This is my sweetie pie, Jacob; I hired him one day just on appearance--shallow, I know, but it was one of the better appointments I made in my life. New in town at the time, he was a hit of the highest order in a town that values blonds more than cocaine. We had a great time with my fondest memories of our nights out at my boss's Studio 54 parties at Level night club. One day he showed up on the doorstep of my townhouse; he had had enough abuse from some schmuck and we immediately put him up in a guestroom. Jacob was one of the few boys who understood KiKi, and Kiki loved him enough to dance the dog tango for him on our patio. Those were glorious day....not to say that glory doesn't nip at out heels regularly....but they were great.

Jacob lives in Germany now and sent this facebook message today: "Thanks for the blog. It keeps me very well informed, although I would like to know more drama."

The problem is that, although I am usually at the epicenter of drama, gossip, and any other scurrilous information, but I just can't write it out. I learned that a long time ago. Perhaps I can make a code that I pass out to the right people. I can report--since it is town gossip today--that Leopoldo and I were very, very, very bad last night, and in public. It involved a boy from Nicaragua who was vacationing on South Beach for the weekend. From that point, I can go no further. My repeated requests to The Pope for an indulgence have gone unanswered. No problem...we are going out with Henrietta tonight and she sells them from her purse.