I Make A Wish.

My sister-in-law’s birthday party was really fun and featured a sweet gent in a bowtie who served food and booze, lit candles, etc. I’m praying he becomes my new nephew… After my cable froze sporadically during both the Belmont Stakes and the hockey game, I’ll pay anyone out there to dress like a Time Warner employee and let me hit you with my car… Went to Glendale Tap on Friday, which was originally a motorcycle repair shop. Free pool, peanut shells on the floor, and, if you’re lucky, you might get killed with a tire iron “Sons of Anarchy” style.

RSVPing.

It’s a big birthday for my sister-in-law today, and yes, Simine, I guess I’ll go to your party, but answer the next question VERY CAREFULLY: will there be a cheese tray?

This Week In Texting And Driving.

I saw four accidents this week, but only snapped pics of a couple of them. In the fan-fiction I’m currently writing, these two are dating.

More From One Of The Best Showbiz Books Around.

Seeing a couple being affectionate makes me hopeful that one day I will meet someone who will hate them with me.

In his book, Stories I Only Tell My Friends, Rob Lowe delves into his days as a single man. While promoting a film in Paris in 1986, he was asked if he’d like to meet Princess Stephanie of Monaco, the super-hot 21-year-old daughter of Grace Kelly. He was driven to her apartment, where she greeted him in jeans and a t-shirt and they instantly fell in lust. He put his life on hold, extending his stay in Paris and spending every moment with her, just working out, eating at cafés and sleeping over.

When he returned to the U.S., Stephanie came to visit him, and asked him to help her host the Princess Grace Foundation Gala in Dallas. At the event, her dad, Prince Rainier, a gruff old dude, avoided Rob, and Rob became determined to engage the man. Here’s an excerpt:

Near the end of the evening, I look to the head table. It’s late and the men have congregated together, as have the women, who are off somewhere. I see Gregory Peck, Robert Wagner, Cary Grant and Prince Rainier, and approach the group. 

“Excuse me. I just wanted to say goodbye and thank you for letting me be a part of a wonderful evening.” 

Rainier grunts and nods, the rest offer warm goodbyes and I head out. 

Then, when I am almost out of earshot, I hear my future Austin Powers costar Robert Wagner say, “Ya know, guys, I think that kid’s banged every one of our daughters.”

First-Day Dailies.

The last time I answered a Craigslist ad, I inadvertently starred in a snuff film.

So this time I’m shooting my own script. It’ll take a few weeks, but so far I’m really happy with the scene I shot on Sunday. Filming a comedy during golden hour on the best beach in California – good thing those khakis feature a roomy crotch.

And for anyone who wonders why I’ll never move back to New York (besides it being the most overrated city on the planet): I live 200 yards from where I’m standing in this shot.

Horrifying Or Hilarious?

Both.
Mickey Finnz, Redondo Beach.

Beach Formal.

I shot a beach scene over the weekend for a new comedy short. The shirt and tie were wardrobe, so no, I wasn’t dressing like a director from the 1930s. If I were, I would’ve also been wearing big, puffy riding pants, boots and a beret while holding a megaphone. By the way, what was the deal with those pants? Why did directors and Nazis who didn’t ride horses wear them?