From the Jan 17 – Jan 23, 2002 issue

Columns

Celebrity I Saw U

by Adrian Ryan

So, that redheaded scamp Conan O'Brien made an honest woman out of his lovely ad exec fiancée Liza Powel last Saturday--and he did it right here in Seattle! Now, I know what you're thinking. Conan O'Brien? Isn't he GAY? Well it appears not.... In any event, it all went down at 3 p.m. sharp in a good Catholic ceremony at St. James Cathedral on First Hill. The whole affair was a bit on the clandestine side, and security at the event was tighter than a new bride (no offense, Liza), but that didn't deter every news crew in town and several would-be paparazzi from lingering outside.

An anonymous insider at the cathedral assured me that the whole affair was "quite tasteful and lovely," although I wouldn't know. My invitation seemed to have gotten lost in the mail. In any event, ever the philanthropist, Mr. O'Brien has personally requested that in lieu of gifts a generous donation be made to: Adrian Ryan, c/o The Stranger, Seattle. Honest!

Well, shucks Daisy! What's the only thing more fabulous than a famous TV star getting hitched? Why, stumbling across your favorite hunky childhood TV star's steaming naked flesh in a public sauna! Picture it: the downtown YMCA, steam, heat, naked flesh, and star-spotter "PF" trying to keep his eyes on the horizon while sitting next to his personal childhood lust icon/masturbatory fantasy, The Dukes of Hazzard's Tom Wopat! Commenting on the sweat-drenched dream encounter, "PF" gives a lusty, "Mmmm." Tom's longtime girlfriend is a Seattle resident, which accounts for his presence in the skanky, if recently refurbished, downtown Y.

Über-sexy Real Worlder update: Now that the proverbial gay cat is out of the proverbial gay bag... a certain scrumptious auburn-haired wonder has been spotted everywhere except where God INTENDED him to be--in my bed dressed as a Roman gladiator. Just this week a legion of lucky, lucky bastards stumbled across his smileyness sauntering hand-in-hand up Third Avenue with boyfriend Paul, buying a case of Corona at the Queen Anne QFC (mmmmm!), checking out the window menu at Cafe Septieme on Broadway, and my favorite: jogging on the waterfront amid a squealing throng of teenyboppers. "I couldn't 'decipher' anything through the baggy gym shorts," claims Danny-spotting La Pistola. "Basically he just looks too skinny. That boy needs to EAT--put THAT in your column!"

You got it, baby! Danny: EAT something, already!

celebisawu@thestranger.com