Another update from our guest columnist
Everywhere they’re talking about poor Tori Spelling, whose father, Aaron Spelling, died and left his little oytser only a million dollars. We should all have such tsuris.
Aaron Spelling was a big shot producer who made a billion dollars on TV with “Mod Squad” and “Charlie’s Angels,” and other shows we needed like a loch in kop, except maybe for “Love Boat,” which if he did that one, wasn’t so bad, and the one with the midget. He and that wife of his, Candy, built a huge mansion which has a bowling alley, an indoor pool, and a room just for wrapping gifts, which I heard about from Jorge, our UPS man.
Anyway, a couple weeks ago, my friend Sylvia Birnbaum was in a gas station on Wilshire trying to figure out the self-serve, when all of a sudden, her Camry was hit on the side by a blond girl in a red Mercedes, and that girl, believe it or not, was Tori Spelling, who Sylvia recognized from that 9210 show about a pack of high school kids played by actors old enough to collect Social Security.
When she got out of the car, (in a nothing of a dress), she was on the phone, which is why she was so fartootst. They passed a law here saying you can’t use them in your car, but Sylvia told me she was wearing flip-flops, which, if you ask me, was another reason she was driving like a maniac. Maybe they should outlaw flip-flops, too.
My grandson Todd says that every time he’s driving and Barry Manilow comes on the radio, he gets so meshugge trying to change the channel, he nearly runs off the road. He says instead of cell phones, maybe they should ban Barry Manilow.
Personally, I saw Barry Manilow’s show in Las Vegas, and he was sensational. He’s no Wayne Newton, but who is?
I've said enough already.