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The other night, while stumbling back from a bar (that will explain the quality of these next two images), I spotted Alec Baldwin in front of the Carlton.

He was standing behind a barrier and waiting to cross la Croisette, while a concierge kept telling him, “Not yet! Not yet!”

I spun my camera around and shot this photo of someone who may or not be Alec Baldwin (I promise, it is):

Suddenly, the concierge started yelling, “Now! Now! Go! Go!”

And so Alec Baldwin did:

Just wait for Ben Stiller’s limp hand,

-Shady

…which means they might actually be good this year.

Reality television should be illegal,

-Shady

…some weirdness happened.

(If you haven’t read the post “I just saw the worst movie ever,” go read it before reading this entry.)

First, when we got to the Arclight there was some kind of mass hysteria going on in front of the place. There were paparazzi photographers crowding the area, huge lights set up, and people yelling. As Kathy and I get closer to the building we notice Kim Basinger standing against a backdrop.

She’s looking all pouty-faced.

I guess she has some movie out now that made its premiere tonight at the Arclight. It’s called “I Just Slept With You Last Summer,” or something like that.

Anyway, so all these people are freaking out (mostly photographers) and the cast is busy posing in front of this little backdrop they have set up outside, but we just kind of walked around it and went on in. Here are a few pictures that have already made it onto the wire. They’re small because they’re just thumbs.

"So... like, Alfred told me you're Batman. Fucked up, huh?"

"So... like, Alfred told me you're Batman. Fucked up, huh?"

So we’re standing just inside the lobby waiting to meet some friends when, all of a sudden, her handlers bring her inside away from the crowd. And there she is, standing just five feet from me: Vicki Vale.

I didn’t do it, but I so badly wanted to go up to her and ask three quick questions:

1. What was it like fucking Batman?

2. What was it like fucking Alec Baldwin?

3. Is Alec Baldwin Batman?

I got no balls, though, kids. Instead, I headed to the bar for a drink and left Miss Vale alone.

We’re in the bar having a pre-movie drink when one of our friends leans over to me and says, “Do you watch the new ‘90210?'”

Me: “No.”

I’ve never seen even four seconds of the old “90210,” and know very little about the new version, but I guess the young dark-haired guy who plays the Persian on the new “90210” was at the bar. He could have been the Pope for all I know, but I guess he was there.

That tidbit was for you, ladies. And Milan. Awww, yeah. Don’t ever say I never give you anything.

But neither Kim Basinger nor the “90210” Persian were the coup de grâce. No, fate would offer me a much more memorable meeting in just two short hours.

After suffering through “The Reader,” the Q&A session with the screenwriter began. It’s true that I have the bladder of an eight-year-old girl, but I also felt I had gone through enough pain for one evening, so I decided to get up and head for the bathroom.

I walk in, stand at the urinal, do the whole “look forward” thing, and finish. And then, just as I turn to head toward the sink, I see this old man lock eyes with me. I smile and nod. He smiles and nods. I wash my hands. I leave.

But there was something familiar about him… something I can’t quite put my finger on… like he was from–

And then it hit me.

I stop outside of the bathroom and wait, pretending to look at a few photos that are hanging on the wall. He comes out and walks toward me, past me. And then, I hear someone down the hallway yell, “UNCLE LEO!”

Sure as shit, it’s Uncle Leo from “Seinfeld.” And to think, we shared a post-pee moment.

Ah… Los Angeles. What a weird, fucked-up town.

Where else can you see Vicki Vale, the Persian and Uncle Leo all in one place? That’s right: no where.

Well, maybe at a comic book convention. But that’s an entirely different post.

My son Jeffrey works in the Parks Department,

-Shady

Old Poop!