the writing and photography of Neil Kramer

Category: Gossip and Celebrities (Page 1 of 5)

Charlie Sheen’s Daughters Unhurt in LA Car Crash

My mother and I are watching Access Hollywood when this story comes on:

Male host:  “Charlie Sheen and Denise Richards had quite a scary night.”

Image of a crushed car near PCH.

Male host:   “This is the mangled car after it was hit by another car during an accident in Malibu.  Inside the car, were the Sheens two daughters, driven by their nanny. But don’t worry, the two beautiful girls are both fine!”

Female host:   “What a relief!”

I turn to my mother.

Neil:  “What about the nanny?”

Mother:  “No one cares about the nanny.”

Is the nanny in the hospital?  Is she still alive?  Has she been fired?  I searched online and cannot find any information about the nanny.   Is my mother right?  Why doesn’t anyone care about the nanny?

The Pure Imagination of the Golden Ticket

Greetings to you, the lucky finder of this golden ticket, from Mr. Willy Wonka!  I shake you warmly by the hand!  Tremendous things are in store for you! Many wonderful surprises await you!  For now, I do invite you to come to my factory and be my guest for one whole day — you and all others who are lucky enough to find my Golden Tickets.  I, Willy Wonka, will conduct you around the factory myself, showing you everything that there is to see, and afterwards, when it is time to leave, you will be escorted home by a procession of large trucks.  These trucks, I can promise you, will be loaded with enough delicious eatables to last you and your entire household for many years.  If, at any time thereafter, you should run out of supplies, you have only to come back to the factory and show this Golden Ticket, and I shall be happy to refill your cupboard with whatever you want.  In this way, you will be able to keep yourself supplied with tasty morsels for the rest of your life.  But this is by no means the most exciting thing that will happen on the day of your visit.  I am preparing other surprises that are even more marvellous and more fantastic for you and for all my beloved Golden Ticket holders — mystic and marvelous surprises that will entrance, delight, intrigue, astonish, and perplex you beyond measure. In your wildest dreams you could not imagine that such things could happen to you! Just wait and see!  And now, here are your instructions: the day I have chosen for the visit is the first day in the month of February.  On this day, and on no other, you must come to the factory gates at ten o’clock sharp in the morning.  Don’t be late!  And you are allowed to bring with you either one or two members of your own family to look after you and to ensure that you don’t get into mischief.  One more thing — be certain to have this ticket with you, otherwise you will not be admitted.

(Signed) Willy Wonka

(from Roald Dahl’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory)

Who has never hoped for that Golden Ticket that will gain him entrance to the places of his wildest dreams? 

On Saturday, I was walking along the street in Long Beach when I notice that a new candy store had opened down the block.  It was one of those upscale candy stores that was geared as much for adults as kids, with a large selection of exotic and nostalgic candies from the past.  Outside the entrance, a few adults were online waiting to get a signed headshot from some “celebrity” who was there to promote the store.   I’m pretty good at recognizing those in the public eye, but I had no idea who the celebrity was at first, even when someone told me that this was “Mike Teavee.” 

“Who?” I wondered. 

Then I saw a poster for the 1971 version of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, and immediately remembered the obnoxious kid in the cowboy outfit, one of the winners of the Golden Ticket to the factory.  Sitting here was Paris Themmen, who played Mike Teavee in the film.  I stood on line.  The woman in front of me was next.  She was thrilled to meet a character from her favorite movie.

“Can you please write “To Meg, Martin, and the two girls — Mike Tevee says, “I love TV, Willy Wonka Candy, and I love YOU!”

The actor quickly scribbled the message.  It seemed as if he’d done this countless times before at other candy stores and movie conventions.

Next, It was my turn.  I had never stood in line to get a signature before… well, other than for Crazy Aunt Purl’s book signing in LA, who then promptly stopped coming to this site after I told her to sign my book “Neilochka, I’d knit you a pair of socks anytime, anywhere.”

“Hey, how ya doing?” asked Paris Themmen, the former Mike Teavee.  I’m a big fan of the original Willy Wonka, and the books of Roald Dahl, but I wasn’t really prepared for this random meeting with the former child star. He seemed like a cool guy, and seeing that I was a little down in the dumps over things with Sophia, I saw this as a pick-me-up.

