I'm here tonight with a special guest, Cheryl, who just survived the mammoth task of her last album. Hi, Cheryl, and welcome to C*E*L*E*B.
It's a pleasure being here, mainly because it counts as community service.
How would you illustrate your music to somebody who'd never experienced it before?
It is hard to think there is somebody so poor! I would say that my songs are like a cloying honey cupcake with a stunning inner core made of glitter.
Do you know Ann Taylor (a former massage therapist, now a clinical coder) from West Covina?
No, I don't, but my cousin has been briefly betrothed to her. Then there was some commotion about some licentious photographs sent by phone to the wrong people, so their engagement came to a hasty finale.
Cheryl, you are also well known for your singular requests when staying in hotels. Is it true? Can you explain us why and maybe make an example of something you usually ask?
Everybody should learn that Cheryl needs what Cheryl needs, and she always gets it. Whether it's a kitten or platinum-plated underwear.
Could you suggest a remedy for back pain?
In case of back pain, mix two parts of beer, three parts of ground coffee and some mayonnaise. Apply this mixture on your back and your knees.
Cheryl, your zodiac sign is Cancer. May I read you your horoscope?
You bet your boots! But I don't believe in zodiacal balderdash.
You will meet a sloshed stranger from Seattle, a science technician named Timothy with both ears on the same side of the head. He will approach you with a map allegedly signed by the vicious pirate Sir Henry Morgan, that places his stash in a desolated dungeon in Arizona. Don't follow him home!
Shite! You are spot on!
An imaginary character you think to as a part of your life?
Goethe, because of our innate stylishness.
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