Nicole Kidman Selling Off Sydney House

SELLER: Nicole Kidman
LOCATION: Yarranabbé Road, Darling Point, Sydney, Australia
PRICE: approx. $20,000,000 (AUS)
SIZE: Hmm. Don't Know Actually
DESCRIPTION: Not Yet.

YOUR MAMAS NOTES: Thanks to not one, not two, but three snitches in Sydney, Your Mama has learned that the preggers but still pin thin actress Nicole Kidman is finally selling the Australian love nest she purchased in 1995 while married to that mystifying and minikin Tom Crooz dood.

The porcelain skinned Miz Kidman has since moved on to bigger and better things than Tom Crooz including an Academy Award (The Hours)–something Mister Crooz has yet to achieve, upsettingly large new lips and another diminutive huzband, this time country music super star Keith Urban.

Your Mama hasn't a clue how to look up Australian property records, so we can only relay what has already been reported about the Yarranabbé Road property that overlooks the soo-blime Sydney Harbor. Miz Kidman's contemporary crib appears to be a three story affair with almost no yard or grass. The story goes that she and Mister Crooz purchased half of their former conjugal casa in 1995 for a reported $4,200,000 Australian dollars, which Your Mama's bejeweled abacus tell us converts to $4,013,302 at today's rates. In 1998, the then couple reportedly forked over another $4,750,000 ($4,583,853 US) for the other half of the duplex. There are apparently eight bedrooms between the two halves, which we Your Mama can only hope Miz Kidman had the good sense to hire a skilled architect and nice gay decorator to smoothly combine into one large superstar style residence.

As of this morning we have been unable to locate a listing for the hillside property, but all reports from Down Under reveal the Darling Point duplex measures 1,068 square meters. Being mired in antiquated and xenophobic American measurement paradigms, Your Mama had to consult a mathematics expert to figure out that 1,068 square meters translates into a rather large (and approximate) 11,496 square feet. For a ladee who marries little men, she's a bit of a real estate size queen, ain't she?

We first heard that Miz Kidman was looking to fetch around $18,000,000 AUS and later we read $20,000,000 AUS. Not that the U.S. dollar currently amounts much on the world monetary stage, but once again our bejeweled abacus informs us that converts to $17,199,864-$19,110,960 in the good ol' U-nited States.

It's reported that Miz Kidman and Mister Urban are looking for a new Australian nest in the Eastern Suburbs so their soon to be born baby will have more outdoor space on which to run around and wreak toddler havoc.

Miz Kidman an Mister Urban have been on a real estate whirlwind lately. It's been reported that she sold off a Walsh Bay penthouse in December of 2007 for $4,650,000 AUS. The couple also recently sold off their big and banal house on Bancroft Place in suburban Nashville for $2,360,000 and are reported to be building a new one on a 36 acre spread on Old Hillsboro Road in the nearby Franklin, TN area. And of course, there are always rumors running lickety split up and down Sunset Boulevard that the pale skinned red-head is looking for new Los Angeles digs so that she can be closer to the two children she (sorta kinda) shares with Tom Crooz. But as far as Your Mama and our spider web of contacts can suss out, she's not purchased anything...yet.

Your Mama also read that the peripatetic Miz Kidman has also put a beach front property on the NSW far South Coast on the market for around $4,000,000 AUS.

photo: Fiona-Lee Quimby for Sydney Morning Herald

Jenni Lee's Office Fling

Her name is Jenni Lee, and she is a skinny, sexy and an exotic woman that has the most perfect tits I’ve ever seen. So I started talking to her just to get to know a little about her personality. But honestly I didn’t care about anything she was saying. I just wanted to look at her naked. So I told her to take all her clothes off and to give me a little striptease. From there I couldn’t resist her and we started fucking. I fucked her ass so good that she was moaning like I’ve never heard before.

Free Download Link

Phillip Bloch Double Whammy / Los Angeles

SELLER: Phillip Bloch
LOCATION: Hollywood Boulevard, Los Angeles, CA
SIZE: 1,500 square feet (approx.), 2 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms
PRICE: $629,000
DESCRIPTION:R E D U C E D...NOTE H U G E (approx. 1500 square footage) 2 BR/2 BA corner unit. Light & bright w/AMAZING DOWNTOWN VIEWS from balcony, both BR & kitch; & CITY VIEWS. Unit is located on QUIET BACKSIDE of building & is very PRIVATE w/HUGE usable balcony, over sized LR w/den area, hardwood floors & wet-bar. Each BR w/walk-in closets & Mstr ste w/two add'l closets. Mstr BA w/window & spa tub. SxS parking & extra storage in garage. Laundry hook-ups

YOUR MAMAS NOTES: While celebrity super-stylist Phillip Bloch may have an uncanny and innate knack for knowing who should wear what, when and to where, Your Mama thinks the man might have a chip missing when it comes to real estate and interior day-core. Earlier today we discussed the hot mess of a Manhattan co-op that Mister Bloch has on the market for $1,500,000, and in the course of our "research" we also learned that the hat wearing and hair challenged purveyor of panache is also looking to unload his less than perfect west coast crib.

Property records show that the bizzy bi-coastal stylist to the stars purchased his Los Angeles condominium, located on a the residential west end of Hollywood Boulevard, in January of 2001. Your Mama recommends the children hold on to their wigs and britches when we tell them that records reveal Mister Bloch paid just $255,000 (gasps heard up and down Sunset and Hollywood Boulevards) for the 2 bedroom and 2 bathroom condo with lovely views down palm lined N. Sierra Bonita Avenue and over West Hollywood. Mister Bloch's building may be ass-uglee (trust Your Mama, we looked it up) and the kitchen and bathrooms in dire need of a re-do, but remember the good ol' days when living in Los Angeles was a real estate bargain compared to the other historically ungodly expensive major American cities like New York and San Francisco?

Listing information shows the current asking price has been reduced to $629,000 and for that number a buyer gets a genuinely large living room with den area, a "HUGE usable balcony" (with an eye popping and disturbing tile issue), a wet bar for all the booze hounds, laundry hook ups (an excellent feature) and side by side parking (another excellent and desirable feature).

Here's the thing kids. Your Mama suspects Mister Bloch, who has clearly moved out, perpetrated all sorts of upsetting interior design crimes on this place when he was in residence and we certainly understand that most people not familiar with Los Angeles can't fathom why anyone in LaLa Land would willingly live in an apartment rather than a house; Answer: cost, maintenance, security.