“Uh, great,” I said.  “Thanks for coming here.”

“What would you like me to write for you?” he asked.

I really had no idea.

The result:

After he handed me his signed photo, some pretty girl handed me a free “Willy Wonka” brand candy bar.  Now, if I were Mike Teavee or a character in Willy Wonka, I probably would have ripped open the packaging to see if there was a Golden Ticket inside.  Unfortunately, my first destination was to read the back of the wrapper for the nutritional information, where I discovered that this candy had more saturated fat than a pastrami sandwich at Canter’s Deli. 

“Hell, I should at least try it and see if Willy Wonka would approve.” 

I took one bite of this grainy, milk chocolate pseudo Nestle Crunch bar and I knew immediately that Willy himself would drown the producers of this monstrosity in a vat of chocolate (I later found out that the “Willy Wonka” brand is licensed to Nestle). It tossed most of the candy, which is probably the best thing for my cholesterol.

Besides, there was no Golden Ticket inside.

One day, I’ll get that Golden Ticket.  But it won’t be in a candy bar. 

Thanks for the photo, Paris (Mike Teavee)!

A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month: Lillies of the Valley

The Mattress Expert


With blogs and bloggers becoming more important in the media, it’s become common to hear about a blogger interviewed by the New York Times or chatting on the Today show.  I don’t want to sound like I have sour grapes, but my opportunities in the “real” media world have been pretty thin.   That’s why I jumped out of my chair on Friday when I received an email from the The Dr. Phil Show. 

The email began —

“My name is Emily and I work with the Senior Producer at the Dr. Phil Show here at Paramount in LA…”

Emily continued on about some post I had written in 2006 about Sophia’s parents getting ripped off at a local mattress store.   She wanted me to call, so we could discuss this post. 

Woo-hoo!  I imagined fame and fortune and everything that goes with it…

But there was one red flag.  The letter was hastily written, with several spelling errors.  Was it spam or just written by  a very busy individual.  I googled Emily and was she legit.   My success was back on track.

I took a deep breath before calling the show.   I was a little anxious… for a very good reason.  I have made fun of Dr. Phil several times on my blog, even mocking his son’s marriage to a Playboy bunny. 

Then I remembered that he is a forgiving guy. 

“Isn’t that what his show is all about?”  I said to myself.

The past is the past.  Especially, if the Dr, Phil show wanted me as a guest.  I imagined an important show about “Senior Citizen Rip-offs” and Dr. Phil calling me from the audience:

Dr. Phil:  “And now, with more ways for seniors to protect themselves against shady mattress store franchises, I’d like to bring up blogger/consumer expert, Neil “Neilochka” Kramer, who writes the hugely-successful blog, Citizen of the Month.”

The female crowd goes wild.  Many lift  banners and signs, ala American Idol, reading “Take My Bra Off, Neilochka!”

With my mind jam-packed with these vivid images, I called up Emily at her Paramount office.  She quickly answered the phone.  She was waiting for my call. 

For me?!   My ego rose to heights never seen before.

“Thank you, thank you for calling back!” she said, somewhat frantically.

Wow!  Was the show that desperate to have me as a guest?   She seemed almost in awe of me, as if she was on the phone with Tom Cruise, begging him to come on the show for an exclusive interview.

“How can I help you?” I asked, speaking in a deeper than usual voice, trying to hide my New York accent.

“I’m so glad I found you,” she continued.  “You see, my boss is in the hospital.  A few days ago, she asked me to buy her a new mattress for her home, so I went to Ortho-mattress, and they ended up ripping me off on the price, not promising what they said, and then charging me too much for shipping.  The mattress cost hundreds of dollars more than she allocated and now I don’t know what to do.  I haven’t told her yet — and I’m afraid of getting fired.  So, I googled mattress rip-offs in Los Angeles and found your blog, and I ‘m hoping that you can give me some advice!”

Advice on mattress rip-offs?!  So you won’t get fired?  This is what the email was all about?!   You mean, Dr. Phil didn’t want me ON the show?!

I had this tight feeling in my stomach.  I remember the first time I felt it.   During grad school, I went out with this cute girl, thinking she wanted to take off my clothes, but all she wanted was to “pick my brain” to learn how she and her boyfriend could find a agent for some sci-fi screenplay they wrote together about a war with some crazed robots.

