Politically (and Financially) Incorrect: Bill Maher got me started [classic article]

As first seen in Green magazine/Bankrate.com

I have been a self-employed criminal defense and family attorney since I was 26. It hasn’t always been easy; I have been known to get all dolled up to hang homemade flyers in honky-tonk bars, had a paper airplane fleet created out of utility shut-off notices, put up with people saying, “Why doesn’t she get a regular job, just go work for somebody?”

But budding stars must march to the beat of a different drummer. It’s the unique experiences in life that make you fascinating. For two years, I had been trying to get on Politically Incorrect with Bill Maher. Let’s just say that I personally know a couple of people who have been on, and thought, “If those retards could get on . . . “

I found out that they were having auditions in my city, Baltimore. First, you had to send in postcards to get picked. I went to my gay friend’s freaky fetish salon and got a bunch of postcards that I knew would get noticed. They called me in for an audition and told me to come prepared to discuss a controversial topic. I recently won a pageant devoted to promoting awareness of domestic violence. I am Miss Maryland Royalty. So, I brought my crown and sash, wore a beautiful Italian suit, high heels and stockings, and met Bill Maher. The day before, Colorado had declined to indict the Ramseys, so pageants became my controversial topic.

Fifty contestants got narrowed to twelve, then four. They picked the winner back in Los Angeles — me! I was to be a “Citizen Panelist,” and I am now good friends with the runner-up, Catherine Hudson-Frey.

On Tuesday, Nov. 2, they flew me out on the red-eye. They taped the Tuesday and Wednesday show then. Judge Joe Brown asked me to dinner, but canceled at the last minute.

I shared doggie pics with Judd Nelson backstage.

Peter Frampton is a very nice gentleman.

Vicki Lawrence has some very serious social and personality problems. They had to physically push her into shaking my hand, since she wouldn’t speak to me. She didn’t know a thing about me. But right before I was to go on stage, she asked ,”Are you getting real scared to go and talk in front of all those people?” She didn’t know that I’ve been in front of audiences since I was 4. I hustled her and said, “Oh, I’m real scared to talk in front of all of them people!”

I was warehoused at the Wyndham Bel Age; the other guests were treated to the Beverly Hills Hotel. I don’t like slights like that; I was raised to know the difference. The hotel has seen better days, (like in the Twenties) and the service required a little hate missive on my legal letterhead upon my return. One of the highlights occurred when I placed one foot into my bubble-bath. Suddenly, the P.A. system blared, “Please cease all activities. There is a fire in the building. Please use the exit nearest you, but do not use the elevators.” I grabbed a towel, and deliberated whether I felt like dying in a towering inferno. I picked up the phone and inquired about the emergency at the front desk. They responded reassuringly, “Fire? Hmmm. I’m not aware of any fire. Let me find out and call you back.” I’m still waiting for that call.

The actual money part of my appearance is kind of interesting, but I can’t recommend TV appearances as an investment. I was paid $500 for my show. Well, not really — Uncle Sam, Cousin California and I have some settling up to do, since Politically Incorrect filed W-2’s instead of 1099’s. I spent money on my outfit and the girl-cosmetic thing, and I paid for my own meals.

I had hoped that perhaps some clients would surface; after the show, I did get some kooks calling for legal services, but none who came up with actual cash. Then I was thinking that the leather skirt I wore might turn up potential sugar-daddies (the polite term is “sponsors”). Nope. Hollywood is a young person’s game.

Instead, I have been inundated with tape copy requests, all at my expense, of course. When I look at my latest long-distance phone bill involving the hoopla surrounding my appearance, I want to sell my dog’s plasma as a get-rich-quick scheme.

So all this is kinda sorta why I tore onto the stage like a tornado — when Bill Maher shook my hand, he said, “Easy baby!” But I made my points all the same — about the need for stricter air-safety regulations and other issues of the day. And despite the finances, the failure of dates to materialize, the crummy hotel — I had my unique experience, and it was worth it.

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