn't even mastered simple English grammar win an award for writing. It gives new hope to all the other illiterates out there with a screenplay they’ve knocked out between fetching their employer’s laundry and walking his dogs.

While Thelma Schoonmaker was accepting her award for editing The Departed, her director and friend Martin Scorsese was seen blubbering and wiping away tears. There’s only one possible explanation; he’d gotten bored with the show, let his mind wander, and was thinking about Anna Nicole Smith. That buxom cadaver reduces many a tough man to a sobbing child.

In thanking her co-stars and associates on The Queen, Helen Mirrin callously failed to mention the Corgi she worked with, even though he was on stage himself shortly thereafter. Now that poor, snubbed pooch is confirmed in his opinion that all women are bitches.

So, is it possible to play someone named Queen Elizabeth and not win an Oscar? Helen did, and 7 or 8 years ago, so did Sir Judi Dench, who stayed away this time, as she was afraid they would give her Oscar to Helen.

Let's see: we had a lesbian hostess, an Oscar to a lesbian song writer/performer, sexually ambiguous Sir Judi Dench nominated for playing a lesbian, and Helen Mirrin won for playing a big old queen. Getting the message, Jennifer Hudson? Maybe God hates fags, but the God of Hollywood is a Dykey Likey. If Brokeback Mountain had been about even cowgirls gettin' the blues, it would have won.

Forest Whitaker, in his acceptance speech, said that his being an actor arose from "My desire to connect with everyone." You know, my desire to connect with everyone is what made me a slut.

I realize that Idi Amin was a paranoid nutcase who would behead you for looking at him "Funny," and I know that Forest is one of those intense method actors who stay deeply in character at all times (Not my technique at all, except when playing whores.), so I assume that’s the reason no one ever had guts enough to tell him that Idi was never King of Scotland.

When Steven Spielberg, George Lucas, and Francis Ford Coppola came onstage together, was I the only one who thought they were going to sing Three Little Maids From School? So, do you think Steve, Francis, and Marty Scorsese were all rubbing George’s nose on their Oscars? When George asked why he’d never won an Oscar, someone should have suggested he watch The Godfather, Shindler's List and The Departed, and then take a good, hard look at Attack of the Clones.

Anyway, it was great to see Best Direction go to Marty, despite my love of the other nominees: West, North, and Up.

I was shocked to see the Best Picture Oscar being presented by Lex Luthor!

I adore Diane Keaton, but is she anorectic? I can't remember the last time I saw a woman whose hair was wider than her waist.

Finally, Lex announced that the Best Picture was The Departed, which, five minutes later, perfectly described the audience, who were sprinting for their cars, while I hit the wet bar.

My choice for Best Direction? The EXIT Signs!

Cheers darlings.


Sunday, February 25, 2007

A little Blog Love

We'd like to recognize some of the folks who buttered our toast this week with links back to our little blog. If we made a mistake and didn't get you on this list, we apologize, we're doing the best we can on an early Sunday morning.

1. Glitterati Gossip - As always, Your Mama is deeply appreciative of this gal. So please go read her lovely site for all the Hollywood tidbits.

2. Curbed LA - Our pals at Curbed are always so generous with their linkage. And of course, if you're not reading Curbed LA, then you're missing all the best real estate news about the City of Angels.

3. World of Wonder - This is one of Your Mama's favorite sites. Read it and weep that you're not that funny and clever.

4. Luxist - The website for all this fancy, snazzy and upscale. We love their Estate of the Day postings.

5. The Rat and Mouse - The London property blog.

6. Celebrity Houses Blog - These folks are doing a great job bringing the children some interesting tidbits.

7. Fresh Celebrity Gossip - These folks are new to us, but we thank them all the same.

8. PopCasa - A new site and new to Your Mama.

9. Suburbarazzi - All things related to the Lower Hudson Valley in New York.

10. CelebritySmack – More juicy tidbits on the Hollywood gossip

Saturday, February 24, 2007

The Neutra Nest of Jeffrey Levy-Hinte


SELLER: Jeffrey Levy-Hinte
LOCATION: 126 Mabery Road, Santa Monica, CA
PRICE: $6,995,000
SIZE: 2,959 square feet, 3 bedrooms, 3.5 bathrooms
DESCRIPTION: Architect Richard Neutra's Sten-Frenk Residence of 1934. Los Angles Historic Cultural Monument #647. International Style masterpiece on double lot in Santa Monica Canyon with ocean views. Incredible restoration of this world-class design, including sublime bright public rooms and master with sitting room and 2 other bedrooms. Gorgeous lawns and large pool.

