I don't mix well with celebrities and alcohol.

I don’t have a very good track record of mixing celebrities and alcohol.

There was the incident at Mardi Gras quite a few years ago when I was the publicist for the broadcast. Spent the whole night working up the courage – and downing the vodka’s – to ask for a photo with Dannii Minogue and Lucy Lawless (Xena Warrior Princess) in the VIP area. Just as I was having a friend take the much-prized pic, out jumped a paparazzi and the resulting shot ran in the Sunday Telegraph and New Idea. I was mortified!

Found it on Google Image, too funny!

It was the first of many times that my boss hauled me into her office for the “the publicist is never the story” lecture.

It was also a dark night when I was chaperoning a very talented, very young, now international actor and I thought it was a good idea to take him to Arq. I lost him. There was another separate incident at Arq, in the DJ booth, but again that one will need to be legaled first and then only for my tell-all memoirs after I retire.

Then there was the time I ‘borrowed’ (some say stole) Delta Goodrem’s Logie and then danced around a Melbourne nightclub punching it in the air like it was mine. Congrats to me.

Yes, yes, its my very old Twitter pic.

This one doesn’t involve alcohol, but it is top of mind whenever I think of embarrassing celebrity moments. I accidentally bumped into/met Simon Baker one morning and I got so flustered by his sheer beauty that I dropped the stationary I was holding and then had this incredibly awkward moment as I stumbled around his knees to pick it up. 

Speaking of stumbling… Was once in a stairwell of some dirty Kings Cross nightclub staggering between floors with a double vodka in hand. I was able to open my eyes just enough to see Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman coming down the stairs. Freaked so much I tripped and almost spilt my drink! And trust me, I never spill my drink.

So you can imagine my fear when at a function this week my Plus 1 Lady Marmalade turned to me and said “I want my photo with him!”

She was referring to the breakout star of the brilliant new TV drama Killing Time, Richard Cawthorne. We were at cocktails after the premiere screening so we’d just been enthralled by this guy on the big screen for the last two hours. Now he was standing beside us - in the flesh. Too much! And too cute!

I tried to explain to Lady Marmalade that I wasn’t very good at this sort of thing, that it always leads to embarrassment. It’s the whole stopping of celebs and asking for a photo that makes me real uncomfortable. Lady Marmalade understood, I mean we are established career gals, confident, smart, we’ve got our shit together. We are well past being 14yo screaming schoolgirls at a Beiber concert.

But by now we were slightly socially lubricated, and Lady Marmalade started to share how she finds photo-bombing (or as she called it photo-blitzing) hilarious. Which gave us a brilliant idea. While we were too embarrassed to ask for a photo with him, there was nothing stopping us from getting a photo of Lady Marmalade and his back!

Can not tell you how funny we thought this was. We’d become fascinated by this actor so we loitered real close so that we could enjoy being in his presence without having to embarrass ourselves. Yes, slightly stalkerish! Then something weird happened that can only happen in a crowded room at a social function. The crowd just all of a sudden dispersed and left us standing face-to-face with said actor in an awkward silence.

Lady Marmalade covered well. “I just think you were fabulous! So fabulous. But I just heard that you get killed. Were your tattoo’s real? Can I have a photo?” I nearly choked. But hey, it’s a great shot. Certainly better than the one of his back.

Literally 20 seconds after this shot was taken he bolted. 

With such a great result we felt our confidence rise. Next on Lady Marmalade’s hit list was Vince Colosimo. Thankfully after a handful of canapés common sense and our dignity prevailed. So instead of asking for a fan shot with Vince we got one of his back instead.

That’s how we roll.

Lady Marmalade, I love you! You are fucking hilarious.

JENNIFER HUDSON!

I have been in the presence of greatness! JENNIFER HUDSON!!!

After last night I worship at the altar of Ms Hudson! I believe her to be the voice of her generation, there is no equal. Fact!

So in one of those random events that life dishes out, I scored an invite to a Jennifer Hudson ‘Up Close & Personal’ thrown by the lovely people at MIX 106.5. One of the cheekier, sassier, smoother, more adorable radio promo types is @ShaunHeron who shot me through the invite. Hesitated for a minute, but then thought why the hell not – for godsake she won an Oscar – so invited along my No. 1  Miss Cal.

