Two Drinks with. . . Bill Maher

I’m at Bill Maher’s house, waiting for him to finish a podcast recording. Across the room is an anatomically correct sex doll of comedian Whitney Cummings. She gave it to Maher, his producer told me, because it creeped her out too much to have in her own home.

Now I’m being ushered into the guest seat in Maher’s studio. The room is still pungent from the joint he smoked during the last recording. “There’s just nothing you can do that’s more fun than getting high with me,” he tells me. I believe him. But because of the weed, he doesn’t want one drink—let alone two.