Despite being located in a considerably less than attractive building that looks like something built in Warsaw circa 1982, Your Mama is of the mind that the apartment itself, with the help of a nice gay decorator and a skilled contractor, could be wrested from it's current sad state of affairs and be a comfortable and affordable Hollywood hideaway. Because let's be honest kids, not every celeb or demi-celeb in Los Angeles can afford a massive multi-million dollar mansion or, quite frankly, even qualify for a sweet and modest Spanish style casa which could easily be well over a million clams in L.A. So here are eight reasons why Your Mama thinks this condo could work for a budget conscious buyer:

1. Size: It won't work for all the real estate size queens out there, but at (approx.) 1,500 square feet this is a generously sized 2 bedroom apartment with large living spaces.
2. Location: Hollywood Boulevard is not every one's cup of real estate tea, but the central location makes for easy access to most parts of Tinseltown.
3. Balcony: Yes children, we know the tile is a real and serious problem but, all things considered, this is a good sized terrace with just enough space to dine, lounge and give the illusion of indoor/outdoor living.
4. View: Living above the roof tops with a long view is, as Miz Martha Stewart says, a good thing. Your Mama thinks the palm trees are a pleasingly campy visual reminder of place.
5. Parking: Two cars, side by side. 'Nuff said.
6. Kitchen: The tile is terribly dated and the cabinets inexcusably putrid, but do you see the window? Do y'all know how many apartments do not have windows in the kitchen?
7. Bathrooms: There are two, which means the owner(s) can poop in private when there are guests.
8. Light: The unit is south facing for maximum sunlight harnessing.

Your Mama hasn't a clue where Mister Bloch intends to live once he sells both his east and west coast residences, but if he would like a little assistance selecting a new home and new day-core appropriate to his style station, we'd be happy to help. Seriously, call Your Mama Mister Bloch. We're eager to help you settle you into a new crib that represents your vaunted position in the fashion and style world.

Phillip Bloch Double Whammy / New York City

SELLER: Phillip Bloch
LOCATION: West 14th Street, New York, NY
PRICE: $1,500,000 (monthly maintenance / $1,282)
SIZE: 1,400 square feet (approx.), 3 bedrooms, 1 bathroom
DESCRIPTION: ...Currently a 1,400-square-foot...Personality abounds throughout this historic residence, which features abundant natural light from three exposures; views which include the twin brownstone steeples of designated landmark St. Bernard's Church, lush treetops to the south, and quiet neighboring gardens to the north; moldings, paneling and pass a through window; original ornate parquet floors; two lavishly detailed fireplaces; tin ceilings; a vintage oversized double sink in the kitchen; and a claw foot tub in the bath.

YOUR MAMAS NOTES: Yesterday Mister Braden Keil at the New York Post wrote in his always entertaining and informative Gimme Shelter column that forty-something fashion fanatic and thin-mustachioed stylist to the stars Phillip Bloch put his modest Manhattan garret on the market for $1,500,000.

Your Mama realizes that only the fashionista few are likely to know who Mister Bloch is, how he earns his paper or what makes him worthy of being discussed on a blog about celebrity real estate. Like only a few other lucky clothing cognoscente–such as the increasingly gender ambiguous Steven Cojocaru and the toothpick thin Rachel Zoe–Mister Bloch has managed to parlay his eye for sartorial style into a seriously successful career selecting high priced designer duds for famous folks like Salma Hayek, Halle Berry, John Travolta, Drew Barrymore and Will and Jada Pinkett Smith...to name just a few. Mister Bloch is more than just a glorified shop gurl though. That's right children, he also acts, writes, sold a bunch of shit on QVC, and appears regularly on dozens of television talk shows handing out snappy and sassy advice on fashion trends and Hollywood-style beauty. Like it or not, all that media exposure has turned Mister Bloch into a minor celebrity in his own right.

Property records show that Mister Bloch purchased his fourth floor (or is it fifth floor?) walk up on West 14th Street in July of 2007 for $1,150,000. Listing information indicates that the full floor flat measures around 1,400 square feet and includes 3 bedrooms and 1 bathroom with a claw foot tub. The floor plan indicates this might have originally been configured as two 1-bedroom units that were merged into a single railroad style number that stretches from the front to the back of the building. The good news is that Mister Bloch's apartment has good square footage, windows on three sides, piles of possibility and the purchase price includes roof rights...an excellent and valuable bonus to a buyer looking to expand. The bad news is the place is at best, uhm, really rough around the edges and at worst, appears in need of a may-jer renovation.

Never would Your Mama have imagined this apartment to be the home of one of the most in demand celebrity stylists in the country. Had we to guess, we'd have crossed our heart and hoped to die that this place belonged to a washed up theater queen with a clothing fetish and maxed out credit cards who recently and half heartedly took up studying Eastern mysticism and Bikram yoga to help him cope with all the anxiety and self loathing that results from 25+ years of failed auditions. But it ain't. It really is the home of a noted, talented and well compensated clothing consultant.

Mister Keil reports that Mister Bloch decided to sell his New York City "penthouse" because he didn't have time for the (much needed) renovation. Well, that may be true because Mister Bloch is indeed a blisteringly bizzy swami of style. However, Your Mama has a hard time believing that Miss Thing didn't have time to rip those dee-pressing purple and burgandy sheets off the bed or remove those crappy curtains before the real estate agent came over with a damn camera looking to ask $350,000 more than was paid for the place less than a year ago. Pleeze.

But the linens are really the least of the day-core drama, aren't they? Do we even need to point out that pitiful patio furniture masquerading as some sort of sorry dining room table? Do we need to dwell on whatever precarious and puny thing that is sitting out in the middle of the living room desperately trying (and failing) to be a coffee table? No, we don't. We will, however, discuss Mister Bloch's pitiful and inexcusable lighting situation. Naked overhead bulbs and cheep-ass Home Despot ceiling fixtures? Oh no you did not Phillip. You of all people should know the necessity of a good lighting plan. There is really no excuse Miss Bloch. Your Mama knows full well that you could have sent your assistant in long black Town Car to Target or Ikea or the damn flea market for pick up a few floor and table lamps.

We do recognize that this is just an East Coast crash pad for Mister Bloch's bi-coastal lifestyle, but as that fierce, ferocious and funny little fashion designer Christian Siriano would say, this place is a hot mess. Your Mama is seriously surprised that a man who can perfectly match a Bulgari bauble with a Tori Burch tunic and who can perfectly pair a high fallutin' Louboutin with a Diane von Furstenberg dress did not have the good sense to beg one of his nice gay decorator friends (and we know you must have one or two Miss Bloch) to come over with a garbage bag and deft helping hand. Despite the many and myriad of punishable interior design crimes, Your Mama does always like to say something nice about the properties we discuss and we can honestly say that we adore the fastidious manner in which Mister Bloch has carefully hung his belts on the wall and color-coordinated his shirts on the rolling rack in the make-shift dressing room.

Other than that, we are through here. Next up, Mister Bloch's west coast condominium, which he also has up for sale. Stay tuned.

