[cnn-photo-caption image=http://i2.cdn.turner.com/cnn/2009/images/03/30/art.spelling.manor.jpg caption="Candy Spelling's 56,500-square-foot French château-style mansion in Holmby Hills, Los Angeles, is on the market."]
Well, it took me the weekend to be sure, but I’ve finally found the perfect home: Candy Spelling’s $150 million Los Angeles mansion. I know it sounds a bit extravagant but I truly believe this is written in the stars: I’ve never told anyone this before, but my middle name is Candy. Of course, I spell it Candi, but whatever.
I know what you’re thinking: “He just wants it because the price is so low.” And while, yes, it’s true, I do love a bargain, I also have a strong personal connection to the house. And I’m not just talking about the time Joan Collins made me a man in the foyer.
I remember years ago – before I left Hollywood for the lucrative world of part-time video store/tanning parlor cashiering – sitting by the pool, drinking a Rolls Royce hood ornament smoothie while Candy’s late husband, iconic television producer Aaron Spelling, tried to convince me to do a three-episode guest stint on Beverly Hills 90210. Apparently he had liked my work on T.J. Hooker as William Shatner’s illegitimate son, Chip.
But as much as I wanted to do the 90210 role, I had to turn it down for fear of being typecast as a less-brooding-but-hotter-and-with-better-hair version of Luke Perry. Plus, Aaron balked at giving me a separate trailer for my yoga mats and condiments.
Still, nothing is perfect and Spelling Manor is no exception. For example, it has only three gift-wrapping rooms. Which makes me nervous what with Arbor Day coming up. Apparently the house used to have four gift-wrapping rooms but one was turned into a spot where Tori Spelling could display her Oscars. And when it became clear that wouldn’t be necessary they made it into a room where Shannen Doherty could go to relax and kick puppies.
On the plus side, it’s a great house in which to entertain. Finally, I’ll be able to compete with Larry King on the party circuit. I’m so tired of him preventing me from having the kind of beautiful friendship with Kim Kardashian that I know I was born to have.
But back to the price. Because I know that’s what you’re fixated on. You and your gotcha politics. Yes, $150 million could be considered a bit steep but, come on people, it’s not like there’s a recession. So just lower your eyebrows and no one will get hurt.
And by the way, it’s not like I haven’t worked hard to get this house. I know you think my job is all glamorous, hobnobbing with Nancy Grace at the frozen yogurt machine and trying on Ali Velshi’s double-breasted suits when he’s not looking. But it has its darker moments, too. You think I wanted to donate a kidney to Harvey, the pot-bellied pig Anderson keeps in his dressing room? Well, think again.
So, if you’ll excuse me. I need to go make an offer on the Spelling mansion. 56,000 square feet of understated Hollywood charm.
But if the doorbell doesn’t play the theme from Melrose Place then the whole deal is off.
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