Epstein Secrets

his 460 foot, "Rising Sun". He spent a=quiet night with Robbie Robertson, Carol Bayer Sager and Jimmy !ovine. Lastly, orbiting among the stars were George Lucas and new wife Mellody Hob=on, Stephanie Seymour and Peter Brant, Russel Simmons and L.A. Reid wishin= all a Happy New Year until next year in the hot

d the richer went nuts. Everyone sang at the top of their lungs =nd danced on the tables for an hour. Simultaneously, Dasha and Roman Abramovich and Len Blavatnik were celebrati=g in frigid Moscow and Ronald Perlman, recovering from back surgery was in=New York City at a neighborhood restaurant. Roman and Ron

upset at the Kodak Theater." Shear panic radiates from my every pore as he says, "I am joking." It's like color war at summer camp. woody Allen and George Lucas tell me they are no longer members of the Academy because pitting artists against each other to determine the quality of their work is insane. They a

gorilla refuses to let me on the elevator until I spot Benny Medina. Once on, I see the radiant Jennifer Lopez in the corner and remind her we met on Len Blavatnik’s yacht in Cannes. She graciously pretends to know me. Her manager, Benny Medina is kicking me. I slip into Colin Firth’s booth by the front bar to ha

upset at the Kodak Theater." Shear panic radiates from my every pore as he says, "I am joking." It's like color war at summer camp. Woody Allen and George Lucas tell me they are no longer members of the Academy because pitting artists against each other to determine the quality of their work is insane. They a

gorilla refuses to let me on the elevator until I spot Benny Medina. Once on, I see the radiant Jennifer Lopez in the corner and remind her we met on Len Blavatnik’s yacht in Cannes. She graciously pretends to know me. Her manager, Benny Medina is kicking me. I slip into Colin Firth’s booth by the front bar to ha

onceded. The ballots are counted, the party invites are out and still the feelings are raw. Nominees are exhausted from campaigning. Woody Allen and George Lucas tell me they are no longer members of the Academy because pitting artists against each other to determine the quality of their work is insane. They a

Max Award. As I come in, a 400-pound gorilla refuses to let me on the elevator. Once on, I see Jennifer Lopez in the corner and remind her we met on Len Blavatnik’s yacht in Cannes. She graciously pretends to remember me. Her manager, Benny Medina, is kicking me. I slip into Colin Firth’s booth to have a téte-a-