111

I will keep this brief as I have to get to my birthday party. This is not my 111th flogging. Missed it by that much, as Steve Carell will be shortly saying. This is my 110th flogging, but it's my 111th Birthday. Yes, I am officially eleventy-one. Yet everyone is telling me I don't look a day over 97. And for my party? Well more on that in a moment. Here's a picture of last year's 110th celabation, with my ex-husband Boris burying the hatchet --- in my rum cake. Timid little Dougie looks a bit alarmed by Boris. Something about his having died back in 1969. Honestly, the whole point of the role Boris is best known for playing is being resurrected from the dead. Butch up Dougie.

I know you're all stumped by what to get me for a present. What do you get for the woman who has everything? Well here's a few gift suggestions.

Of course I am synonymous with the movies. Someone named Duncan just sent me a photo he snapped this evening of the marquee of the Hemet Theater in Downtown Hemet, California, the place where they stage The Ramona Pageant every year for no known reason. I can't think why he wants me to see the marquee. You couldn't drag me into seeing Horton Hears Doctor Who, and I can't remember who Sarah Marshall even is.

Wait a minute! What does it say there in between the two features? Let's take a closer look.

What the hell? Are they kidding me? What has happened to values in America?


Three dollars to get in? Are they serious?


My gracious, talk about cheap! And what's that below the price? Oh my God! That's not how you spell "Tallulah Morehead"! In fact, that's --- that's Little Dougie's name! What is that doing there?


Oh sure, it is Dougie's birthday today also. He's 58, barely out of diapers. Actually, given what his health is like, he's nearly back into diapers. The only reason I even let him on my sofa is because the frequent vodka spills disinfects it. At almost half my age, most people think he's the older one. The man bats with overcooked spaghetti, although he still sees himself like this:

What would Little Dougie like for his birthday? Well he likes to travel. He particularly enjoys Europe. How about Paris. He'd love a chance to once again mount The Eiffel Tower, and vice versa. (And Dougie prefers his vice versa.)



Yes, he'd love to have what's in that picture for his natal commemoration. You know, if you take The Eiffel Tower, turn it on it's side, and insert it through The Arc D'Triomph, then Paris is fucked.


Even more than Paris, Dougie loves London. He'd be your pal forever if you'd help him once again thrill to Big Ben. This is Ben himself. My, doesn't he have a big clock? Hey kids, what time is it? It's How'd He Do Me Time! (If you get that gag, you're over 50.)



As you can see from this psychic photo I snapped when Dougie and I were doing a bookstore signing of my beliked autobiography My Lush Life, there's always just one thing on Dougie's alleged mind.



Well, there's no help for it. Little Dougie and I happen to have, by a complete coincidence, the same birthday, so we have no choice but to celabate them together.


We are, however, receiving a lovely gift from ABC, for tonight they are giving us the three-hour season 4 finale of LOST, our current favorite show. (Though we are both very fond of Doctor Who as well.) Normally a TV network would want such a sure fire ratings giant as the LOST season finale to air during May sweeps. So why did ABC hold LOST back to today? So it would be a birthday present for Dougie and me, well, mostly me. Actually, entirely for me. Dougie is just tagging along, hoping Sawyer gets too drunk to notice Dougie's a guy.


So what can we expect to see on LOST tonight? Deaths? Twists? Freighter psychos running amok? A Bekins moving van hauling The Island to somewhere else? Yes, but [SPOILER ALERT!] also, my surprise birthday party! (Little Dougie too.) And for the highlight of the party, I take on five of The Oceanic Six! (Well baby Aaron is just too young. And I'm not really sure about doing Hurley again either. The last time I did him, I lost my keys in a flab fold.) Normally I want at least 8 or more, but given that it's my lovely LOST, I'm willing to settle for five, particularly since one of them is Sayid. Mmmmm. That hot Iraqi can torture me anytime!

Now if you'll excuse me, I want to swallow some of my cake. I understand that, in honor of my being 111, my cake's Italian creme filling is going to slip me 11!

Cheers darlings.

Sierra Towers Sell Off

SELLER: Matthew Perry
LOCATION: Doheny Road, West Hollywood, CA
PRICE: $4,500,000
SIZE: 1,672 square feet, 2 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms (per assessor)
DESCRIPTION: None.

YOUR MAMAS NOTES: Former Friend and well known ladee luver and leaver Matthew Perry–currently linked to former gurly gal pal Lauren Graham–has been on a bit of a real estate whirligig lately. In April of 2008 he forked over $4,475,000 for a recently rehabbed contemporary confection on Carman Crest Drive, and yesterday Your Mama managed to suss out that the one-time a-list actor has put his 22nd floor unit at the celebrity packed Sierra Towers building on West Hollywood's Doheny Road on the market with an impressive $4,500,000 asking price.

Property records show Mister Perry bought his south and east facing corner unit in April 2005 for an undisclosed sum of money. Listing information does not provide any details on the size of the unit or the number of bedrooms and bathrooms so Your Mama will defer to the Los Angeles County tax man (or woman) who measures the condo at 1,672 square feet with 2 bedrooms and 2.5 bathrooms.

From the one photo Your Mama was able to locate that shows Mister Perry's interior day-core, it appears that he had the good sense to hire a nice gay decorator who did his digs up with a minimal amount of clean lined and contemporary furniture...all the better to keep the focus on the magnificent view which on a clear day stretches all the way to the Pacific Ocean. We're a little disappointed at the lack of color we see in the large living and dining room, however, we're thrilled to see the floor to ceiling windows free of fussy fabrics and Your Mama always appreciates a chunky picnic style dining room table, even if it is a little passé design wise.

Times have certainly changed at the Sierra Towers, haven't they children? Only a few years ago one of these condos with a big view could be scooped up for a million clams or less. Then the Los Angeles real estate market went utterly berserk and the modestly sized glass walled units started selling like hotcakes for between two and three million dollars. Nowadays they're priced as stunningly high as a house in the hills with a swimming pool, a grass patch and a spectacular view.

In fact, a 20th floor unit with just 1 bedroom and 2 bathrooms is currently listed at $5,500,000 and mega-rich bizness man and property maven Peter Morton recently listed an 8th floor unit he purchased in January of 2007 for $3,500,000, and also with just 1 bedroom and 2 bathrooms, for $3,950,000.

All the children know by now that the Sierra Towers, a building Your Mama's sensationally sassy amigo Kenny Kissentell refers to as "The Greys and Gays" due to it's large contingent of old and/or homosexual residents, is littered with big name rich and famous folks: Wickedly well preserved actress Dihann Carol calls the tall tower home; In early 2006 Cher dumped $4,500,000 on a 1 bedroom pied a terre once owned by music mogul (and former beau) David Geffen; Elton John and huzband David Furnish recently snapped up a 20th floor fixer for $2,497,000; And let's not forget ageless actress and geriatric jet setter Joan Collins who recently scooped up a 27th floor unit she shares with her much younger boytoy huzband Percy Gibson.

