With all the stars in Park City, Utah to do cocaine and watch indie movies at the Sundance Film Festival, the gossip hounds are parked around town getting all sorts of useless trivia. Like this little bit about Teri Hatcher:
[Hatcher] staged some interference when her new director boyfriend, Stephen Kay, tried to watch the Saints-Bears game at Hypnotiq. Her method of distraction? Kicking off her shoes and straddling him. The Desperate Housewife also dragged her beau along for swag shopping, including a stop at the Restylane booth in the Marquee suite, where she demanded more than one gift certificate for the wrinkle smoother.
Teri: "Stop watching football and get me more wrinkle smoother!" Stephen: "Oh, anything you say, dahling! Football's such a dreary bore without your varicose-veined thighs around me!"
I love the NFL playoffs, but how can you say no to a sex cougar like Teri Hatcher? She's my dream girl. In fact, I have a letter I wrote to myself 15 years ago that I always keep on my person:
Dude, definitely try to have sex with Teri Hatcher. She's the hottest thing around. Why doesn't Lois & Clark give us more cleavage? Stupid ABC.
Oh, wait, I forgot this part:
NOTE TO SELF: This letter rendered moot if she becomes a disgusting washed-up hag with a plastic-y face.