April Winchell

Web Site of the Moment

My crazy sister Amber (who you may recall from her appearances on my show – she was the one parked outside of Robert Blake's house with bagels waiting for him to do something incriminating) sent me this link today.

What a treasure trove. Just a big pile of unsubstantiated rumors about the sexuality and disposition of some of the most famous people in Hollywood.

I especially like the insinuation that Richard Dean Anderson is a "Friend of Dorothy's". It makes you wonder what McGyver was really doing with the hamster and the duct tape.

And from my nephew Brandon, this web site for a realtor in Pleasanton. He suggests you scroll down to the third picture, and look out the window. Priceless.

New York

I'm leaving on Wednesday to go to New York for two weeks.I have a few meetings and some potential work out there, so keep your fingers crossed.

I'm also going to a wedding in Jersey. I'm a little apprehensive about that, I have to admit.

First of all, these people are Irish. Not that there's anything wrong with that. But from what I understand, there will be a lot of drinking. And I don't mean a few drinks. I mean days of Wine and Roses. In fact, the rehearsal dinner is in an Irish pub.

Now, I don't have anything against drinking. I'm all for it. I'm just not any good at it.

Two things happen when I drink. I'm happy for about ten minutes, and then I start to cry. It's a lot of fun.

I had a drink on a first date once, and then I cried for about an hour. In front of him. Good move.

And then there was that time we went to San Francisco. I usually just have a dirty gin martini, but this time I decided to drink something less stiff so I could drink longer. I tried a Cosmopolitain and loved it. So I had five.

I wound up crying so hard in that bar that my date leaned over to me and said, "You have to stop crying. People will think I'm beating you".

And then there was the Minotti furniture store opening in Beverly Hills. I don't know why I wound up on their mailing list, but it was a swanky party with a red carpet, and you know I wasn't going to miss that.

When I got there, I discovered that the party was sponsored by Grey Goose vodka. I had just read that vodka doesn't have any carbs, so I was delighted. I had a few martinis with coffee beans in them. I spilled a drink on someone's pants, almost broke my neck on a coffee bean and wept all the way home.

Maybe I can get away with the weepy thing since it's a wedding. Maybe they'll think I'm just charmingly sentimental, and not a sloppy amateur. On the other hand, maybe I'll just smear my mascara and dump a drink on myself and save a lot of time.