"I think there should be a movie about my life and you should play me as the younger Farrah and I'll play myself as the older Farrah. I think this could be a huge blockbuster!"

—Farrah Fawcett cornered Heather Locklear at the Governor's Ball to propose a project for the two of them. Heather smiled and then made a speedy getaway.

The 58th Annual Emmy Awards may now be a thing of the past, but they ain't really over until Billy Masters has his say. Now, you know how I hate to start off on a negative note, but it may be time for Joan Rivers to do arrivals at the Academy’s old age home. The flubs came fast and furious this year. Mariska Hargitay said that she just gave birth to her first child, and Auntie Joan's follow-up was, "Which birth was harder—this one or the first one?" She credited Christopher Meloni with being on Law and Order: CSI! She told a bewildered Portia de Rossi that she loved her on Outrageous Development. Then, in the middle of the Portia interview, Joan saw Heidi Klum and Seal and dragged them up onto the podium, virtually pushing Portia down the stairs as if to say, "Oh, look—better people!" When Barry Manilow introduced Joan to his goddaughter, Rivers replied, "Thank God—I thought you were gonna say she was your date!" And then there was poor Lisa Edelstein, who Joan insisted on complimenting for her fabulous work on House. Except La Rivers directed this praise to Lisa's mother and then turned to Lisa and said, "And who are you?" Yeah, Joan's a big fan!

Let's go right to worst dressed—Candice Bergen. Candy, Candy, Candy—where did it all go wrong? Maybe after spending the first 70 years of her life having sibling rivalry with a puppet, she just gave up. I don't know where she got this ill-fitting ensemble or who taught her to clomp around like a Clydesdale.

Best dressed? Dame Helen Mirren. Gorgeous. Regal. Elegant. And, most importantly, age appropriate. Here's a lady not trying to look like she's 20. I was surprised to learn that she's only 61—a dozen years younger than Joan Collins, who also was stunning (once you got past all that hair). Incidentally, Collins skipped talking to Rivers and Seacrest on the red carpet and went directly to Access Hollywood. Why? That show set up a chair, fan, and awning, knowing that divas don't do well in direct sunlight.

Conan O'Brien did a great job entertaining the capacity audience. Some may have been offended by his spoof of Lost that featured a plane crash, but I have three words for you—get over it. The schtick about Tom Cruise being in the closet got the biggest roar (even though we all saw it coming). The gag having Bob Newhart locked in a chamber with only three hours' worth of air was hysterical—the joke being that if the show ran long, Bob was a goner. What made this work was the elder comedian's exquisite timing and mugging. Classic.

It was nice for Megan Mullally to win one last award for Will & Grace. But here's a little scoop for you—we have not seen the last of Karen Walker. Meg told me that she's gotten permission from the powers that be to do occasional skits featuring the inebriated heiress on her daily gabfest (W&G creators have to sign off on all material). Something to look forward to.

Now, this is hard for me. For months, I've vehemently insisted that Dick Clark is really dead. I insinuated on New Year's Eve that his appearance was either pre-taped or perhaps he was replaced by an animatronic figure, like in the Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Disneyland. But I cannot deny that he was at the Emmys—because I was right there. Granted, he didn't walk. Granted, he was kinda rolled onto the stage. But what you folks at home don't know is that, prior to his appearance, paramedics raced by me in the lobby. Well, I call them paramedics—Clark may well call them his "ride.” Then, moments before he went onstage, the lights in the building flickered. Far be it from me to imply that Dick had to be plugged in before his appearance.

There was lots of anticipation surrounding the Aaron Spelling tribute, and no one could top the appearance of the original Charlie's Angels—Kate Jackson, Farrah Fawcett, and Jaclyn Smith. You can't deny that two of 'em are as nutty as fruitcakes. But I gotta hand it to them—the trio got through the live tribute without incident. I'm told that Henry Winkler has snagged the threesome to take part in one of those reunion shows where the cast sits and reminisces. Look for this to hit the airwaves sometime during November sweeps. Although Cheryl Ladd will join the original trio, I wouldn't be sitting by the phone if I were the Hack. And Tanya Roberts might be better off waiting for a reunion with the zebra from Sheena!

On my way back from the men's room, I literally ran into Kathy Griffin. She happily introduced me to her date, Major Todd from Iraq. When I told Kath that I loved her appearance on The View two weeks ago, she pulled me aside. "Let me tell you something—Barbara Walters couldn't have been nicer. I was shocked. She played along during the interview, she was fun, and she seemed to really like me. Afterwards, she took my hand, looked me in the eye, and said, 'It was our honor to have you on—come back any time.'" I was quick to point out that Barbara said the same words to Debbie Matenopoulos and Star Jones Reynolds—and we know how often they've been back!

Although it was lovely to catch up with Paula Abdul at the awards themselves, it was even lovelier to spend some down time with her at the fabu HBO party and introduce her to my erstwhile husband, porn legend Kurt Young (a photo op if ever there was one). I was happy that she was going on about how nice I am, how friendly we've always been, how we respect each other, how we admire the other's work, etc., etc., etc. Then she added, "But you've got to come up to the house more often—it's been so long since you've been over." You know how long it's been? I've never been over! Maybe she thought I was Corey Clark.

Could it be that I had a close encounter with the subject of one of my most notorious blind items? I certainly caught him off guard with my particularly chipper greeting, and he certainly had on significantly more clothing than in those scandalous photos (and yet less than some felt appropriate). He stopped, chatted for as brief a time as he dared, and then nervously made his exit—as if being exiled.

When I have twice as much gossip as can fit on this page, it's time for me to end my annual Emmys wrap-up. Billy has spoken. Well, I've spoken as much as I dare in print. If you head over to www.billymasters.com, you'll see that the online version of this column is twice as long and includes stuff too hot for the edition in your local gay rag. Since I stuck with the Emmys this week, I'll probably have twice as many stories to choose from next week! But I'll still find time to answer your questions. Just drop a note to me at billy@billymasters.com and I promise to get back to you before I go to Paula's house "again"! Until next time, remember, one man's filth is another man's bible.