“Who does it hurt if someone thinks I’m gay? I’ll be long dead and there will still be people who say I was gay. I don’t give a shit." —George Clooney tells The Advocate what he thinks about all those gay rumors. PHEW.

The first time Kathleen Turner called me, it was from Tinerhir, just outside of Marrakech. Alas, I was not home, and if there’s anything the international operator hates, it’s getting an answering machine. When I tried to call her back, the Moroccan operator told me the phone number was “1.” I asked, “It’s just a one-digit number?” She said, “No, it’s the number 1—because there’s only one phone there!” Needless to say, we didn’t connect. We first met on New Year’s Eve 1986 at the Long Wharf Theatre in New Haven, where Turner was headlining an adaptation of Camille. She said a quick hello while racing for a helicopter Bruce Springsteen had sent for her to attend his New Year’s Eve party. Since then, we’ve had many hurried encounters—none of which ever ended with my snagging a snapshot with one of my favorite living actresses. I’ve never had this problem with Sally Kirkland!

I recently did a special article about Matthew Lombardo’s play High, which is in the midst of a national tour headed by Turner. I was able to talk to Matthew in person, and co-star Evan Jonigkeit was easy to call. But Kathleen was doing another play in Los Angeles while I was in Florida. Given our personal schedules and the time difference, scheduling our chat was difficult. When I was walking out the door to catch a plane, the phone rang. Something told me not to let this go to voicemail. It was Kathleen. You can read the article on BillyMasters.com.

Of course, the big event in South Florida was the Winter Party, which is the annual fundraiser for the National Gay and Lesbian Task Force. While the weather could have been better, the myriad of events themselves couldn’t. It’s quite astonishing that this organization manages to seamlessly run such a wide variety of functions—from chic cocktail gatherings to hedonistic dance parties and everything in between. Tens of thousands of people fly from around the world to partake and raise money for a good cause. Check out TheTaskForce.org for more info.

I missed out on the Saturday night festivities because I had to fly to Las Vegas for the grand opening of Share nightclub. A gaggle of us gay sub-lebrities descended on Sin City for this soirée. Folks like Carson Kressley and Jai Rodriguez from Queer Eye, Ross Mathews from The Tonight Show, Brian Hay from Boy Meets Boy, Josh Flagg and Madison Hildebrand from Million Dollar Listing, Ronnie Kroell from Make Me A Supermodel, Robbie LaRiviere from Tabatha’s Salon Takeover and your very own Billy Masters from Real Housewives of Atlanta, The Anna Nicole Show and oodles of other cameos that if you blinked, you missed me. Also, there was one of the hardest working gays on TV, Alec Mapa. When I remarked that he must be hot in his chic suit, he quipped, “Well, I’m America’s Gaysian Sweetheart. I can’t show up somewhere looking like”—and he checked out my ensemble—“a cheap whore.” I took that as a huge compliment, since that’s the look I was going for!

The club is fabulous, and a good time was had by all. UK singer Luciana was great, but even better were the hot strippers (known as the Share Shot Boys) who bring some of the bigger tippers to the private VIP booths upstairs. Someone took a surreptitious video of what goes on behind closed doors, and I’ll post it on BillyMasters.com.

As unbelievable as it sounds, Kirk Cameron is in the news. The cutie (not looking any worse for wear) was telling Piers Morgan that he is against gay marriage because he believes homosexuality is “detrimental and ultimately destructive to so many of the foundations of civilization.” I took no offense to this. I know he’s a devout Christian. (He’s actually a minister, which kinda makes him even hotter.) I don’t agree with most of his points. I don’t think marriage was “defined by God.” I think it was defined by a bunch of guys who wrote a book—and then cut out quite a bit. Regardless, Kirk is entitled to his opinion. Just like I’m entitled to not mention whatever project he was promoting.

Didya know that Rosie O’Donnell has a daily talk show? You didn’t? It’s on OWN—the Oprah Winfrey Network. Never heard of it? It’s somewhere in the 400s on my cable provider. Since day one, Rosie’s show has constantly been in flux. First it was set in Oprah’s old 260-seat studio with a live band, a large audience, games and big celebrity guests. Then she moved to a smaller 70-seat studio with no band, no games and lesser guests. A week later, Rosie was alone with a guest in Oprah’s closet! People keep sending out press releases saying everything’s fine, that each change is more in line with what Rosie always envisioned the show to be, and that Oprah is ecstatic that no one’s watching. Meanwhile, Gayle quit, which can’t be a good sign.

Then Rosie put her Chicago home on the market. But that didn’t mean a thing, no. Her people said that neither Rosie nor the show was leaving Chicago. Then why was she selling? Simple. The network’s “corporate-supplied apartment had proved sufficient.” Uh-huh. Days later, word leaked that the show was—gasp—leaving Chicago! Seems that it’s been difficult to get good guests to fly out to Chicago to be on a show that no one is watching. Allegedly, the show will resurface from NYC. Perhaps from Rosie’s OWN home in Nyack. Who knows?

I must send belated birthday greetings out to Zsa Zsa Gabor. I’m not exactly sure where she was born—Babylon or Mesopotamia or some other forgotten empire. But on Feb. 6, the legendary beauty celebrated her 95th birthday, with hubby Prince Fredric throwing a sumptuous soiree in her Bel Air mansion. Needless to say, Gabor wasn’t down mingling with the guests. She was upstairs in her hospital bed, probably hooked up to numerous machines. In fact, I would have bet my last ruble that she wasn’t even conscious. But that wily Prince has thwarted me by releasing pics of Zsa Zsa blowing out her candles. There’s even one of her and Larry King—who looks positively youthful in the glow emanating from Zsa Zsa’s life support system.

Our Ask Billy question comes from Denny in Buffalo: “Ever since you wrote about Femme Fatales, I’ve gotten hooked. I went back to watch earlier episodes, and in the second show from season one, the guy sleeping with the nurse looks familiar. Plus, he’s hot and nude. Do you know who he is?”

That would be Scott Bailey, who is now married to Adrienne Frantz—who appears to be the Renée Zelwegger of soap operas. You may remember Scott from Prayers for Bobby or, if you were a soap devotee, as Sandy on Guiding Light. He is most certainly gorgeous—and I can say that having seen him up close. Kinda like Matt Bomer—in fact, very much like Matt Bomer. I’d say more but, you know, lawsuits and all. He does indeed show quite a bit of skin on this episode—more than ever. I’ll post it so the rest of you can see it on BillyMasters.com.

When Rosie’s downsizing, it’s definitely time to end yet another column. I’m still thinking about Kirk Cameron. He says that marriage was defined in the Garden of Eden between Adam and Eve. Did they actually get married? If so, who performed the ceremony? The snake? And where exactly do talking snakes fit into Cameron’s view of reality? These are the deep philosophical questions I ponder alongside photos and videos of various body parts on BillyMasters.com—the truly ecumenical site! If you’ve got any other religious questions you want my assistance on, drop a note to Billy@BillyMasters.com and I promise to get back to you before any reptiles start talking to me! So, until next time, remember, one man’s filth is another man’s Bible.