Other current and former famous residents include (but are not limited to) Oscar winning actor Sydney Poitier, freakishly endowed actor and architecture buff Vincent Gallo, chick rocker PJ Harvey, real estate fanatic Fred Durst, and of course Little Lindsay Lohan owned a place here before her once electric career took a tumble. Your Mama imagines the struggling young ack-tur-ess (and rumored to be budding lezbeeun) wishes she held on to her 3 bedroom unit because Your Mama hears from multiple and well placed sources that she's spending what little money she has left paying someone else's mortgage by renting a house up on Ozeta Terrace.

Anyhoo, back to Mister Perry...Property records reveal that in addition to his new house in the Outpost Estates, he continues to own the 3,677 square foot ocean view house on Malee-boo's swanky Sweetwater Mesa Road that he purchased in April of 2005 for $6,550,000.

Given that Mister Perry's unit is fully renovated (or at least it appears to be) and well located on a high floor, Your Mama imagines he'll easily nab a buyer willing to pay big bucks to live in the lap of apartment luxury in West Hollywood. The question is will they pay more than $4,000,000 for the place? What do the children think?

Where Scarlett Johansson Lays Her Head

BUYER: Scarlett Johansson
LOCATION: East 53rd Street, New York, NY
PRICE: $2,100,000
SIZE: 1,270 square feet, 2 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms
DESCRIPTION: Triple Mint Penthouse designed by architect/owner with the most discriminating taste! Elegant & simple with clean lines, top of line finishes and extraordinary chef's kitchen. In addition, both bathrooms are exceptionally renovated with stone and wood. The terrace s large and beautifully landscaped and features open city views. Additionally, there is a lovely greenhouse off the bedroom. Superb closets & much more!

YOUR MAMAS NOTES: Blond, bee-yoot-ee-full and bee stung lipped ack-tress Scarlett Johansson has been keeping her publicists bizzy as beavers lately. Not only did the buxom babe recently release a mostly well received album of Tom Waits covers (Anywhere I Lay My Head), she's got several films to promote and she's now speaking publicly about her betrothal to Canadian-born beau-hunk ack-tor (and Alanis Morrisette ex-fiancé) Ryan Reynolds. On top of all that she's been keeping the real estate gossips on their toes as well.

Although property records reveal that Miss Johansson still owns a 5th floor condominium at the Hollywood Versailles apartment tower in West Hollywood that she bought back in June of 2003 for $373,000, the 4-time Golden Globe nom-a-nee (always a bridesmaid...) spent $7,000,000 in May of 2007 for a 7 bedroom and 7 bathroom Mediterranean mini-manse on Senalda Road in the hills above Hollywood. About the same time all the gossips whispered and reported that Miss Johansson was on the prowl for a Manhattan penthouse because her New York neighbors were constantly complaining that her incessant cigarette smoking was a serious drag.

Fast forward to April of 2008 when Mister Max Abelson, who skillfully pens the New York Observer's Manhattan Transfers column, revealed that young Miss Johansson did what virtually no other New Yorker has done for many years...beehawtcha sold her TriBeCa loft at 66 Leonard Street for $52,000 less than the $1,950,000 she paid for the place in January of 2006. Less! Who does that in New York City? Someone in a hurry to unload a place, that's who.

Today Mister Abelson continues his ScarJo scoopage and reports that all signs point towards Miss Johansson forking over $2,100,000 for a 2 bedroom and 2 bathroom penthouse pied a terre in a non-descript full service post-war building on Midtown Manhattan's East 53rd Street. Although Miss Johansson's name does not appear on the deed, the purchasing trust is operated by her mother and shows a billing address in Hollywood identical to the one that appears on the deed for her old apartment on Leonard Street. So while we can't say that Miss Johansson is the buyer with 100% certitude, where there's real estate smoke, there's often fire, you know what we're sayin'?

According to listing information, the apartment measures 1,270 square feet and was designed an renovated by it's previous architect owner. The interiors are all creamy beige and chocolate brown with Carrara marble counter tops. All very smart and pulled together if a little lacking in color for our taste. And P.S. that gold framed mirror in the dining room isn't working.

What we do like is the terrace off the living room which makes a perfect spot for whittling away long afternoons with a pitcher of gin and tonics and a stack of gossip glossies and later gazing at the glittering lights of the city. We imagine Miss Johansson will find it an excellent spot to quietly contemplate her success and suck down a cigarette or four or five, hopefully without her neighbors fretting over the effects of second hand smoke.

Listing information also indicates that there is a "lovely greenhouse" located off the master bedroom. This might sound like a nice feature to someone who has ever had the misfortune or extreme discomfort to sit in one of these all-glass hot boxes on a sticky hot August day. Listen puppies, you can air condition the shit out of these "greenhouses" and you can put up shades that thwart the stinging rays of the blistering sun, but they're still glass boxes that heat up like a damn oven in the summer and rarely climb to above cool on the thermostat in the winter. Your Mama says no thank you to terraces converted to "greenhouses." The only people Your Mama knows who actually appreciate their Manhattan "greenhouses" are people who own snakes and/or grow their own ganja. We don't know if Miss Johansson has an affinity for either of those things but if she doesn't Your Mama imagines that "greenhouse" will be nuthin' more than wasted square footage where she'll stash all the free shit celebrities are sent by designers desperate to have their stuff on photographed on famous folks.

Only time will tell if the soon to be Mrs. Reynolds will keep this modest Manhattan hideaway or if she and the huzband will soon be looking for a larger and more family friendly crib.

Kenny Rogers Folding in Buckhead

SELLER: Kenny Rogers
LOCATION: Valley Road NW, Atlanta, GA
PRICE: $7,795,000 (furnishings included)
SIZE: 9,000 square feet (est. and approx.), 6 bedrooms, 6.5 bathrooms
DESCRIPTION: Absolutely spectacular home has been painstakingly renovated from top to bottom by owner Kenny Rogers. Wonderful layout, splendid finishes and materials throughout. Comfortable yet so elegant, this home is being offered complete with furnishings. Unbelievable landscape front to back. Elevator, pool.

YOUR MAMAS NOTES: Since it's already been discussed in the Wall Street Journal, The Atlanta Journal Constitution, and of course by the always on top of things Mister Big Time, Your Mama is obviously arriving way late to the rodeo on this wee bit of celebrity real estate gossip. But we couldn't resist. See children, Your Mama grew up on a musical diet of legendary country crooner Kenny Rogers who recently foisted his "Italian-style" suburban Atlanta mansion on to the market with an asking price of $7,950,000, furniture included.

