Don't I Know You From Somewhere?

The great thing about New York City is that no matter where you go, there's always a chance you'll see someone famous, semi-famous, or thinks-they're-famous. It's one of the charms of our city, our famous people are more regular people than they are in LA. They live their lives shoulder to shoulder with us, simply because they have no choice. They buy coffee in the deli, sit at the next table in restaurants, walk their kids down the street.

Some of my favorite celebrity sightings in New York:

* Alec Baldwin in about 1994 or 1995, walking through Times Square on a Friday night. I never found him particularly good looking in movies up till then, but face-to-face, he was hands down the handsomest man I've ever seen.

* David Byrne walking his bike on a side street on the Upper East Side.

* Chris Meloni, right after Law & Order: SVU premiered, at the next table at a little bistro in Tribeca. I said to my dining companion, "Hey, I recognize that guy from Law & Order!" He responded, "I recognize him from gay porn!"

* Ivanka Trump, all business, striding (if you're a 6-foot woman, you can only stride) past the deli where I sometimes get my coffee in the morning.

* Matthew Broderick, drinking alone at the bar at a restaurant called Indigo that used to be on West 10th Street.

* Matthew Broderick and Sarah Jessica Parker hand in hand on Bleecker Street. It was a steamy summer night and they were both eating ice cream cones. Man, are they the tiniest couple EVER?

* JFK, Jr., shirtless, in Central Park.

* Vincent Donofrio and Kathryn Erbe shooting a Law & Order episode on Varick Street.

* Storm Phillips at the opening night party for a movie called "Gay Sex in the 70's."

* Ethan Hawke, pushing a baby carriage, post-Uma, in Central Park.

* Randolph Mantooth, walking down Park Avenue, unrecognized by everyone except me and my friend Juliet. Recognizing Randolph Mantooth is proof that I am OLD.

Today's very minor celebrity sighting:

Jonesing for biscuits and gravy, I called on my now-married pal Racer X with a cry for brunch at our favorite cajun spot on 5th Street. When he and the little lady joined me, I was seated at the bar, nursing a spicy bloody mary and reading the Village Voice.

As we were waiting for our table, I realized that I recognized the bartender from somewhere, and after a while, it came to me. It was Mr. Pussy! Now, you'd have to be a Sex and the City fan to have any idea who I'm talking about, but let me just say, Season 2, Episode 15.

Turns out this guy has been the bartender at this joint for years; Racer X and he both recognized each other.

Of COURSE I'm not going to tell you where to find him, lest it become one more attraction for the odious "SATC" mobs that currently mill and litter outside Magnolia Bakery.

What's Not To Like About Sam'l L. Jackson?

At LEAST a Two-Hanky Video

A Fine Waste of Time

Sometimes you just want to kill some time.

Here's one way.

Just close your office door so your co-workers aren't alerted you are fucking around by the mad cackles emanating from your space.