Joan Rivers and her daughter are flanked by the Hollywood actor/waiters they hired for their Passover (the top...way over!). Hat tip, or rather tip of the shtreimel, to Paula Froelich the Daily Beast for dining with a lady whose taste is all in her mouth. Moses has a lisp, Elijah gets drunk, and the self-promotion doesn’t stop.
You know you’re going to get an epic Seder when you’re greeted at the door by two goys in faux-fur Hassidic hats with greasy-looking fake Payos’ attached to them. It was also a pretty good sign that I had successfully arrived at Melissa and Joan Rivers’ house—as opposed to the other four Seders that were being held on that particularly dimly lit Pacific Palisades street Monday night.
“Come in! Come in!” Joan, dressed almost entirely in a sparkly outfit from her Joan Rivers Collection, cried. “Passover—such a happy occasion. We were passed over!Let’s just drink the wine instead of dripping it on our plate,” Joan said. “We’ll drip it in our throat instead…”