Your Mama couldn't even begin count the number of times we sped around riding in the cubby of Big Daddy's Corvette Stingray with Sister Woman in the passenger seat and Kenny Rogers giving us gambling lessons from a well-worn 8-track tape. And children, we are not even remotely embarrassed to admit that our eclectic musical play list still includes several of Mister Roger's songs, most notably Islands in the Stream, his flaw-less duet with plastic surgery kindred spirit and fellow country music icon Dolly Parton.

Records and reports indicate that 69 year old Mister Rogers and his much younger wifey Wanda bought their Buckhead behemoth in March of 2006 for $2,800,000 and proceeded to remodel, raise the roof, replace the landscaping and fill the place with truckloads of champagne and beige colored furniture all to the tune of another $3,000,000.

Although property records show Mister Roger's residence measures in at 5,815 square feet, all the reports in the big newspapers say it's really around 9,000 square feet with 6 bedrooms and 6.5 bathrooms. Other luxury amenities on the fenced and gated 1.5 acre spread include a screening room so aggressively and mono-chromatically beige it's difficult to discern the sofas from the floors, an in ground gunite swimming pool with an itty bitty spa, a home gym, an elevator, and African themed guest bedroom (oh dear!) and a double driveway that leads to a three car garage and loads of additional parking.

Clearly, much time, money and attention was spent on the interior day-core of this home. All the efforts by Mister Rogers and his team of nice gay decorators has certainly paid off if the idea was to get the place primed, pumped and prepared for a small army of picture snappers from Architectural Digest to get in there and take porno-style photos of the furniture and music memorabilia. However, the place is simply too, uhm, dramatic–and beige–for Your Mama's delicate sensibilities and tastes, and we are so completely fascinated and fixated on what message is meant to be transmitted by showing Republican presidential hopeful John McCain on the boob-toob over the fireplace in the family room that we're having trouble seeing, parsing or making sense of much else in the Rogers' residence.

The Wall Street Journal article mentioned that Mister Rogers and his wifey Miss Wanda are also selling a nearby parcel for $2,900,000. According to Mister Rogers, the couple bought the 5-acre parcel in June of 2007 because, "My boys needed a place to play." The couple spent buckets of bucks adding a playground, irrigation, a rock wall, landscaping and electricity all so their 4-year old twin boys would have a place to frolic. Yes children, Mister Rogers fathered children in his sixties when most men are preparing to be grandfathers.

Anyhoo, all reports say that Mister Rogers, his wifey Wanda and their toddler twins will soon be moving to a 150-acre estate in sleepy Nicholson, GA–just outside of Athens–where they are building a modest 3,000 square foot house with a pond, two guest bungalows and a barn. Mister Rogers told the the Atlanta Journal Constitution that their new spread will be, "kind of like Disneyland with animals." Oh lawhd have mercy on our snarky soul. What makes people with a lot of damn money think they need to provide their children with an amusement park in the back yard? Word to the wise, plenty of people raise up their children in less lavish surroundings and they turn out just fine. Pleeze.

Besides, Kenny-hun, iffin you wanted to raise up your kids in a damn amusement park slash zoo, you coulda just called The White Lady and offered him a good price on Neverland Ranch. All that Disneyland crap is already there.

Here's the question we have before we move on to bigger and better things...who would buy an eight million dollar house with all custom furnishings of the previous owner? Do rich people who really do this? Or is it more likely some pharmaceutical executive with a fat back account will buy the place and trash all the furniture so that his wife will have a "project?"

UPDATE: Brad and Angelina

All the big gossip glossies and major media outlets are now reporting that American super stars Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie –Your Mama refuses to call them Brangelina–have LEASED the Chateau Miraval for three years rather than purchased the 880 acre spread for $70,000,000.

These new reports make much more sense since they have at least seven other properties they already own and spend butt loads of money maintaining. Your Mama seriously doubts they would want the headache and financial burden of a $70,000,000 working vineyard in France.

Blah blah blah...

Mister Big's Little House in Sherman Oaks

BUYER: Chris Noth
LOCATION: Oak Canyon Avenue, Sherman Oaks, CA
PRICE: $1,445,000
SIZE: 1,854, 3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms
DESCRIPTION: This is a very special Eichler inspired mid-century estate. Nestled in a lush canyon, and accessed via a private gated driveway, this post and beam three bedroom residence with a large family room offers unsurpassed privacy on a street-to-street lot. Walls of glass, beautiful wood finishes, sleek cement detail, and other earthy elements pop in an abundance of natural light. Remodeled stainless steel Snaidero kitchen, great indoor/outdoor flow, beautiful pool and dining patio.

YOUR MAMAS NOTES: Last week we were chit-chatting with good pal and wickedly well informed source Lucy Spillerguts who casually mentioned that Sex and The City stud Chris Noth and his gurlfriend/baby momma Tara Wilson recently bought a house in the hills of Sherman Oaks. As the children might imagine, Your Mama grilled Miz Spillerguts mercilessly, quickly contacted a few other helpers and started sifting through property records. Sure enough, records reveal that in August of 2007 the fifty-something year old new daddy forked over $1,445,000 for a modest and modernist house on Oak Canyon Avenue in what is arguably one of the better sections of Sherman Oaks.

Listen chickens, Your Mama is well aware this transaction took place last year. However, we're not aware of it being reported elsewhere and our attitude is better late than never. If any of you smart mouthed children don't like "old" celebrity real estate news, well too damn bad. We're not here to console or cow-tow to the sniveling whiners and complainers. Start your own damn blog if you think we're not doing a good enough job. Now that that's off our heaving chest...

Mister Noth, perhaps best known as the enigmatic and non-committal Mister Big on Sex and The City, has a long list of film, stage and television credits including being one of the original cast members of television juggernaut Law & Order. Back in the early 1990s, Mister Noth worked his sexy stuff as cocky and complex Detective Mike Logan until he was reportedly let go over a salary dispute in 1995. The man must of patched things up with the producers because he's recently reprised the role on Law & Order: Criminal Intent, one of the too many spin offs of the ubiquitous and formulaic program that often makes it difficult for Your Mama and the Dr. Cooter to walk our long bodied bitches due their them filming on our street all. the. damn. time.

Anyhoo, let's move on to the real estate. The first thing that Your Mama needs to note is that the interior day-core is not that of Mister Noth but the previous owner, who is not a celebrity. Therefore we'll not whisper a word about those creepy masks in the dining room or that flat screen television set mounted at a neck knotting height in the small but sleek kitchen that contains enough stainless steel that Your Mama is quite sure would drive our housegurl Svetlana to the booze cabinet.

The new Noth nest is accessed up a long and gated celebrity style driveway that gives Your Mama goosebumps...the good kind. A long and gated driveway not only lets the mailman and the pizza delivery boy know that you have arrived, it often means the house is set back from the street making it difficult for the prying eyes of paps and neighbors to peep in on your private moments. The driveway's glam factor is dee-lishusly cooled by the fact that Mister Noth's new Eichler-esque house measures only 1,854 square feet with 3 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms. Why does it always warm the cockles of Your Mama's cold heart to see a bonified celebrity who chooses to live in a modest retreat rather than some behemoth palazzo that feels like it was built first and foremost to contain a gigantic ego?

