Wednesday, August 19, 2009

At least Ferguson had a cockney dinosaur puppet afterward.

Muffin Uptown, you might remember, has been living in New York City since the first week of June, and yesterday she and her boyfriend had tickets for the taping of last night's show.

I assume that had Mr. Letterman asked her up on stage and quizzed her as to the origins of her awesomeness, the child would have afterward dropped a dime to call me with a report. Since I got no such call, my main concern last night was to watch the show and scour every audience shot in the hope of glimpsing a Muffin elbow or wisp of strawberry-blonde hair.

I didn't see her anywhere. It was just like not winning the lottery.

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