Luckily, Emily was quite nice, despite her reason for calling me.  We talked for fifteen minutes.  Well, mostly she talked.  She just moved to a new apartment and she couldn’t get fired because she has all these debts, and it wasn’t fair that she got ripped off by the mattress store, and now she has to face the producer, and she is very very nervous…etc.  We chatted like old friends, which was odd considering that she just found my blog on a Google search.  But maybe Dr. Phil only hires very friendly staff members.

I told Emily that mattress stores are the last refuge of sleazy salesmen.  For instance, when you buy a car nowadays, you usually know how much the sticker price is from looking it up on the internet.  Sealy and Serta intentionally name the same mattresses different names depending on the store, so it is difficult for the consumer to do a price check.  I advised Emily to call the Better Business Bureau, the store’s corporate office, and lastly, to contest the charges with her credit card. 

After I hung up the phone, it occurred to me that I actually WAS helpful.  Google DID bring her to the right person to speak to about mattresses.  The internet worked.

Dr. Phil, I’m ready for my close-up!

From the archives:  An even earlier mattress store story.

Will a Tattoo Add to My Worth in Bed?

I saw this intriguing “quiz” titled “What are You Worth in Bed?”

What is your worth?

Normally I ignore these nonsensical quizzes, but who isn’t curious about how much one can get for his sexual services?  During the Eliot Spitzer scandal, there was much talk about the fees paid to his high-priced hooker.   Naturally, many in the blogosphere starting thinking about their own careers.   Would it be more lucrative being a hooker than, for instance,  running an Esty shop selling knitted socks?  Now is your chance to find out.  The quiz has separate questions for both men and women.   Most of the questions in the gigolo-meter are pretty standard for the men — age, height, penis size, but then there are  tricky questions like, “How kinky are you?”  or “What do you like to do after sex — party, spoon, or go to sleep?”

Bad news.  I’m only worth a lousy $918 in bed.  How humiliating.  I’m pretty sure my downfall is this — I’m not dangerous enough.  Women want a sense of danger in their male hooker.  My kinky rating wasn’t very high, and I had to answer “no,” when I was asked if I had any tattoos.  I was actually surprised that there was a question about tattoos.  Would I be worth more in bed if I had a well-placed tattoo?  Do women want a man with a tattoo?

Desperate to up my bed-ability scores, I’ve been thinking about my lack of tattoos all day.

By Jewish law, I’m not supposed to get a tattoo, but many Jews have them anyway.  My main reason for avoiding tattoos all my life is fear.  I used to faint when I received allergy shots.  Uh-oh, by revealing that, I think by worth as a male prostitute just dropped another five bucks.

I actually do find tattoos on a woman as sexy.

Right, men?

But are tattoos as interesting as they used to be?  Tattoos are so common in Los Angeles, that they hardly seem special anymore.  I’m more unique by NOT having a tattoo.

Years ago, tattoos were mostly for sailors and bikers, done by Thai “masseuses”  in seedy port cities too ugly even for the prostitutes.  Tattoos then became hip, and like Wall Street traders moving into the old drug warehouses of the Lower East Side, every upper-middle class white person wanted to be seen as faux- dangerous, at least on weekends.   So, the tattoo became a commodity.

I like tattoos that are visual and colorful.  I hate when the simplicity of body art become pretentious.  Wherever I go to a coffeehouse in Los Angeles, I always bump into someone with a tattoo that requires me to take out my reading glasses.  When did tattoos become so literary?

Is it the influence of celebrities?  (via US Magazine)

Here’s Meagan Fox, star of Transformers, that thought-provoking piece of bot cinema, with a quote from Shakespeare’s King Lear on her left shoulder, “We all laugh at gilded butterflies.”   This is clearly an actress who want to prove that she isn’t just pretty, but a wordsmith — akin to Pamela Anderson putting on a pair of fake librarian glasses to prove that she has an IQ as large as her fake boobs.

Angelina Jolie commemorates the birth of her children with, of course, Roman numerals on her arm.  Do I really have to remember what the roman symbols M and L stand for just to read the dates?!  Why not make it easy for us?

Lindsay Lohan writes “La Bella Vita” on her ass.  For some reason, I don’t believe this is true.