Generally speaking Your Mama isn't fond of amoeba shaped swimming pools, but we'll make an exception in this case as it provides a gentle juxtaposition against the clean lines and flat planes of the house. We could, however, do without the big urn at the far end of the pool which we're certain is meant to act as a visual trick to make the relatively small yard seem longer and larger than it is. However, it seems somewhat incongruous to Your Mama and might be better replaced by some sort of sculpture or better yet, nothing at all.

Overall both Your Mama and the Dr. Cooter L.O.V.E. this house and think Mister Noth and Miss Wilson are damn lucky to be living in this little modernist treasure discreetly tucked into the hillside and we'd happily trade places with them even if it meant Svetlana would need another few weeks out in the desert at the Betty Ford.

Although it appears that this is the first single family residence Mister Noth has owned, he is certainly no stranger to owning real estate. Given that he was New York City based for many years, it's no surprise he owns an apartment on East 9th Street and Fifth Avenue that records show he purchased in 1994. Unfortunately Your Mama was unable to glean much–or anything really–about the size of the apartment or how much he paid. We did discern, however, that it is located in the same quietly swank building where sharp witted Barney's bigwig and style arbiter Simon Doonan lives with his screamingly successful potter/designer huzband Jonathan Adler and also where daring dandy and Vogue V.I.P. Hamish Bowles recently dumped $1,500,000 hard earned fashion dollars for new digs.

Records show that Mister Noth also owns two condominium units at The Shoreham in West Hollywood. A teeny-tiny studio apartment was purchased in March of 2003 for $243,000 and a 1,453 square foot unit with 2 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms was bought in June of 2006 for $865,000. Mister Noth's mini real estate empire does not end there. We also note, via property records, that in June of 2005 he spent $600,000 on a 1,056 square foot condo getaway on Wailea Ike Place in Kihei, Hawaii.

When Lancedalot, I Camelot.

[This post was originally put up two weeks ago, but had to be removed, owing to technical problems. These have now been fixed, and I now represent my review of the Live From Lincoln Center broadcast of Camelot. Meanwhile, it's now May 27, so Happy Vincent Price's and Christopher Lee's birthday.]



You could hear his shriek from Morehead Heights to Redondo Beach. Little Dougie had just noticed online that PBS was going to broadcast a Live From Lincoln Center performance of CAMELOT, although speaking as someone who knew him intimately, I can state without fear of successful contradiction that Lincoln's center hasn't been "Live" for 140 years, and his extremities have been dead even longer. Quite frankly, the man had been shooting pool with a rope since well before Our American Cousin opened live at Ford's Theater. (Although those critics that stayed the for the rest of the play praised my performance as "The Second-Most Memorable Event of the Evening." One critic, wrote in The Washington Post: "Not even History can impede the flow of Miss Tallulah Morehead." while the reviewer for DC PEOPLE wrote simply "Sic semper alcoholus!")



Dougie was making a tremendous fuss that a new production of Camelot would be on TV. "There just isn't a good performance of this show on film or tape." he babbled at me like I cared, "The movie is worse than anything even you were ever in." (I'm sure he meant that caringly, and also he's right.) "And they released a DVD of a stage revival, and it still starred Richard Harris, who ought to have been playing Merlin. After all, Merlin exits 20 minutes in and is never seen again."


This new version would star Gabriel Byrne as King Arthur ("Hmmm," said Little Douglas, "Not whom I'd cast, but maybe it will work out.") and Marin Mazzie as Guinevere. Now I saw Mazzie perform onstage in both Passion and Ragtime, and she was terrific in each, although personally, I have great trouble properly controlling my singing whenever I'm experiencing either of those conditions. (Though for the latter one, it has been a long time since I've experienced it.) "Wait a minute" said Little Dougie, "It says Fran Dresher is in it. That must be a misprint. Still, she's only playing Morgan Le Fay, a role so small, half the time they cut the role entirely. She can't sink this show all by herself."



Dougie was right. Fran needed help to turn this CAMELOT into a total train wreck. And she got help. A lot of help.



That's Little Julie Andrews and Big Dick Burton being charming and heartbreaking in the original Broadway production in 1960. Little Dougie loves the show Camelot. You see, 42 years ago, back when he was a mere lad of 15, Little Dougie was in a swell production of Camelot, the February, 1966, Long Beach Civic Light Opera mounting of this show, featuring Laura Killingsworth, Ed Cotter, Phil Haynes, and the original Broadway roadshow sets and costumes. Little Dougie played Lancelot's Squire, Dap (5 whole lines, including the show-stopping: "The queen is at the stake, your majesty, shall I signal the torch? Your majesty? Your majesty??"), and he sang in the chorus of knights. Here's a picture of Little Dougie in the scene that introduces King Pellinore.




All right, he's a little small in that picture. You can see him better in this program shot of the singing chorus.



Maybe it's just me, but do the two ladies-in-waiting in the front row at the far end away from Douglas look like they've been ladies-in-waiting for a long, long time? In fact, I think those two may have been Ladies-in-Waiting-for-Gidot. Also, you gotta admire Little Dougie's 1183-style period haircut.



Dougie was a terribly ambitious young actor back in the 1960s, for all the good that came of it. He acted and sang well, and was a terrible dancer to boot. Here he is, 40 years ago this month, singing and dancing (At the same time!) with a dancer named Pepper Clyde, doing the song Once In a Blue Moon in the show Little Mary Sunshine in Long Beach in May 1968. Dougie was playing Billy Jester, and Pepper was playing Nancy Twinkle, as well as choreographing the show. Pepper had also choreographed the production of Camelot Dougie had been in.



Let's look a little closer at Dougie in this ancient picture. Take a gander at this blow-up from that shot (taken, I believe, by Matthew Brady.),


Now you tell me how anyone could look at this 17 year old boy, onstage or in person, and not know he was a big old homo? For God's sake, he's given himself a fake cleft chin with eyebrow pencil! He was the 1968 version of David Archuleta, only Dougie actually knows the lyrics to the Beatles's songs. And you couldn't drag Dougie's father backstage.



"Bad" is not the word for Gabriel Byrne's performance as Arthur in Camelot this week. It's too paltry a word. Gabriel Byrne, as it turned out, is dead, and his walking corpse is not a very good actor, even by lower, zombie standards. (And my Zombie Acting Standards are low!) He could not sing, I mean at all! Next to Byrne, Richard Burton was Frank Sinatra. One might have overlooked the horrific off-key noises he was making, not to mention the invent-them-yourself lyrics he stuck in, if only he could act. If I hadn't seen him give expert performances in a number of movies, I'd think he was a homeless man pulled out of an ally and shoved out on stage with one rehearsal, as a dark, practical joke on all involved.