YOUR MAMAS NOTES: Ooo-wee children, Your Mama loves us some Neutra. One look at the photographs and Your Mama is ready to clean out the Dr. Cooter's bank accounts, pack our bags, and move right into this clean lined house designed by famed California architect Richard Neutra.

Now all you trendy design queens shut your bitchy little traps. Your Mama knows the design world has moved past the trend for both International and mid-century modern styles and is happily wallowing around in the glam Hollywood Regency style, but that does not mean we can't still appreciate and covet a Neutra.

Built in 1934 for actress Anna Sten, the Sten-Frenk house is currently owned by Jeffrey Levy-Hinte and his wife Jeanne. Now children, we understand you may not recognize this man's name, so Your Mama is going to give you the 411. If you live anywhere near Los Angeles you already know Mr. Levy-Hinte is one of the more successful independent film producers working in Hollywood. A very short list of some of the films he has produced include the 2004 adaptation of Scott Heim's novel Mysterious Skin and 2003's Thirteen, that movie with Holly Hunter about that fucked up teenage girl who Your Mama thinks needed the stupid slapped out of her.

But it's Lisa Cholodenko (who Your Mama happens to be friendly with) and her film Laurel Canyon that brought Levy-Hinte to the Sten-Frank house. See babies, that film was largely shot on location at this house. Not long after the filming wrapped, Levy-Hinte purchased the property for around $3,00,000 and soon embarked on what has been reported to be a $4,500,000 re-build and restoration headed by the glittering architectural firm Marmol and Radziner.

The property, graced by ocean breezes and slivers of ocean views, consists of two lots at the mouth of Santa Monica canyon that are so close to the ocean you can hear the waves crashing from the bedroom windows...that is if there's not too much traffic on the Pacific Coast Highway.

The sensitive re-do and the sublime interiors have Your Mama's mind working overtime trying to imagine our dachshund bitches Linda and Beverly laid up in front of that fireplace and stretched out on the lawn in the sunshine. There's little Your Mama likes more than a row of bare windows, so all the children know we are most appreciative of the ribbon windows and their absence of window treatments makes us tingle inside.

The house was first put up for sale for in early 2006 for $8,000,000 and the price has steadily been whittled to it's current asking price of $6,995,000.

If you ask Your mama, and of course no one did, the location of this property at the mouth of Santa Monica Canyon can not be beat. But it seems buyers are turned off by the 10 story apartment building (101 Ocean Avenue) that towers over the property and keeps the house and most of the yard, including the pool, shaded until after 12 noon. Even still Your Mama is quite surprised this ridiculously cool and sexy house has had a difficult time finding a buyer, particularly in the blazing high end market in Los Angeles.

Sources: Real Estate Journal, Office for Word and Image,

More Posh and Becks Real Estate Nonsense

Oh dear Lawhd children, will her search ever end?

Multiple reports last week stated The Spice Gurl had wrapped up her latest whirlwind tour of posh properties, left Los Angeles, and returned to Britain or Madrid or some other place.

However, Your Mama was contacted this afternoon by a shockingly well connected tipster in Los Angeles who tells us The Spice Gurl is in fact still in Los Angeles and hassling all the high end Beverly Hills agents to show her even more properties.

Our tipster alls tells Your Mama The Spice Gurl has dumped Barry Peele, the agent she was working with at Sotheby's, and has begun working with Joseph Babajian over at Prudential CA John Aaroe.

