Apparently I'm surrounded by celebrities, but I must be wearing my anti-fame-seeking perfume this month 'coz they're bouncing off my mile-wide force field. Where are you Brangelina? ... Pete's mate saw you, AND Drew Barrymore, so why can't I? And Pete was nearly run over by Bill Cosby, then shared bar space with an Olsen Twin, so clearly it's MY turn. TomKat? ... I spent all day hanging outside Tiffany and Dior on Fifth Avenue yesterday, but I guess that was the day you were praying to the Gods of Scientology, indoors and far from my wishfully probing eyeballs. Dave is usually a star-spotter extraordinaire. He's keeping his eyes peeled, but so far, no luck. Just quietly I think all his vigorous wishing for SPORTSPORTSPORT has depleted my Manhattan Magic quota. He even roped his anti-sport
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