At least, his blown lyrics were good for a laugh. In What Do the Simple Folk Do?, he changed the lyric "A violent trance, astounding to behold." into "A violent dance, astounding to behold." I'll bet it was. What had he seen? I suspect it was "The Rumble" from Act II of West Side Story. Or maybe he’d just seen some simple Apaché dancers.


Marin Mazzie was giving good demonstrations of her songs. She made lovely sounds, hit the right pitches, and clearly enunciated the lyrics she could remember. And to her credit, she remembered most of them. I'd even go so far as to say she remembered a quorum of her lyrics. But still, for some reason, at the climax of The Lusty Month of May, she chose to suddenly toss in her Jason Castro impersonation, and began singing nonsense sounds instead of the proper ones. (Never try to watch a musical with someone who has been in it and knows every single line and lyric, particularly when the cast performing the show doesn't!) But there is a big difference between demonstrating a song, and performing it. When Marin sang Before I Gaze at You Again, it was very pretty. But then Nathan Gunn, as Lancelot, stepped up and sang If Ever I Would Leave You, and my God, a STAR was in the house! I'll have more to say about Nathan (A lot more) a little further down, but what is relevant here is that he not only hit every pitch, and remembered all the words, all bellowed out in the most magnificent rich baritone voice you've ever heard, but he was also acting! When Nathan's Lancelot sang, he was a man deeply, passionately in love, and in agony over it. When Marin sang, she was a very competent singer singing on TV.


Gabriel Byrne should hang his head in shame. (Actually, given his performance, he should stop hanging his head in shame, as that's all he did for two hours.) When a movie star with a reputation as a good actor is out-acted (VASTLY out-acted!) by a baritone from the Metropolitan Opera, something is wrong somewhere.


The wonderful openly gay actor/singer Christopher Sieber, ironically one of the original stars of SPAMALOT (And how's this for irony? Spamalot has already run on Broadway longer than Camelot did.), was wasted in the tiny, nothing role of Sir Dinadan, who gets a few lines to sing in Then You May Take Me To the Fair, and otherwise has less to do than Squire Dap. Hello? Sieber is too good for his role, while nearly everyone else is ghastly.



As it happened, the cast of Little Dougie's production, while not-famous (Although his King Arthur, Ed Cotter, went on to win an Emmy, albeit, for editing Happy Days.), were all better than these losers at Lincoln Center. (Where was Johnny Booth when you needed him?) Except for Lancelot, that is. Oh Dougie had a good Lancelot, it's just that Nathan Gunn was great. I'll get to him. Hang on. Here are Phil Haynes as Lancelot, and Laura Killingsworth as Guinevere, showing a lot more passion than Marin managed.



Didn't Phil fill his tights well? If he's still alive, he must be 80 at least, but in 1966 he was about as dashing and handsome as you could hope for. He could act, and he sang like a dream. And he had a quality that Robert Goulet always lacked, real sex appeal. Goulet always looked lacquered and sexless, like a living Ken doll. Phil was a man well worth mentally undressing.


Laura Killingsworth was the wife of the world-famous architect Ed Killingsworth. Here's is a bit of what Wikipedia, that unimpeachable source, says of Ed Killingsworth (Who was a lovely, gracious man.):


Edward Killingsworth, FAIA, (1917–2004) was an American architect. He is best known as a participant in Arts & Architecture's Case Study program in the mid-1950s. He designed and built Case Study House #25, "The Frank House," in Naples, California. He also designed numerous luxury hotels all over the world and a large part of the California State University, Long Beach campus. In the architecture world, "Killingsworth" is synonymous with ultra-cool Southern California Post-and-Beam Mid-Century Modern.

Laura is still with us, and is still beautiful and gracious. I haven't heard her sing in years although I know she does still sing, but in the 1960s, she could give Julie Andrews a run for her money. Dougie performed with her again, a year and a half later, in Kiss Me Kate, and he ranks her performance as Amanda in Private Lives as being just a few hairs less-great than Maggie Smith in the same role., and her Desiree Armfelt in A Little Night Music and her Mame Dennis in Mame, Dougie rates as second to none. (Laura has done numerous productions of both the musical and the non-musical versions of Auntie Mame.)

Here's Phil kneeling before Ed, a pose Ed enjoyed far less than Dougie would have. Believe it or not, this is actually a picture of two straight men. Apparently they were dead set on showing who Arthur is really jealous of. "Guinevere, hands off Lancelot. He's Mine!" Ed, I am glad to say, is alive and well as of this writing.

This is how Dougie usually saw Phil Haynes, five days a week for four years, for in addition to co-starring with Little Dougie in Camelot, Phil was also Dougie's high school choir director, voice teacher, and director of The Choraleers, a 16-voice group Dougie sang in for two years.

That's The Choraleers, and there's Little Dougie beside the "Happiness is a piano" sign. Don't you love the hair on the girl standing next to him? That's 1968 in your face! They're actually performing the song What the World Needs Now is Love, Sweet Love, and Dougie had staged the number. In his heart, he was Bob Fosse. Sadly, he was someone else entirely in his feet. That was the 1968 Choraleers. Here's the 1967 Choraleers, with two of the girls missing.




Phil was a major mentor to Dougie for four years, that rarity of rarities, a "Good Influence," whatever the hell that is. A father figure who was actually interested in and knowledgeable about the things that Dougie was interested in, unlike Dougie's real father, and it didn't hurt in the least that Phil was good-looking enough to provoke naughty thoughts in Young Dougie as he watched Phil stuff himself into his dance belt backstage every performance.


Is it any wonder that, unlike many, many gay men, Little Dougie looks back on his high school days with fondness?


Here's King Arthur discussing wardrobe choices with Mordred. I've always wondered how Mordred kept his sleeves out of his food while he ate.

While we're here, please take a moment to admire the footware in the Arthur and Mordred picture. What the hell is Arthur wearing? Medaeval wing-tips?

This next picture captures the horrifying twist Little Dougie's production added to the ending, which certainly sent viewers home with a jolt. Arthur gets all excited about knighting Tom of Warwick, sending him back home, with instructions to:

"Ask every person if he's heard the story.
And tell it loud and clear if he has not,
That once there was a fleeting wisp of glory,
That was known as Camelot."

In this production, as you can see, Arthur got carried away, and stabbed Tom through the brain. He turned to the audience and said, "Oops." [CHORUS SWELLS. FINAL CURTAIN!]



I HATED this new TV Mordred!!! Bobby Steggert played him as some sort of gay Goth, with all the menace of Chris Kattan's old SNL character Mango. While he sang THE 7 DEADLY VIRTUES, he flirted with all the butch knights. Why didn't the knights just kill him? Did they think he was a girl? Did he think he was a girl? What an eccentric performance. How bad are you, when you and Roddy McDowell play the same role, and Roddy is the butch one?



