
So yesterday was the big Fluff Festival in Sommerville, MA. If I wasn’t still out of town and so far behind getting my upcoming Soup To Nuts Party Mix live show on October 18 written I would sit here and post a zillion photos that I took over the last 36 hours. But I couldn’t get a plane out of Boston with an aisle seat so I vowed to lock myself in my hotel room for the next 36 hours until my flight and write, write and write in hopes of having something significant to say and do on stage. But I’ll be posting a bunch of Fluffified photos every day this week. That is if I can get all the marshmallow out of my hair and off my fingers so they don’t stick to the keys as they’re doing now. So for now I’ll just leave you with a couple photos from Friday night at the Fluff VIP party with two fellow VIPs, the Brady girls, Cindy and Jan #2, Susan Olsen and Geri Reischl, photo #1 of our first dip into the Fluff and photo #2, post dining on the foodstuff we flew thousands of miles to honor.

Long love Fluff. Stay tuned for more…

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I’m sure that Floyd Cardoz is a magnificent chef and I should’ve seen his win coming from that constant coming-in-second storyline all season. But having spent at least half of my adult life eating Mary Sue Milliken’s food, I went into the Top Chef Masters finale openly prejudiced that she would reign supreme. But alas…
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Despite the fact that I co-wrote the Friends theme song, “I’ll Be There for You”, I’ve never collected the plethora of merchandise associated with the show. It’s too new and mass-produced to have the soulfulness of merchandise I collect that came from TV shows of earlier decades, and instead just plops the logo or photos of the stars on the same old cups, T-shirts and keychains that every other post-1990 show on TV stamped their likeness on. Like this keychain that the manufacturer was even too cheap to stamp the name of the show on.
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Burk’s Igloo in Hamtramck, the once Polish center of Detroit, not only has KILLER ice cream but is famous now for being in the opening titles of HBO’s Hung.
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Tues., April 5, started at 7 am. (Kill me now; that’s the middle of the night for me.) Thank God there was a Yum Yum (my dictation software just typed that as Young Dumb) Donuts open in Southfield, the suburb of Detroit where Fox News is located. So I hit Young Dumb for a quick sugar infusion and rolled up the street to Fox in time to be on the morning news. Thank God the Green Room, one of the few actually painted green I’ve been in, had a nice, squishy couch. The donuts hadn’t quite kicked in yet.
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I never really got into The Smurfs. That shade of blue was definitely not my favorite color and I didn’t have the patience to learn the Smurf language. I also didn’t have the patience to study Hebrew for the couple of years I attended Hebrew school at Beth Aaron, right across the street from Mumford High in Detroit, so have no idea what this Smurf is saying.
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I pity the fool who doesn’t dig all the way down into his/her pockets on this, the most dreaded of days, Income Tax Day, and cough up what little is left in the coffers. Don’t get me started on this topic, how none of the greedy, disgusting suits have been prosecuted for turning the world upside down, leaving the rest of us to walk around with this same bewildered Mr. T look on our faces as the calendar strikes 4/15, or as it is this year, 17.
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I’ve laid in bed two days now nursing my just-operated-on knee back to health. As someone who literally never sits still, I’ve been a fairly model citizen since the surgery to repair a torn meniscus on Tuesday. Portable electronics certainly help and my love of bad television has been an excellent babysitter. But, most of all, I have excellent friends who have come to visit me and partaken in some spectacular photo ops:
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Today I’m having surgery to repair a torn meniscus in my left knee. The operation, a relatively quick outpatient job, was supposed to occur on my right knee but after putting the surgery off for over a year and a half I favored the good leg so much that literally the day I finally scheduled the invasion the good knee went eeewwwrrripppp!!! and snapped just like the other one. Calling Dr. Casey!!!
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As a collector of kitsch for decades now with a particular love for popular television shows, there’s nothing better than having the real thing who made the real thing in your presence. Such was the case when Susan Olsen, a.k.a. Cindy Brady, the youngest, cutest, blondest Brady in the Bunch, walked into Willis Wonderland last Friday afternoon. And she came bearing one of her signature Christmas cakes, which is how we came to know each other in the first place as she posted her kulinary kitsch koncoction in The Allee Willis Museum Of Kitsch over Christmas.
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