I get ten million e-mails about Danny Roberts a day, and no, he hasn't fled our floundering shores, bought the farm, nor ceased to warm my cockles, thanks for asking. Rest assured, he's still kicking, and I continue to adore him. I just took a little breather from writing about him. You know. Personal reasons.

Don't judge me. Have you never loved?

Okay, "love" might be too powerful a word. I love Danny, say, more than Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, but less than our Lord and Savior.

Speaking of Willem Dafoe:

Lucky Dafoe-spotting J. B. writes: "Please use your investigative powers for good and find out what Willem Dafoe was doing in lower Queen Anne! I have two confirmed reports by employees of Easy Street Records that he was 'hanging out' and meandering around lower Q. A. Said employees described him as 'low-key.'"

My powers? For good? What a novel approach. I'll bite:

"Hi, Adrian, it's Carla. Remember me? DJ MC Queen Lucky? And now one of the owners of Re-bar? I saw a celebrity yesterday. I was walking into Larry's Market and heard the Real Change guy behind me blathering, 'Hey man, you're great, I love your work.... I can't think of anything you've been in, but I love ya, man!' and I turned to look into the eyes of Willem Dafoe. He's scrumptious! He browsed the deli department and bought some bulk food items, but I didn't see exactly what. I lost him after that."

Stars seeing stars. That's what it's all about here at Celebrity I Saw U.

So, J. B., I suspect that Willem is in town to purchase nonspecific bulk deli items and records, and to be, in general, "low-key."

Picture it: Pike Place Market, Dennis Miller, and somebody's mom (who's visiting from Minnesota). Mr. Miller was reportedly dressed tres casual in a big down "marshmallow man" jacket and jeans. Too casual, perhaps? Quoth Minnesota Mom: "No, that's not Dennis Miller. He's way too scruffy to be a celebrity."

Picture it: the infamous, venerable carnival of perversion known as the Exotic Erotic Ball, held at Seahawks Stadium last weekend. Let your imagination go wild! Now cut that sexy image down by two-thirds, and shove in me and my boyfriend dressed in matching Halloween devil-drag, chilling backstage with erotic, exotic, and ballsy '80s pop moment Morris Day and his posse. There you go. (Imagination is so much sexier sometimes, isn't it?)

adrian@thestranger.comDafoe, dennis miller, and Fantasy vs. Morris Day