This article is part of the SA Celebrity Stalker series.
Our dedicated spotters are determined to lift the rock of privacy and expose the celebrities as they scurry for cover like so many tiny crabs.
Spotted Mr. Martin basking in the glow of his own magnificence. Such a radiant smile, we couldn't help but stand in awe. He outstretched his arms to extend his aura for us while yelling "I'm magnificent!" Total charmer.
Huge shocker! Witnessed Cameron get run over by a bus. She was super rude after the bus driver backed the rare tires off her torso and apologized. She even refused to sign autographs as she hobbled away like some spoiled diva.
Matthew was going nuts at the gym, working a punching bag like a mad men, pounding it until his fists were raw and bloody. Much sweatier in person. Grunts a lot.
Saw Gary Busey in the park cutting off his sleeves with gardening shears. Looked like he nicked an artery, but kept going and just licked all the blood up. Total commitment to summer.
Spied actor William Hurt being a boring idiot, reading a book and drinking coffee. I yelled "entertain me for once" and he got up and started singing and dancing. It bored me even more, so I just walked away.
Gross! Saw a Skeet Ulrich leering at me from across the bar. He just wouldn't stop staring. Finally, he tells me my eye is bleeding. It was, profusely, but that's no excuse to stare, creepo.
I spotted Curb-star Jeff Garlin vigorously scratching his rump against a tree. After that he laid down next to a big rock and fell asleep.
Saw Chris Brown being his cute self, biting women, throwing objects, screaming obscenities. Glad to see he's not letting all the bad press get to him. What a sweetheart!
Philip Seymour Hoffman
Angry as hell, because Hoffman cut in front of me at the Shakey's buffet on Sunset and had the nerve to scoop up the last of the mashed potatoes even though it's obvious I wanted mashed potatoes and even had a large mashed potatoes-shaped void on my plate.
Never in my wildest dreams: Spotted either Eli Roth or an African American woman running toward the bus stop with some urgency. Didn't have my glasses, can't be certain.
Had the luck of sharing a flight with Ryan Gosling. He was super nervous and biting his nails nonstop. By the time we landed at LAX he had a bloody stump where his hand used to be. Very nervous guy.
Bumped into Andy Dick, who was covered with beetles. I asked him what was wrong, and he very politely told me he got Dutch elm disease from fucking a tree. Surprisingly nice and down-to-earth.
Sometimes I dream that I'm sitting in the back of the defunct Weinermobile as it careens driverless down the highway. At first I thought this was symbolic of the powerlessness I feel in life, but then I realized it's actually the Weinermobile's dream of being able to drive again.
Three years ago, when we were burying my uncle, Cleaver and some gross lady dog (Solstice???) showed up at the cemetery and starting going at it really loudly. It ruined everything and we had to have a "re-do" the next day and it cost a fortune. I've hated him ever since for that.
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