This is an ongoing fictional piece that I've decided to continue just to spite people that hate this kind of stuff.

If you want to read the beginning of it, start here.

I have this weird obsession with Ann Curry: news anchor for NBC's Today Show.

It's not a sexual obsession or anything, though I will admit that Ms. Curry is easy on the eyes, it's more of an infinite measure of comfort that I get anytime I see her on the air.  It's almost as if Ann Curry sends signals to my brain that tell me everything is going to be alright.  She compassionately reports devastating stories to the masses, but at the end of the segment the world still keeps on turning simply because Ann told me so.  

I REALLY wanted to be BFF with Ann Curry.  And what with losing both Drew Barrymore and Tina Fey, I had no one to talk to about life's problems.  I just knew that if I could arrange some kind of 'chance' meeting with Ann I would woo her with my wit and charm and we'd be making margarita plans by the end of the day.

Being a somewhat notable director has a lot of perks; one of those perks is getting access behind the scenes of The Today Show by promising to cast the program director's cousin as an extra in my next film.  A hundred dollar bill helps get Ann Curry's itinerary from one of the knowledgeable janitors.

I had it all planned out.  Ann would be going into a wardrobe change after her next segment.  If, at that moment, I happened to be between the set and wardrobe I could accidentally bump into her with a lukewarm cup of coffee and profusely apologize for the accident, casually introduce myself as one of the most important directors of our time, then insist on buying her dinner to make up for it.  (Hey I know it's totally cliche, but what were you expecting?  The Pick Up Artist?)

She was in my sight. I paused for just a few seconds to check the coffee again, then made my move.  Sadly I was halted abruptly by none other than Open Salon's own marytkelly.

Those of you that read the last entry in my adventures in Hollywood land may have noticed that she signed up to be a straight woman messenger girl for the pink mafia.  I could only deduce Mary was either at the NBC studios because she had a message for me from the pink mafia, or her problem with stalking Matt Lauer had reached an all time high.  Sadly the former was the case.

My face fell as I watched Ann disappear behind the wardrobe door while Mary gave me the low down on my plans for the rest of the day.  I just so happened to visit The Today Show on the same day as everyone's favorite beauty queen with a couple extra chromosomes: Miss California.  It was my job to somehow lure her to dinner with me so that we could ruin her idiotic credibility by make her look like a lesbian.

Though I was dejected about the whole Ann Curry thing, I did decide that this would be a rather entertaining way to spend the rest of my day.  I waved goodbye to Mary and wished her luck with telling Courtney Love that she couldn't be a part of our club for 50th time.

Miss California had just wrapped up with her imbecilic interview about how she was robbed of the crown because she's ignorant and all that good stuff.  She was headed straight for me.

I decided to do what any good director does when they are trying to get something out of someone who wants a lot of attention: I acted like I was a huge fan.

Another great thing about being a director is that, unless you're huge like Stephen Spielberg, normal people usually don't recognize you.  And Miss California could hardly be considered of normal intelligence.  She had no clue who I was, let alone that she was standing in front of an evil lesbian.

I introduced myself and talked about how much I just loved her courage on her stance and her witty use of the term Biblically correct in place of politically correct.  In fact, I loved her so much I wanted her to star in my new romantic comedy staring Mel Gibson.

Mel's character would be hiring her as a prostitute, but then they'd fall in love over their mutual bond of bigotry only to be thwarted by Miss California's (Whose name I still did not bother to ask) pimp Michael Richards.

She was thrilled at the idea of working with Mel.  

"He's so spiritual and not to mention hunky, if you know what I mean."  She said with a wink and a nudge.

I gave an all knowing smile and chuckle as I invited her to dinner to discuss the rest of the plot.  I suggested we go to Henrietta Hudson's for dinner and drinks.  It's a very openly lesbian New York joint, but luckily California didn't notice the purposeful misspelling of 'bar and girl'.  Sad though, she does have a witty way with words.  She might have appreciated it had she not been so closed minded.  

It was easy to keep her from noticing all of the girl on girl action.  Any time she would start to look around I would simply pull out my iPhone and show her pictures of me and random hot guys that I've worked with.  The problem was keeping her from noticing the obnoxious pictures being taken of us by the pink mafia mole.

Who the hell thought it would be a good idea to have Wanda Sykes take all the pictures?

Anyway I just made sure to innocently touch her hand or wipe away some food particles from her mouth while making remarks about hot guys so she wouldn't grow suspicious. After about an hour Wanda gave me the thumbs up to let me know that she'd gotten the goods and I finally was able to end the charade.

I motioned for her to stick around for one more before telling Miss California that I needed to call it a night. I took down her information then leaned in as if I were going for a hug before planting one right on her lips.  She looked at me quizzically, but I just told her it's a Hollywood thing and she got that dopey grin on her face again.

In the morning I woke to my cell phone ringing off the hook with calls of congratulations.  The pictures were all over the TV, internet and newspapers.  I put my congratulatory call from Charlize Theron on hold so I could take one from an unknown number.

It was The Today Show, they wanted an interview.  And as a stipulation would grant me full access to Ann Curry.