YOUR MAMAS NOTES: A month or so ago Your Mama did the celebrity real estate dishes on one of our favorite funny femmes, Chelsea Handler. At that time, the gravel voiced wise cracker and hussy was living up in a leased terra–cotta colored contemporary in a particularly posh section of the Brentwood area of Los Angeles, CA.
Her stay in Brentwood was temporary because as everyone who follows Miss Handler’s tweets (or twits or twats or whatever they’re called) already knows the sharp and sometimes deliciously mean comedienne purchased a home of her own, just in time to put a Thanksgiving turkey in the deep fryer, light the Menorah and snatch up a ceiling-scraping Christmas tree for the living room.
Thanks to an information bone from a well-connected spy in Beverly Hills, a lovely gal whom we’ll call Juanita Whispersthedirt, we’ve recently learned that Miss Handler picked up a perfectly private walled and gated celebrity-style contemporary tucked into a steep hillside in the uppity Bel Air area of Los Angeles.
Before we delve down into some of the real estate details, Your Mama wants to let the children know we are not going to engage in much diss and/or discussion of the seller’s bending-towards-Art-Deco day-core seen in the listing photographs. Presumably and hopefully Miss Handler will hire a nice, gay decorator to get up in her new crib and work out some of the architectural quirks and decorative kinks like all those damn orchid plants and the horrific peachy-colored flower patterned wallpaper in the master pooper that made Your Mama vomit in our mouth a little when we first saw it.
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Your Mama scared up some listing information and property records for Miss Handler’s new house that reveal she splashed out the considerable sum of $5,942,500 for a completely rebuilt residence that measures 5,572 square feet with a total of 6 bedrooms and 7 poopers.
An electronically controlled gate opens from a quiet cul–de-sac to a swooping driveway that rises to a tight motor court and 3-car carport/garage. Once through the front door, the interior spaces meander along at a variety of angles that match the topography of the lot and include, according to listing information and marketing materials, a dining room with treetop views and a large living room with fireplace, travertine (or some other stone) flooring, and expansive walls of glass. The nearby kitchen has gleaming and glossy white cabinetry, matte black counter tops, a pantry, Viking brand appliances, tree top views through a wide window over the sink–a feature our wool gathering house keeper Svetlana would appreciate–a lighted soffit that runs around the room’s ceiling, and a Volkswagen-sized skylight directly above the large work island and breakfast counter.
One of the two family rooms, a den with fireplace and flat screen tee-vee mounted above it, opens directly and awkwardly off the dining room but does have two dynamite glass panels that slide into the walls and merge the room with the backyard. A second, larger and icky peach colored family room is fitted with yet another wall mounted flat scree tee-vee and more glass panels that disappear in the walls to create a porch-like environment. An adjacent room, a room unfortunately not entirely closed off from the family room, is chock-full of the various and sundry body torture contraptions designed to keep a person slim and taut and that Your Mama avoids like they’re dipped in the Hantavirus and rolled in Anthrax.
Naturally, the star-friendly residence has all the new-fangled bells and whistles modern-day famous and rich people require including custom lighting and sound systems, a camera equipped security system and a panic room with built-in safe where Miss Handler can stash her stash.
The backyard, privately situated between the house and a seriously steep and grassy hillside that looks like it’s going to be awfully difficult for Miss Handler’s little nugget Chewy to mow, has a heated 50-foot long swimming pool with attached raised spa, a couple of small terraces for sun loungers, an outdoor fireplace flanked by ass-bashing built in concrete benches, a built in barbecue center fully equipped with Viking brand appliances and, natch, a flat screen tee-vee mounted to the side of the damn house so iffin anyone who might be frolicking in the pool has a burning urge to watch the Judge Judy Show, they can.
What the property does not have are stables, which means Miss Handler will have to adopt out the small horse that Jay Leno gave her as a housewarming present in late July. Your Mama and the Dr. Cooter promise we will buy Miss Handler a more appropriate house warming and holiday gift just as soon as she invites us to sit cross-legged in front of her Christmas tree while her barefoot lesbian house-ladee serves coffee and fruit cake.
Back in November of 2008, when Miss Handler was still shtupping and living in sin with her boss Ted Harbert at E!, the couple paid $3,700,000 for a penthouse pad with panoramic Pacific Ocean views at the Azzurra complex in Marina del Rey, CA. Sometime in early 2010–or in late 2009 depending on who you ask or what you read–Miz Handler and Mister Harbert’s relationship swirled down the terlit of love.
Not long after splitting with her boss, horny Miz Handler hooked up briefly with a rather studly and well-formed Canadian animal handler and television star named Dave Salmoni and she may or may not currently be gettin‘ bizzy with rich, rich, rich and bullet hole riddled rapper 50 Cent.
Property records, via Property Shark, show that in May of 2010 Mister Harbert bought out Miz Handler’s share of their 3,319 square foot former love nest penthouse in Marina del Rey for $1,147,000.
As an aside, the listing agent for the property Miss Handler just purchased was none other than über-broker Mauricio Umansky, both celebutante Paris Hilton’s uncle and the handsome huzband of Kyle Richards who some of the children will know as the raven haired ladee on the The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills who is about to rip Kelsey Grammer’s insufferably narcissistic ex-wife Camille a new asshole. This poor Camille person, all fake boobs, blond weave and self-helpy self-righteousness, had the guts and gall to get up on the national tee-vee and whine about how difficult and exhausting it is to be a mother and wife when you have 6 homes, 4 nannies for 2 elementary school aged children, a couple of personal assistants, and a house manager or two not to mention a shapely male tennis pro with whom she flirts like she’s a dog in heat. Bitch, pleeze. Do not even go there, gurl. Listen to Your Mama here Camille because we are about to offer you some free and sage advice: Nobody, and we mean no body at all, wants to hear about your silly, rich ladee trophy wife problems. We suggest you just clam up that over-Botoxed mug of yours and try to enjoy your last few minutes of fame as the former wife and baby momma of a shockingly rich and tired ol‘ sitcom star. We can understand how you would want to be known as more than just Kelsey Grammer’s (ex)wife but you are not doing yourself any favors, ladee, by acting a damn fool on the tee-vee and invoking Kelsey’s Grammer’s name every 47 damn seconds. Okay? Get it together now. Seriously.
Anyhoo, from Your Mama and the Dr. Cooter’s humble house in the Hollywood Hills to her newly acquired mansion in the hills of Bel Air, we wish Miss Handler happy holidays and a happy new house.
listing photos: Hilton & Hyland