People shouldn't applaud Fran Dresher's entrances; it only encourages her. She was far too busy being artificial and pleased-with-herself to bother with a performance. That Morgan Le Fey spoke with Fran's voice was funny for one line. By the time her musical number began, you wanted to see her killed. By the time she exited, you were ready to waterboard whoever had had the bright idea to cast her in the first place. I was just relieved that Robin Williams hadn't played Merlin, not that Stacy Keach smothered himself in glory. Actually, he smothered himself with ham. Instead of acting, instead of letting Merlin actually be excited when Arthur acquires ambition, Keach merely announced he was excited, while smirking smugly, and delivering his lines in precious, cutesy ways that seemed to ask: "Aren't I adorable? You know, if something terrible and unthinkable happened to Michael Gambon, like if he died, or he had a terrible accident, like getting run down by my car, late at night, when no saw it, or the driver, you know, something like that, then wouldn't I be a perfect Dumbledore in the last few Harry Potter films?"


No.


Here's Arthur with Little Dougie's Merlin, played by Michael Brown, who is still a good friend of Dougie's, still acting, and directing. If you live near Costa Mesa, look for the production of Del Shore's Sordid Lives which he'll be directing down there in a few months. And if you ever see a production of a play called Earthlings Beware! advertised, go see it. Michael wrote it, and it's hilarious.

Last year, Bobby Steggert played Jimmy Curry in the revival of 110 in the Shade. Here he is being all butch while Starbuck describes his plan for a nationwide string of coffee cafés.



And here he is camping about with a girl's hat, singing about how he got this girl's "Little red hat." How gay is that? What Douglas? It means what? Oh. Douglas says the hat symbolizes getting her cherry. That a man gets a "Little red hat" on the end of his Rod of Eros when breaching a virgin maidenhead. I barely remember mine. It left this world a century ago. I recall there was a lot of blood, but almost none of it was mine.

As it happened, 110 in the Shade is another show Little Douglas did, 40 years ago this week, immediately after Little Mary Sunshine, the last weeks of May, 1968. This time, Doug was one of the leads. He was File, who gets the girl at the end, so it was still a fantasy. Phil Haynes conducted the pit band.



In this picture from that show, Dougie's character has just punched out "Jimmy Curry," Bobby Steggert's role last year. (I know. I didn't buy Little Dougie flattening this larger, tougher, butcher lad either, but Dougie swears that, when you saw the play, the punch was far, far sillier.) Anyway, Bobby, consider this punch thrown at you through the decades on behalf of poor Mordred. (Douglas is beng "restrained" by two of his fellow Choraleers, Calvin Hoff and Curt Hespe. Doug was probably yellling "Hold me back! I'm a gittin' riled now, so hold me back!")


But the news about this fresh Camelot wasn't all bad, because there was Nathan Gunn as Sir Lancelot, and he was terrific! Not only is he gorgeous, with the body of the son of Atlas and Adonis (I know Adonis and Atlas are both male, but they can adopt in California.), and a heavenly voice, but he can act! "Big stars" Fran Dresher and Christopher Lloyd played "English" characters that sounded like they were from New York. The English accents were so absent, that Gabriel Byrne apparently hid his under the same bushel where he stored his acting ability. But Gunn, who was born in Indiana and lives in Illinois, played a French Lancelot who actually sounded French. He even has perfect comic timing. He is, and has, the full package!


Plus Nathan is the reigning king of a new type of opera divo, the Barihunk. Take a look at this picture of Nathan in the opera of Billy Budd.



Oh my God! He should be named Nathan Gunns, as his are fantastic. He's a male Dolly Parton. My gracious, his tits are huge! Looks, talent, charm, I am in love! I was on a jet to his landing strip at the speed of light. Here we are making beautiful music together.


Bear this in mind; he's an opera superstar. That's right; a nobody! I am a Big Movie Star, and I was literally throwing myself at his feet, and he turned me down! Whatever happened to respecting your elders? I'm more than 70 years older than he is. Who is he to turn me down?


And his excuse was so lame! He kept saying his "wife" didn't allow him to have sex with other women. How flimsy. How transparant. Heaven knows that never stopped any of the handful of straight husbands I had when no gay men were available for me to marry.


Oh wait. I see now: a big, muscular, butch man who loves opera, takes his shirt off a lot, has a (wink wink) "wife." I get it. He's gay. Of course. I understand. After all, more than half of my husbands "Loved opera." Well, at least this way I won't run the risk of suffering the catastrophe that befell Nathan's co-star in the opera of An American Tragedy. Now that was an American tragedy!


Barihunks aren't new, of course, just the term is. 17 or 18 years ago Little Dougie and I saw the premiere Barihunk, Rodney Gilfry, play Figaro in The Barber of Seville at the LA Opera. (Stop laughing. There is too an LA Opera. Yes there is. They're very good. No, really! They are! I saw Flacido sing Otello there. I tell you, they're good.) Anyway, we saw lovely, gogeous Rodney come on shirtless, and dress as he sang the famous Figaro aria. Woke me up, which isn't easy when there's an opera playing. Dougie loves opera. (Gay! The prosecution rests!) He also saw Rodney play Mozart's Don Giovanni live, despite Mr. Gilfry remaining overdressed, that is, dressed, throughout the whole performance. No such blunder occurred when Rodney played Stanley Kowalski in André Previn's sadly unmelodic opera of A Streetcar Named Desire on TV. The opera was lousy, but Gilfry, a boyish, extremely likable lad, made a perfect brutish Stanley. It would make for a very different Night at the Opera.


Here's how I imagine it went when Mrs. Claypoole invited Rodney to thrust his way deep into her private box at the Streetcar premiere. Otis B. Driftwood can't seem to escape fast enough. I'm with Mrs. Claypoole on this one. Rodney could clear my table anytime.


But Rodney, though still beautiful, is fast approaching 50. his barihunk roles are passing on to new singers. Our adorable Nathan Gunn has absorbed his Billy Budd, for an opera production so homoerotic, it married Liza Minnelli, and tongue-kissed her on The Larry King Show.




Nathan has not as yet played Stanley in Streetcar. Perhaps he heard the score, or maye he's just too nice to play that brute. (Although you can't get much nicer than Rodney.) However a half-Maori Barihunk named Teddy Tahu Rhodes is tearing up the stage as Stanley in Australia these days.


As long as gay men and wealthy, widowed courgars make up the bulk of opera audiences, the Barihunks will flouish. To hell with the fat ladies singing, it won't be over until the hot baritone disrobes! This will make Mozart!


Some things, like Barihunks, are eternal. Other things, like youth, are ephemeral...



... at least, for YOU!


Cheers darlings.