Well. I can confidently say that it was one of the most amazing performances I’ve ever seen. Jennifer Hudson is a SUPERSTAR with the most phenomenal voice! Such composure, so genuine, unbelievably effortless! 


Not one to blow some smoke up my own arse… but I’ve been very lucky over the years and have met, seen, heard some of the greatest voices and performers. On top of that, I am a bitter and twisted middle-aged queen who thinks he’s seen and done it all before.

That is… Until I was five people back at a JENNIFER HUDSON showcase!

I seriously can not describe how sensational her performance was last night. At one stage I was literally doubled over with my whole body tensed in anticipation, goosebumps even on my calf muscles, tears welling in my eyes. I couldn’t even scream with joy I was literally so speechless. I couldn’t tell you what songs she sang or even how many, just that with each song she took her performance to a whole new level.

I worked on Australian Idol, and I was in the room for the original audition, semi-final (Barbra Streisand) and performances (most notably ‘Chains’) for the one-and-only Paulini. To my ear I have always considered Paulini one of the most pure, effortless voices I have ever heard in my life. In a bizarre coincidence I’d bumped into Paulini last night just before JH took the stage. She was beside herself with excitement. Singers know and love other singers, this I have learnt over the years. When I was about to collapse in pure rapture over JH, Paulini was a few steps in front of me waving her arms with absolute joy. I know what I love, Paulini loves it cause she understands the skill and talent involved.

Mrs Woog and Paulini

Yes, yes I know I am now gushing like a 12 year old after a Bieber concert but I am not alone. Miss Cal grabbed me half way through a JH song and yelled “AMARSING” while she patted my back instinctually knowing I was already in tears.  Having been invited as well, Mrs Woog and her +1 Mrs Ryan were in tears like myself. Seriously, our new bestie Jennifer was AMARSING!

BUY HER ALBUM, BUY HER ALBUM! 

Ahhhh… Jennifer… Thank you!

And just to finish off, and just because I love the photo, Mrs Woog and Mrs Ryan ended up back at Man Pit on the couch with me and Sam to watch the IQ’d final Oprah ep. But more about that another time…

I do not need to see the shots of a dead bin Laden

I do not want to see the shots of Osama bin Laden shot in the face.

And I do not need to see them.

Surely this is one instance where we should be happy to take the word of the leader of the free world. If Obama puts himself on the line like this, he who has so expertly linked himself with this momentous event and with the full support of CIA, Pentagon and world leaders – who am I to want to see the evidence?

56million Americans watched...

And at the risk of sounding dumb, if Osama has been shot in the face how the hell is Joe Public meant to tell if its him anyway. We’ve only ever seen grainy photos or video of him so what would be gained? Surely to release the photos to appease the public’s baying for blood is completely redundant. I can understand experts wanting to see them, and they have, and they’ve been verified. As has DNA. US citizens, I feel, should be happy with that and on this one issue of such national importance should have a little more faith and trust in their political and intelligence leaders.

And that is to say nothing of the political and societal impact of releasing a graphic photo of someone shot in the face, irrelevant of who it is. That would have to be one of the most disturbing images ever to be seen on Page 1. No thanks, I don’t need to see it.

On somewhat of a tangent, it has been fascinating to watch the events of the last week and look at them from a communications and publicity perspective. Before I go down this path I need to say that I could not be considered by any stretch of the imagination an expert on US politics or world terrorism. I’d say 75% of my knowledge of US politics comes from the second best TV series ever made, West Wing. What I know is from a general, sometimes passing, interest in world events.

Situation Room on West Wing

Watching live Obama’s speech announcing the death of bin Laden, what struck me the most was his incredibly clever use of language to leave no doubt in the public’s eye that it was he, Obama, who had brought down bin Laden. I can’t remember the exact words but it was Obama who lead the investigation, Obama called for clarification, Obama gave the final word, Obama watched it live, Obama has called all key stakeholders. It felt like he said ‘as Commander-in-Chief’ every second sentence. His message was clear. He was the US leader that had found and killed bin Laden. The political capital in this is astronomical.