Victroria Posh Beckham, a Kabbalah fanatic, has a Hebrew psalm on her back, translated as “I am my love’s and my love is mine,” which just happens to be the exact same phrase Sophia and I used on the front of our wedding invitations years ago.  Maybe Sophia and I wouldn’t have as many problems today in our marriage if we had just tattooed our wedding vows on our backs instead.

I’ve thought about getting a tattoo for a long.  I’d like for women to see me as a little more dangerous, because I know that while most women want to marry the “nice guy,” they want to f**k the “bad boy” on the kitchen counter.  It’s time to become the bad boy.

This “What Am I Worth in Bed?” quiz has hit me where it hurts — my ego.   I should at least be worth $1000 as a male hooker.  The solution — only a tattoo can help monetize my sex life.

Today, that all changed.  I went down to Venice Beach and got a tattoo of one of my blog posts written directly on my back.

Surprisingly, when I retook the quiz, my worth dropped to $850.

Jennifer Love Hewitt and the Los Angeles Times Ad

As long time readers of this blog know, I’m a stick-in-the-mud about certain things, such as advertising.  I have no problem promoting you or your photography, but it really bugs me to think of myself as advocating something I don’t believe in or know, just because I’m being paid.  Every few weeks, I’m writing another meandering post about putting up advertising, blah blah blah.  I know, it’s getting boring.  It’s just that I consider what’s on the page as ON THE PAGE, and I find it difficult not connecting the two.  A few weeks ago, I made fun of a huge Burger King advertisement on all of the blogs with BlogHer ads.  I like Burger King.  And maybe you do, too.  I just don’t want to see you complaining about the obesity of America when you are pocketing from the promotion. 

There was a lot of buzz yesterday about these photos of Jennifer Love Hewitt that showed up on TMZ, mocking her because the now size 2 actress was supposedly “fat.”  Here’s a photo of her ass. 


Frankly, I would have no problem holding that ass. 

Most of the buzz about this non-topic revolved around the nasty reader comments on the site, like “Looks like somebody needs to do some jogging….BADLY!!” or sleazy TMZ’s sarcastic headlines, making jokes about “I Know Where She ATE last summer.”  Of course, being me, what I most noticed on the site were all the advertisements on the sidebar– from ATT, the Los Angeles Times, and others.   It’s a free country, TMZ is very successful, and it is owned by Time Warner.  It is smart to advertise with TMZ.  However, I now consider ATT and the Los Angeles Times as advocates of unhealhy body images for women, and the mocking of anyone over a size 0.  Hey, they are the ones PAYING for this type of crap to be put on the internet.

So, I don’t feel bad at all saying that the Los Angeles Times hates people with bigger than size zero asses.  “That’s ridiculous!” you might say.  I don’t.  You wanted me to notice your advertisment, LA Times.  And I did.  So, I consider this an endorsement of the content on the page.  I bet you that your ass isn’t as nice as Jennifer’s anyway.

A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month:  Exhibit at the Guggenheim Museum

Britney Spears’ Fans, Come Home!

Have you noticed me acting cocky with you lately?  Like I’m better than you.  Like I spit on your measly little blogs.  There is a reason for that.  My readership has quadrupled lately.  Thousands of new readers have jumped aboard the “Citizen of the Month” train. Even though I’m not sure how to read my Google Analytics, the graphs have gotten so large, I had to buy a 27 inch monitor.  I’ve been trying not to let all this love get to my head, but it is difficult.  I try to be modest, but how can you be when YOU ARE A BLOGGING GOD?

Of course, none of this has to do with my writing.  It has to do with ONE photo of Britney Spears I posted several months ago.  


This photo has been linked and linked and linked countless times.  I have no idea how this occurred, because I’m assuming the photo is on several, much more popular sites.  It is hotlinked on several Myspace accounts.  There are several “Britney Spears” websites that seem to be built around this photo.  So many people come to my blog searching for this photo via Google images that it has made my Sitemeter “free stats” useless, because they only show you the last 100 hits, and all the hits come from Google Images.

As much as I enjoyed the attention, I was starting to feel like a phony.   Do people really love ME, or do they JUST love this photo of Britney Spears not wearing her underwear?  And honesty, if I posted a photo of me not wearing my underwear, would I get the same amount of traffic?  I don’t really care about Britney Spears myself.  Why should I be the beneficiary of this traffic?  Clearly, therapy had made me introspective.

