Free The Andy Cohen Diaries by Andy Cohen Page A

him out for a long walk and saw two long-lens paparazzi guys a block away. When I saw the cameras I thought, “Wow—I’m going to be photographed with this super cute dog,” I was proud of my dog. And then one of the photographers came over to me and said, “My girlfriend is a huge fan, can I have a picture?” Is this how it works with the paparazzi? So I said to him, “Yes, I will, but only if you release good pictures of me,” and he said, “Yes,” so we just looked into space two blocks away where I guess another photog was taking pictures of us, and we’ll see how the pics turn out.
    The whole day was just dog dog dog. I had a rough midafternoon when Bruce met him and had the same first reaction that I did yesterday in Jersey—he’s big and licky and gets boners. My best friend’s reaction was a total setback for me; I got a pit in my stomach again. Then I took him to the dog run with Liza (a dog cheerleader) and he got scared when we were going in and buried his face between my legs and it broke my heart and I was back in again. He was mine. And looking around in the dog run, I’m seeing ugly dogs everywhere that drool, yelp, jump, growl, and are just generally disgusting, so I’m feeling luckier and luckier every minute with this dog. I had dinner with Liza, Bruce, the Perskys, and the Consueloses and then I went home after to have a date night with Wacha and learned that red wine at the end of a date with a dog works the same way as red wine at the end of a date with a guy. I came very close to sleeping with the dog. I was just petting and petting and loving and feeling very connected to him. He is my own Ralph Lauren Snoopy!
    SUNDAY, OCTOBER 20, 2013
    Got coffee with Jake Shears and the dog. I am trying to not only get used to calling him Wacha but also not refer to him as “it,” which Amanda keeps pointing out that I am doing. (It takes my friend the shrink to bring this to my attention, and she’s right as usual.) After two days of being with this animal, what I have come to realize is that this city is a toilet and everything is shit- and piss-stained. I’ve been walking around in Ferragamo shoes like a dandy for twenty-three years and little did I know that I basically have been contracting worms the whole time. Meanwhile, Wacha is very consumed with sniffing asses. Yes, he is very smart.
    I co-hosted an event with Cynthia Nixon for Bill de Blasio tonight at a fancy gay guy’s house on the Upper East Side. De Blasio is super nice and super tall and super liberal. (Maybe too liberal?) I did not ask the future mayor how he plans to clean the toilet that is our city. We are beyond that. I was asked to say a few words and, sandwiched between Nixon and de Blasio, I could only think of how short I looked. Even though my mind was on how nervous I was about leaving the dog, I eeked something out. I went to WWHL and was just thinking of it/him the whole time. I didn’t even drink on the show because I wanted to stay sober for the dog. Jenna Jameson’s plane was delayed. She wasn’t landing at Newark till 10:15 and had checked her luggage and makeup. We booked Bevy Smith to join Jennifer Tilly, and the broadcast became a big “waiting for the porn star to show up on live TV” kind of thing. And this begs the age-old question: Has there ever been a reliable porn star? Jenna arrived right at the end, but waiting for the porn star was maybe more fun than interviewing the porn star.
    MONDAY, OCTOBER 21, 2013
    It turns out maybe there is no such thing as a nice paparazzo. There are photos of me with Wacha all over the Internet and I am aggressively picking my nose. I mean I am digging. The headline on Perez Hilton was “Andy Cohen Embarrasses His Dog As He Digs for Gold on the Streets of NY”! Wacha was embarrassed !? How does Perez know!? How about that I was embarrassed by having to pick up my dog’s shit? AOL,