Bill Maher Takes Us to Hell!

Sally Hawkins just grins, while Greg Kinnear spills the Soup

Speaking of teens: Lately, I've gotten several e-mails supposedly from underage people desperate to know which clubs they can go to without getting carded. Why do I suspect these requests are actually from undercover cops trying to suss out some more gay places to raid? Whatever the case, I tell them the truth: Nowhere!

To hang with the other team for a change, I finally went to Beatrice Inn and desperately wished I was a hetero instead of having chosen to be gay. The downstairs den and especially the upstairs dance area are filled with young (but legal), hot-looking girls who seem beamed out of 1960s London. One of them, Kirsten Dunst, was all friendly on line for the bathroom until she realized who I was. And yes, she was just using the bathroom to pee.

Over at club legend Arthur Weinstein's memorial, writer Anthony Haden Guest got so smashed that he became rather unconscious for some time. (Well, it was the rare memorial with an open bar.)

But cheers to Madonna. I hear that for her upcoming stay at Caesars Palace in Atlantic City, Madge's contract specifies that a new toilet seat must be installed before her arrival, and she needs proof that it was freshly taken out of the box and the seal broken. Of course, no such precautions need to be taken with married men's penises.

But back, once again, to the g-darn Republican ticket to hell: Tired rumors crazily resurfaced last week about my friend Amy Lumet and her ex-boss John McCain. Amy tells me that when the tale re-hit, publicist Bobby Zarem called her to wonder why he's never part of these rumors. What the goshdarned heck, let's add him!

Meanwhile, did anyone think the two pivotal figures in this history-making campaign would be Katie Couric and Tina Fey? I guess life inspires pop art, too.

musto@villagevoice.com

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