I thought about deleting the photo, just to create a level playing field with the rest of you “mortal” bloggers, but therapy has taught me that I don’t need to be “liked” to be respected.  Then, I had a “light-bulb” moment that would solve the problem in an instant.  What if I just changed the name of the photo on my server, which would — in one swoop — sabotoge every link, hotlink, and even Google Images site itself — because they would all be pointing to an image that has disappeared?!   This blog could go back to what it was intended to be — a place for serious discussion, not a repository of sleazy photos of grade B celebrities.

Yesterday, I changed the name of the photo on my old Britney Spears post from Britney.jpg to Britney2.jpg.   Today, I looked at my stats.   The ploy had worked.  In one day, I lost 2000 readers. 

Yes, I am very smart. 

 Uh —

(sleazy Britney Spears fans — come back.   Help me!  Link to it freely!   Give me back my blogging prowess!   I was a superstar.   Now, I’ve lost my mojo!) 

Star Jones Looks Great!

Star Jones has a new show on Court TV and she’s looking fabulous!  (Do people still say that?  I’m new to the gossip blogging world)

the original Star Jones  12/06

Star Jones after gastric bypass surgery 1/07

Star Jones after facial reconstruction  3/07

Star Jones after “youth-ification” 5/07

Star Jones after extensive “smoothing” and “thin-sculpting” 8/07

How A Man Knows When He is Feeling Depressed


Sorry about all these ranting BlogHer posts lately.   Making I just feel like being passive-aggressive to women in general since I saw the photos from the conference and everyone there looks like they have such nice tits and asses… like you know who with the Russian accent… who really is very blessed with those things… so it’s like you’re all on the same team. 

Since this blog is quickly tranforming from a humor blog into something else, I think I should admit that I’m feeling a little depressed today.  How do I know I’m feeling this way?  Well, I just saw this photo of Jessica Alba a minute ago online and all I could think about was “What the hell is she wearing — a diaper?” 

Now I feel bad because they are probably some super-sexy type of panties and I have no idea what they are called.  

But, just to be positive, maybe one day I will experience a woman wearing those panties.    Maybe even Sophia.  But if it isn’t Sophia, let me request it right now — in case I end up dating someone in the future,  maybe after a few months of therapy.   Maybe not on the first date, because I’m still not sure whether I like these diaper-looking panties or not.  But maybe during the fifth or sixth date, you can wear one of these type of panties, just for the variety, and so I can blog about it.

Sophia Went to Temple with the Satin Slayer


Someone has been killing half of the town of Pine Valley on “All My Children,” including the beloved Dixie Martin. This week, the mysterious and villainous “Satin Slayer” was revealed as Billionaire Alexander Cambias Sr.!   Not only was Alexander Cambias previously dead on the show, but this billionaire serial killer was famous for something even more important: in September, he helped Sophia obtain impossible-to get-tickets for temple during Rosh Hashanah services when they were both working on the same movie in New York.  The actor, Ronald Guttman, was playing a Rabbi, and Sophia was there as a Russian dialect coach par excellence.

I’d like to think that his good deed for Sophia was “paid back” by the producers of All My Children, when they brought him back to life again for such a juicy role.  Mr. Guttman, you are doing a smashing job, although to be honest, you look a little bit too kind and bohemian to be a serial killer. But, hey, you’re getting paid! We’re looking forward to the big scene where you and Zach Slater finally have your big showdown (and he will probably kill you).  But who knows? — maybe when Zach finally kills you, it won’t be forever.  After all, you were dead once before, and see…

Sophia and I even forgive you for killing off Dixie.

So, let this be a lesson to everyone out there. Do something kind for someone today and you will be paid back in an unexpected way — like being brought back to life to play a serial killer on a soap opera!

A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month: the always popular “Briefs or Boxers” post

Remember:  Send Carnival of the Mundane links to neilochka at yahoo dot com.


Jonas Salk and Paris Hilton

There is no TV show that irritates me more than 20/20, the ABC News “Magazine,” especially when John Stossel does one of his famous investigative reports. The “research” always reminds me of something I once did for my 8th grade Social Studies class.

Friday’s 20/20 was titled “Are We Addicted To Fame?”