We also understand she looked at the Wendy Finerman house up on N. Faring Road in the Holmby Hills today.

Thursday, February 22, 2007

Reed Krakoff's NEW Hamptons Estate

BUYER: Reed and Delphine Krakoff
LOCATION: 121 Further Lane, East Hampton, NY
PRICE: $24,000,000 (sale price)
SIZE: 6.4 acres, 8,500 square feet, 6 bedrooms, 5.4 bathrooms
DESCRIPTION: Designed by architect Arthur Jackson and built in 1917, Lasata, or "place of peace," is universally recognized as one of the most beautiful homes in America. Situated on 6.4 acres, the unique estate property captures the eye with its graceful lines and understated presence. Summer home to the Bouvier family through the 1920s, the residence has anchored the lives of only a small handful of owners over the last 85 years. The opportunity to become part of Lasata's history now presents itself.

YOUR MAMAS NOTES: As was first reported in Braden Keil's Gimme Shelter column in the NY Post, Reed Krakoff, the president and creative director of the leather accessories company Coach, and his interior designer wife Delphine have purchased Lasata, one of East Hampton's most fabled and coveted estates. The also price is said to be $24,000,000.

The purchase of this property has been widely covered on websites and blogs including Your Mama's pals over at Luxist. However, since Your Mama previously discussed the Krakoff's former summer home on Great Plains Road in Southampton (which remains for sale with a hefty price tag of $12,000,000) and also the Krakoff's recently sold townhouse on East 61st Street, we felt it would be remiss not to post photographs and additional information for the children on their new summer residence.

The Brown Harris Stevens listing shows the property at 6.4 acres. However Braden Keil reports the Krakoff's new digs encompass 11 acres. Not sure why the discrepancy. However, not in dispute is that Lasata once belonged to the paternal grandparents of Jackie Kennedy Onassis. It is widely known and reported that Jackie-O spent many a childhood summer at this huge estate.

Other Further Lane residents include big-time gallerist Larry Gagosian and semi-retired comedian Jerry Seinfeld who purchased his vast ocean front estate from Billy Joel and proceeded to add a softball diamond at the front of the property. Hippity Hop clothing designer Tommy Hilfilger purchased an ocean front property on Further Lane in the Spring of 2006 for $17,000,000, turned the place into a Balinese freak out, and put it back on the market for $24,500,000. Your Mama discussed this property here.

The most expensive property to sell in the Hamptons in 2006, located at 408 Further Lane, transferred at the astronomical price of $43,000,000. That's just a little pocket change if there's any truth the the oft reported rumor that Adelaide de Menil Carpenter recently sold her 40 acre ocean front property to Swedish financier turned art patron Robert Weil for the mind numbing price of $90,000,000.

As can be seen in the photographs, the current decor of the mansion is frumpy and dated. However, we expect with the Krakoff's keen design sensibilities and a few million dollars, Lasata will be transformed into one of the Hampton's most design savvy estates.

Sources: Brown Harris Stevens, NY Post, New York Magazine, Forbes

The Ed McMahon Mansion

SELLER: Ed and Pam McMahon
LOCATION: 12000 Crest Court, Beverly Hills, CA
PRICE: $4,600,000 (reduced from $6,750,000)
SIZE: 7,013 square feet, 6 bedrooms, 5 bathrooms
DESCRIPTION: Ed McMahon's private Mediterranean Estate, in the Prestigious Beverly Hills Gated Community, The Summit, can be yours. This once in a lifetime offering is full of charm and character. The foreign imported doors and meticulously chosen fireplaces are unlike any other. The Master Suite with his and hers baths and closets, overlooks the yard and sweeping canyon.

YOUR MAMAS NOTES: Your Mama apologizes in advance for hating on this house, but we find it to be just so damned ugly. Mediterranean? Please. The listing agent at Hilton & Hyland says the house is Mediterranean, but Your Mama is not seeing it. The facade of this house looks more like something we would expect to find up in one of the better neighborhoods of Beirut or Riyadh. But instead, this beast is located just inside the gates of Beverly Hills' The Summit where it overlooks Coldwater Canyon and busy Mulholland Drive.