We’ve all heard the phrase ‘a picture tells a 1000 words’. That picture of the Security Council watching the attack on the compound live will be one of the most historical photos ever taken. To release that shot was absolutely genius! It gave an act of war a distinctly human feel. Hilary in particular stands out to me. What strikes me as odd about it is how did it come about? Do they shoot everything that happens in that room, me thinks not. So someone would have had to make the call that they needed a photographer in the room which automatically gives it a different context for me.

Yes they knew it would be a historic moment, yes I’m sure they were all aware of the inevitable public expectation for detail. As I’m sure they are so used to being photographed they didn’t even notice him in the room. I would just love to know how that conversation took place, and between who, that decided to have a photographer in the room. It’s the publicist in me, but it was an absolute stroke of genius and who ever in Obama’s Communications team suggested it is my new idol (a real-life CJ Cregg).

The only thing I’ve found confusing about this situation from a communications perspective is the changes to the story of what exactly happened in that compound. Knowing the level of scrutiny they would be under from the world’s media and citizens, I am so shocked that every minute detail was not confirmed beyond a doubt before being released to the public. It’s Crisis Management 101. Take a leaf out of Anna Bligh’s book, she was the master during Qld floods. Only speak to what you know as fact. It does not instill the public with confidence when one group says one thing and then someone else says something different. I am genuinely amazed that this happened.

As I said, I’m only a passer-by on this dramatic world event. It’s just that I picked up on a few things that really got me thinking about the communications strategy involved. I’m fascinated by the PR components of this dramatic tale.

And of course I will be reading the inevitable behind-the-scenes book!

Lets call it a threesome!

I am being an absolute blogging tart today! No question about it. I am the Paris Hilton of blogging.

If Charlie Sheen can have two Goddesses than so can I!

First off, I’ve got some shit goin’ down over at Woogsworld today. It all started when Mrs Woog asked me what I was doing for Mardi Gras? The answer… I am fleeing the city for the weekend. She was amazed that this was my plan considering I am a professional homosexual and she demanded I explain why. The answer is on her page today. Here is a little excerpt...

“Mrs Woog was intrigued. I continued to explain that there were quite a few things about Mardi Gras that, if not at the top of your game, can leave you unsettled. “See, look at that” and I directed her attention to a poster for Fomo – a particularly glamorous foam party. I look at that and all I can think about is the practicalities. If I’m at a party in nothing but my undies and shoes where the hell do I keep my wallet, phone, keys, ciggies, lighter and ventolin? I wouldn’t be caught dead at any party without easy access to these life-essentials.”

To read the full explanation please head over to Woogsworld here.

My second flirtation today is with the gorgeous MamaMia. I’ve been all fired up and obsessed with the Charlie Sheen story this past week – I think it is GOLD! Yesterday I gave a sermon over at MamaMia on what I would do if I was Charlie’s publicist. Since this was posted Charlie has joined us on Twitter which I now think could be a career-saving move. If he keeps this up he could be a cult-hero in less than two-days. Here is a little taste of my (un)professional take on the Sheen-tastic saga…

“Now it would be easy to blame Charlie for all of this but even Lindsay Lohan could see the man has issues. He needs a strong hand and guidance, followed by intensive psychological help. The question I keep asking is where is his publicist? Why is someone not shutting this story down? Now obviously I am a little biased thinking that a publicist could have changed all of this for Charlie but I’ve been in this job since before Dawson’s Creek so I know what we do…..”

To check out the full story head over to MamaMia.

And the third piece of writing that I am attempting to pass off as a blog post today is everything you’ve just read. Everyone knows that always in a threesome someone gets left out, in this threesome its St. Murphy. Mia and Mrs Woog got all my love and attention today because they are hot, smart, hilarious women who inspire me.

And two glamour’s in a threesome ain’t all that bad!

Charlie Sheen, you need me!

I am completely obsessed with the Charlie Sheen SAGA! I‘ve been on the edge of my seat as the drama, and the hookers, unfold. It has been BRILLIANT!!! Just when you think the whole thing can’t get any tackier out he comes on radio with what will go down in history as one of the all-time-great, career-suicide tirades.

It’s 18mins of Pure Audio Gold!

