Girl, do I enjoy bigwig news! I do not know why I am so celebrity
struck, but it is endlessly been that way. I have constantly been
intrigued with celebrities and their lives.
Girl, do I enjoy bigwig news! I do not know why I am so celebrity struck, but it is endlessly been that way. I have constantly been intrigued with celebrities and their lives. When I was a little girl I sent fan letters to my preferred celebrities, the Pink Panther actor Peter Sellers was one and Jerry Lewis was another. I liked to hum along to my 45 rpm music to hits from the Beatles, hoping that John, Paul, George and Ringo would suddenly stop by my small home in Bethesda, MD, see me, and be so shocked they would stop and come knock on my door.
While staying in L.A. as an adult, I soon came to discover that singers were just human beings, and sometimes not particularly nice ones. Star gossip spread like uncontrollable fire in Los Angeles. Everyone knew someone, that knew someone, who SWORE that a story about a star was true. The most famous tall tale, and one that did not die down for years, was about Richard Gere. A friend of my cousin present in the ER that day and he claimed that...
The latest bit of star rumours that, unfortunately, turned out to be true, was a few months ago when I got a message from my relative in Orange County mentioning Michael J. is dead. My initial guess was Michael Jordan, but when I looked to the web I saw that the globe was ablaze with the rumors that Michael Jackson had been driven to the hospital, unconscious. When I contacted my relative and said that MJ was not dead, he said, Believe me. My spouse works in Pediatrics at Cedars Sinai and she knows someone who works in the facility ...You know the rest!
