"I'm a woman, but I'm super exaggerated with my boobs, my ass, my makeup, and my accent. When I get ready for an event, I always look at myself in the mirror and say, 'I look like a transvestite!'"—Sofia Vergara embraces her inner drag queen. Next up, an appearance on RuPaul's Drag Race!
I have a love/hate relationship with LA. When I'm here, I can't wait to leave. And when I'm away ... well, I'm happy, but feel I should miss it. OK, so that's not really love/hate...that's love/ambivalence! Be that as it may, I am back in L.A. for the first time in over three months after a tumultuous episode in my life that would make "The War of the Roses" look like a romantic comedy! However, the tumult has passed, the Beverly Hills abode has been spruced up, and I hit the ground running.
I returned with just 48 hours to settle in and then head to the Emmys. First let's look at the red carpet. Best dressed? Kelly Osbourne. I couldn't believe how gorgeous she looked—and how beautifully she carried herself. Worst dressed? Christina Hendricks, whose badly fit gown gave her an unfortunate "uni-boob". Oddest couple? Kathy Griffin planting a wet one on Ryan Seacrest's lips. Favorite person? My darling Nancy O'Dell. After admiring each other's outfits, she said, "I'm trying to find my way backstage." I took her arm and said, "Me, too!"
As to the awards, I don't care what anyone else says—I thought Jane Lynch was fine. Not great. Not terrible. Opening was badly conceived—the AutoTune was working overtime, the writing was tepid and the delivery was uninspiring. Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how did you like the play? I think Jane was committed to her character, kept things moving, and didn't embarrass herself. A for effort; C for execution.
—Best moment: Mrs. Levitan's reaction shots during hubby Steve's win for Best Writing on Modern Family.
—Runner up: All of the Best Actress in a Comedy nominees running onstage and standing together, ala Miss America. A moment almost marred by Rob Lowe's bland delivery.
—Best speech: Guy Pearce. Anyone who can get a laugh while talking about inserting anything into Kate Winslet is a winner in my book.
—Most annoying idea: Those unbearable voiceovers when the winners walked to the stage. Again, bad writing, bad delivery, bad, bad, bad...
—Runner-up: The Emmytones. I love each of those people individually, but someone hand me a gun ... quick.
—First bathroom encounter: Finding myself standing next to Tom Sizemore at the Emmy urinal. I believe he was trying to score some clean specimen for an upcoming test.
—Most welcomed surprise: A memorable encounter with Thomas Dekker, who is growing into quite a handsome and charming young man—makeup and all.
—Strangest sighting: Charlie Sheen cozying up to Ashton Kutcher backstage.
—Second bathroom encounter: Talking to Ryan Murphy while we're washing up. He says the film version of The Normal Heart will be shot next summer. He then asked me for a paper towel, gave me a tip and left.
As usual, HBO was the biggest winner of the night, so it followed that the network had the swankiest affair—once again produced by the expert Billy Butchkavitz. As I mentioned, I had already staked out the décor and was sure to match the color scheme. Apparently I wasn't the only one. Kathy Griffin and I were once again in sync. She, however, was quite disappointed: "For God's sake, no one has thrown me out or even given me a dirty look. If you could arrange to have me dragged out by security, I'd really appreciate it." Would that I could.
We all know Peter Dinklage is tiny, but who would think Scott Caan was not much taller? Of course, I didn't bring up the last time we were together—when he was roughhousing in a WeHo gay bar. I do have some manners.
I even had the good sense to avoid Heidi Klum—who is not known for being chatty, especially when with her hubby. But she went one better this year—she brought her own security. Whenever anyone started to walk near her, this goon would step out and say, "She's speaking!" Like she's Queen Elizabeth or something. Auf wiedersehen. Instead, I spent time chatting with Nina Garcia, who is a delight—charming, funny and radiant. I'm not sure, but at one time I might have been standing next to Diane von Furstenberg. I'm still not sure. I almost yelled out "Mrs. Diller," but I was afraid she might think I was calling for Barry!
I am willing to bend over forwards and backwards for my fans. So my "get" of the night was Joe Manganiello. Here's a tip—don't try to get between him and the smell of ... well, let's just say estrogen. The hunky True Blood star is recently single and, as a result, was always in the presence of a variety of females who hung on his every word. I'm not intimidated by many things, but he's a big one. Tall. Very sexy. Charismatic. And, believe it or not, kinda fun and personable. We shared a few words and took a photo—in which he looks far less menacing than you'd expect. In fact, it almost looks like we're out on a date. See for yourself on BillyMasters.com .
Let's slip in a quick "Ask Billy" question from Terrance in Chicago: "I just love Jon Fleming. A friend told me he was just in something where he was totally nude. What was it? Please track it down!!"
Since hereTV mercifully cancelled Dante's Cove, Jon Fleming has been its most active alum. He's been seen on Medium, Castle and CSI: NY. The show you're talking about is Femme Fatales on Cinemax. In this episode, Jon plays a stripper who gets killed at a bachelorette party ... because that's original. The twist is, his perfect body is on display for a significant amount of time—full frontal and all. Fleming, whose body never disappoints, has never looked better. And you can see every inch of him on BillyMasters.com .
When I'm spending most of the Emmys in the men's room instead of my seat, it's definitely time for me to end yet another column. You know how much I love you? Enough to stay up after a long night of revelry to write this report and post it on www.BillyMasters.com, the site that never sleeps. Before I pass out, let me say that I'm happy to entertain your questions, comments, or quips. Just write to Billy@BillyMasters.com and I promise to get back to you before someone dwarf-tosses Scott Caan! So, until next time, remember, one man's filth is another man's bible.
