Like many young men, Elvis Presley longed to surround himself with gorgeous, glamorous women who adored him.
How could she name names like this, reveal sizes of penises, tell us that Bruce Willis had a camel tongue and that the Don Johnson experience was one that had to be wolfed down as quickly as eating a candy bar?
How could she talk about how she put herself in the Cybill Shepherd sandwich-- sex with two men at once--and about the fried-peanut-butter sandwich that so often accompanied sex with Elvis?
Baranski is in a grey jumper and huge, ovoid sunglasses, which she tilts down, little finger raised, to reassure me “there is a person under here”.
In a few weeks she’ll fly to London – “my favourite city, I just adore it” – to appear in two performances of Stephen Sondheim’s Follies at the Royal Albert Hall.
Today, though, on a rare day off from shooting the CBS legal drama The Good Wife, she’s in errand-running, rather than cocktail-quaffing, mode.