Why aren’t health professionals screaming for him to be commited? He is obviously a small baby step away from Anne-Heche-Crazy. Some of the lines he uses in this jumbled mess of an interview are pure gold. And more than slightly disturbing. “I will murder with great violence” but because he is the star of highest rating sitcom this is apparently fine. WINNING!

Charlie Sheen 'winning'

Truth be known, I am desperate to be his publicist. How much fun would that be! And I’m serious. The drama of it all, and the complete weirdness, would be intoxicating. Running joke at work is that I am only good in a crisis, rest of the time just plain average. Well this is a crisis I’d love to get my teeth into. If for no other reason it would be hilarious. Definitely funnier than Two And A Half Men ever was.

Imagine Charlie’s poor, long-suffering publicist if they were sitting in on this interview. Publicity 101 is to keep your client as far away as possible from media when they are even slightly unhinged – so I can only presume there was no publicist involved. But can you imagine if they were there when he erupted with that psychotic rant; they would have doubled over in grief, spilt their Diet Coke, potentially even dropping their sacred Blackberry. That’s how dire this interview is. This would have been a “life flashes before your eyes” moment for any semi-decent publicist.

So all my publicity juices are flowing over this one, and then comes the next instalment. Charlie Sheen on A Current Affair last night. Best thing I can say about it – Charlie had great eyebrows. The worst thing, why the hell are his people still letting him do interviews? I just don’t get it. Its almost like someone is playing a nasty joke on poor little Charlie. This is not how you win back your job or endear yourself to a very judgemental public. Someone get the man a Xanax, he needs to calm the hell down.

His open hatred for Chuck Lorre and CBS is palpable. But still he says Series 9 will go ahead. It kinda sounds like this is the crazy man’s version of Gillard and Abbott hosting a chat show together – NEVER GONNA HAPPEN. Yes we all know there is a lot of money at stake but surely you couldn’t bank on Mr Sheen staying sane, sober or upright. If he was working in his current manic state the writers would need to double his lines just so they can fill the 30mins.

So every natural publicity instinct in me would be to shut this down, keep him away from the world – no good can come of this. Fake rehab, apologise, beg for forgiveness and pledge yourself to god! That’s how Americans get themselves out of a PR crisis. Or became a lesbian. But Charlie is obviously pulling the strings so I fear this runaway train of a story has a few more stops yet. 

And I can’t wait!

I'd just finished bashing this out when I remembered @PipRMB had shot through to me an article from The Hollywood Reporter. Take a look, it seems all publicists are on the same page. The legendary Pat Kingsley, famously fired by Tom Cruise, says it best... “If he doesn’t think he has a problem, he probably doesn’t need a publicist.”


And why wasn't I invited to the Publicists’ Guild Annual Luncheon on Friday at the Beverly Hilton?


NEWS ALERT: It's 9.05am and I already have to update the Sheen Saga with two absolute gems...


The first is an interview with TMZ, best quotes from it here.


And the next is his interview with ABC News here.


CHARLIE, I BEG OF YOU! STOP SPEAKING!!!!!!!!

Television. It's back! Ratings start today.

The gloves come off in television-land today with the official start of the ratings year. It’s game on mole! All the networks line up all their best programs and fight fiercely for an audience. There’s lots of money and pride at stake, and even though I should, I don’t really understand the business side of television. Even after 12 years. I’m just not good with numbers.

My favourite thing in the world

Everyone in television gets the ratings through first thing the following morning. How’s that for a quick report card. It’s like having a meeting with your boss every morning where he gives you a score for the previous day. Or an appointment with the doctor for test results - every day. The ratings can mean a great day, a shit day and everything in between. Twice I’ve been known to scream. Once I just had to jump up and down. Thank god they’ve never made me cry. That would be a sign that work/life balance is completely out of whack.

The good thing about the start of ratings is that it means all the best shows will be back on your television. It means we all need to get accustomed with the new schedules. I like to sit with the new TV guide for a while, caress it, get to know it intimately. I need to know it back to front so that I can organise my week. And this has nothing to do with work, I just need to know what nights and times I need to be home, and also so that I can lock in all my IQ programs. This is a beautiful, fulfilling experience whenever news schedules start up. It’s a spiritual experience for me.

