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From the calm of the TCA's rehearsed answers, publicist-penned soundbites, and bland programming executivespeak emerged a new, non-sequitur-spewing hero, one that seemed more interested in discussing bagging jailbait than yakking about his role on Veronica Mars or his NBC remake of The Poseidon Adventure. That hero's name?

Steve. Fucking. Guttenberg. followed around The Erstwhile Officer Mahoney (disclaimeth the Zappers: "While Guttenberg's wisdom may produce laughter, its reproduction in this space isn't meant to imply that the 'Zeus and Roxanne' thespian was stoned, inebriated or otherwise out of his gourd at the NBC party." Riiiiight.) and dutifully recorded his wisdom for posterity:

Guttenberg on accidents on the "Poseidon" set:
There was a time when my chair wasn't near the catering table. My chair was near the camera, where I don't like to be. And I stamped my foot in a fire ant mountain and there were fire ants and I got bit ... You've gotta eat them before they eat you.

Guttenberg on a much-desired "Three Men and a Little Lady" sequel:
It's actually called 'Steve and a 16-year-old' and it'll only work in Kentucky.

Guttenberg on keeping the common touch:
I think about the little people. Not often. I spend most of my time with the people who work with me — the woman who brushes my teeth, the man who puts on my shoes, my bedwarmers — I have four or five women who sleep in my bed from 7 until 9 and then at 9:05 I ask them to leave and I go right in bed and it's snuggly.

Guttenberg on other reasons he may be been hidden from the public eye:
I don't not work because I'm rich. I don't work because I live In Czechoslovakia. It's just such a tough commute. It's the commute that kills you. To get here for a 6 a.m. call from Czechoslovakia, I have get up at around 3. I have to go to sleep at around 6. It's the traffic over the Bermuda Triangle that's really bad. Other than that it's pretty smooth. I take side streets.

If you're looking for us for the next couple of days, we'll be busy carving every last word of this poetry into granite and installing Guttenberg's Code in our living room.