If you could wave a magic wand and make yourself smarter, stronger, more beautiful, or famous, which would you pick? I was surprised by how many people pick fame over everything else.

The show introduces us to our culture’s sick obsession with celebrity and fame. There are showbiz kids desperate for a part in a sitcom, students who take Learning Annex-type courses to become celebrity assistants, and crazed fans who dream of just being in the same room as someone famous.

Throughout the show, you get the sense that (the famous) John Stossel looks down on these fanatics. In fact, he seems to be disappointed in MOST OF US, as if most Americans are a bunch of sick puppies. To understand our crazed obsessions better, he turns to the usual suspects — the EXPERTS!

I used to wonder where these newsmagazines always find these experts, but blogging has helped me understand how the mass media works. A few months ago, a producer from Washington Post Radio emailed me after I wrote some humorous blog post about Mel Gibson’s infamous night out.  The host wanted to interview me about my opinion of Mel Gibson’s anti-Semitism, as if I had some special knowledge of the subject because I was both Jewish and had seen Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome three times.  Do I really need to say any more about how qualified these experts are? (editor’s note: Neil is available as a media “expert” on blogging, relationships, Los Angeles, New York, Redondo Beach, pizza in Flushing, and women [sorry, that one is still a mystery to him])

For all of John Stossel’s hand-wringing about our sick society, he glosses over the fact that the ONES who profit the most from this celebrity culture are the experts he interviews, such as Janice Min, editor-in-chief of “Us Weekly.”

Ms. Min on celebrities of today:

“You don’t even have to be so talented to be famous. You just have to be outrageous, well dressed, gorgeous, date the right person.”

John Stossel also interviews Leigh Hallisey, a professor who TEACHES a course on TV and Popular Culture at Boston University’s College of Communication.

“It used to be enough that you got attention from your parents. You got attention from your teachers, your peers and that sort of thing, but that is no longer enough,” said Hallisey. “We want attention from the worldwide media.”

However, the real talking head of the show is Jake Halpern, who just happened to have written a book titled “Fame Junkies: The Hidden Truths Behind America’s Favorite Addiction, which just happens to be be published by Houghton Mifflin RIGHT NOW in January 2007 (talk about a good PR firm). I have not read the book, but I have a feeling it doesn’t contain any scathing attacks on media-obsessed magazines such as US Weekly or Entertainment Weekly. How do I know this? Because Entertainment Weekly is running a 7-Page excerpt from the book right in the magazine! (another PR coup!)

John Stossel is fascinated by Mr. Halpern’s findings, tidbits like: most teenage girls would rather grow up to be a celebrity assistant than a U.S. Senator.

Mr. Halpern theorizes that celebrity magazines like “Us Weekly,” “People” and “In Touch” are so popular because people are lonely. Halpern points out that today more young people tend to marry later in life and more can afford their own living spaces, so they spend more time alone.

Celebrities become a way to connect us to each other. It’s sad really. There’s a lot of head-shaking going on in the 20/20 episode. Our children are fame junkies. The rest of us are lonely and miserable, with no connection to real life. The worst part of our celebrity obsession is that we are all growing up to be imbeciles. To prove this, John Stossel takes to the streets and asks passerbys to identify both Paris Hilton and Jonas Salk. Much like in those Tonight Show “Jaywalking” segments, most people are idiots. Everyone knows Nicole Richie’s former partner, but only an oid fart has heard of the developer of the first polio vaccine.

For shame! For shame!

But who’s to blame? Our parents? Our schools? Modern loneliness?

If John Stossel had any cojones he would have looked over at some of the ABC News executives he works with.  A quick search on the ABC News website shows 505 pages of news stories about Paris Hilton and ONLY 22 pages about Jonas Salk. Is it any wonder we know and care more about Paris Hilton than Jonas Salk — because ABC News likes it that way!

By the way, just out of curiosity, I looked up the last ABC News story that mentioned Jonas Salk, one of the greatest men of the Twentieth Century. This is it

The same year that Jonas Salk discovered a vaccine for polio, a little-known chemist at General Foods stumbled on to what would provide a revolution in mouths across the country.

William A. Mitchell had a simple hope in 1956 — make instant soda from a tablet. The soda didn’t pan out, but he created a hit. His research led to the invention of Pop Rocks candy.

A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month: CES, Day One

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