Ring, Ring.

“Hello?”

“Hey Liz, want to sit down over brunch with some other bloggers and two cool comedians to talk comedy and parenting and their new show on TBS?”

“Will there be cantaloupe? Because it’s in season now and it is really delicious.”

I wish there were more dirt to share about the celebs. Bill Engvall is a guy you could totally hang out with for three hours and trade stories about your kids. It’s impressive that Mr. Blue Collar comedy could hold his own in a room of white collar NYC moms dangling Ora Kiely totes and teetering on Jimmy Choos. (The moms, not Bill Engvall.) But you’ve got to like a guy whose favorite Father’s Day gift of all time was a ’77 van his wife bought him when they probably could have afforded a Cayenne.

Tim Meadows is, well, he was the longest standing cast member of SNL after ten seasons, but is still known as That Black Guy on SNL so that alone qualifies him for some sort of honor. Plus he mentioned that had he not been doing comedy he’d be writing bad ad copy, he did improv and I did improv, he worked with Michael Richards and I worked with Michael Richards, and and he used to work with Adam Sandler who was my college boyfriend’s best friend in high school in New Hampshire. So if you think about it, we’re practically related.

I haven’t watched my screener yet because I’m still two weeks behind on Lost. But it would seem The Bill Engvall Show is a solid, mainstream, family-friendly sitcom about parenting and families and the things they do. Kind of like The Family Guy.

So we talked about parenting and families and the things they do, about Facebook and teens, about which women are funny these days, and why people with blogs post mean personal attacks on celebrities.

(Answer: The same reason people with blogs post mean personal attacks on each other. I believe the proper term is asshattery.)

I think I am fast becoming the B-list momblogger PR whore, attending any press event that will send me home with a goody bag. I’m just like the celebs at those Hollywood baby graft gifting suites, grinning for the Nikons while waving their free $26.99 minkie blankets.

Holly Robinson-Peet, Jason Priestly, some soap opera star, Mr. Tori Spelling.

Me.

I did insist on getting a blurry photo before I left. You can’t leave without getting a blurry photo, you know.

Was I grabbing Tim Meadows’ ass? I will never tell.