All the celebrity real estate hounds will recognize The Summit as the very same gated community where Gavin Rossdale and Gwen Stefani live in a double gated $15,000,000 extravaganza, and of course, also where the bald and troubled Britney Spears is flipping her most recent real estate purchase.

For nearly 30 years Ed McMahon was Johnny Carson's bitch on the Tonight Show. His only responsibilities seemed to be shrieking, "Heeeeeere's Johnny!" at the start of the show and then sitting off to the side guffawing at and agreeing with whatever Johnny said. For this he was no doubt paid handsomely, but Your Mama imagines this would not be the most stimulating job in the world. Fortunately, McMahon had plenty of moonlighting gigs such as hosting Star Search in the 1980s and 90s and working as the pitch man for the Publishers Clearinghouse sweepstakes. Unfortunately, these don't sound like the most stimulating jobs either.

None the less, mostly due to savvy real estate investments and partnerships, the octogenarian has long been considered to be one of the richer men in Hollywood. As one of the largest landlords in Malibu, some reports state his net worth hovers around $200,000,000. Not bad for a man who began his career as a bingo caller and carnival barker.

After a pipe burst in July of 2001 and flooded the den of McMahon mansion, toxic mold was discovered. Soon it had spread through the heating and air conditioning ducts contaminating everything in it's path. A heated battle with the insurance company ensued and eventually, after much wrangling, the McMahons were awarded $7,200,000 to gut and rebuild the interior of the home. Your Mama is certainly glad the McMahons were able to get the mold situation under control and their house rebuilt. But we do question some of the aesthetic choices that were made in the process.

Who know Ed McMahon had such "interesting" and eclectic taste in home decor? Or does all this reflect the taste of McMahon's third wife Pam? We can appreciate the leopard print club chairs in the living room, but that perverse horse figurine on the floor upsets Your Mama greatly. We see these horse things up in rich people's houses all the time and we would like to know who is perpetrating the presence of this sort of visual vomit. Who? If we knew who you were, we'd slap you upside the head and make you swear on your mama's life not to put these equine pieces of shit up in people's houses anymore.

We can understand and appreciate comfortable seating for screening movies and watching that hi-larious program Top Design on the Bravo. But Your Mama can not tolerate a Lazy-Boy recliner. Ever. Not even, as it is here at the McMahon mansion, if it is upholstered in the same buttery brown leather as the alarmingly large sectional sofa.

(On a side note, are the children watching Top Design on the Bravo? If not, you should. The show itself is fun enough, but the reason we watch is to see in what sort of outfit and hair-don't the famed and extremely talented interior designer Kelly Wearstler will swan around. Last night we were treated to a knee length beaded gown and an astonishing crimped situation up on her head. This gorgeous bitch looked like she stuck her hand right up in a light socket.)

Anyhoo, if the children look close at the photos, you'll note the McMahons have curiously chosen to eliminate molding. Could this be because after their terrific troubles with toxic mold, they don't feel comfortable having any item with the word "mold" in the house? Your Mama isn't always a huge fan of moldings ourselves, but some architectural styles do indeed require them to appear finished. And if you're going to be calling your mansion Mediterranean, you better have some big ass moldings up at the ceiling and down on the floor.

Out in the back yard we are absolutely mortified by the cheap and dangerous looking jungle gym. Your Mama feels that if you are worth anywhere near $200,000,000 you should provide the grand kiddies a more substantial and stable jungle gym. Additionally, because this back yard hangs over Mulholland Drive, Your Mama is concerned the children's ears could be damaged from the excessive road noise. We can only hope the McMahons keep a bowl of ear plugs next to the French doors to the backyard.

The listing agent over at Hilton & Hyland has provided an extensive virtual tour that will be available online until the house sells.

Sources: Hilton & Hyland, Comedy Zone, Hazardous Materials Assessment, Inc., Robertson & Vick