Toddlers & Tiara's is brilliant!

I do dream of being a television programmer. Yes, there would be a completely dedicated Law & Order channel. That goes without saying. There would be a channel that just replayed all the major swimming championships back to back starting with the ’78 World Championships where Tracey Wickham dominated. And I would definitely have a channel of Toddlers & Tiara’s, that would be just brilliant. I would also have a channel that played all Madonna’s film clips in chronological order, and on rotation. I would also bring back Gretel Killen to host a channel like Oprah does in the US. I love Gretel and miss her terribly from my screen. She’s the smartest, funniest woman in television. No one else seems to like my ideas strangely, probably too niche.

I love you Gretel

I also think there should be a new reality program about television publicists. Mainly because it would have to be one of the weirdest jobs in the world. I’d want it to be a warts and all, fly-on-the-wall, documentary style program that showed the good, the bad, and the ugly. It would be hysterical! It would be an absolute ratings smash. But I don’t think the audience would believe it was real. The life of a publicist is completely different to the cliché. I wish it were all cocktail-sipping parties and glamorous photoshoots. In reality that’s about 1%. The rest of the time its United Nations diplomacy and Tony Robbins motivational speaking.

So enjoy the return of all your favourite programs and please try all the new stuff, especially if it’s Australian. This is to not only to keep me in a job but also because we are the best in the world at it. But I’m biased, you be the judge.

And if you want know what I want you to be watching follow my Twitter. That’s where I do all my spruiking.

The Golden Globe goes to... the PUBLICISTS!

Golden Globes – LOVE THEM! Not just because they are the trashiest of the award ceremonies but because its an all in brawl of both TV and movie types. Award ceremonies are huge for me. They combine so many of things I love – red-carpet, frocks, celebs, acceptance speeches, extreme campness and the potential for disaster. Also, in a professional sense, they are incredibly voyeuristic for me.

While watching award shows like the Golden Globes I can’t help but think of the army of publicists frantically working their headsets and Blackberry’s behind the scenes. It is the publicist that makes sure it all runs smoothly. I’vebeen a publicist for far too many years now but I still get off on the buzz of a red-carpet. Don’t be fooled though by the glitz and glam – its hard, sweaty work for the publicist. While craziness swirls all around them, the publicist will be rock solid, cool, calm and collected in the middle of it all.

There were a couple of publicists from last nights show that I am wearing a glittered arm band for today as a showing of support and solidarity. Can you imagine what it would be like to be Ricky Gervais’s publicist? You’d be so excited your client got the top gig, you’ve worked hard on pre-press, you’re full of nervous energy in anticipation of the opening monologue – 10 mins later you realise you won’t be welcome at any after-parties. While he was much-loved online and by the viewers, you could feel the pain in the room. When a celeb is that controversial you just know their publicist is taking some very unpleasant calls – especially from the Scientologists!

One of the publicist’s jobs is to manoeuvre (push, shove, drag, road block) the celeb down the red-carpet. When Helena Bonham Carter’s publicist first saw her outfit their heart would have stopped. Not because of its hideousness but because of the work it would mean for them. Red-carpets are easy if no one is interested in your celeb. They are a NIGHTMARE when everyone wants a chat. Every photographer, every camera crew, every journo would have wanted a piece of HBC on that carpet. That sort of attention would send a publicist straight for their hip-flask.

The Glee cast cleaned up! They will have partied their arses off! Never, ever is this a good thing for a publicist. All those far too young and far too attractive starlets running around drinking, pashing, falling over, flashing – god help them if they end up with Charlie Sheen. The publicist will have spent the whole night trying to prevent anyone getting a photo worthy of page 1 of the National Enquirer. Red-carpet coverage = Good. After-party drunk, nude photos = Lindsay Lohan.

Chris Colfer before after-partying with Charlie Sheen

So when you next watch an awards ceremony please take a moment to celebrate the publicists. They are the brains of the operation, the oil in the cogs, the icing on the cake. They are so rarely acknowledged but awards shows could not survive without them – if I do say so myself. No publicist means everyone looks look shit, wanders around aimlessly, gets drunk and passes out in front of the photographers – just like at the Brownlow.