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The stars were out last night to attend the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show, and I was there trying to catch a glimpse of them as they arrived in limos and large black SUVs. Hollywood Boulevard was shut down, as was the sidewalk, and all eyes were craned to the giant pink banners around the Kodak Theatre.

Random bystanders were milling around, and that's one of the most redeeming qualities of Los Angeles. You could go out for groceries and stumble on a bunch of celebrities coming to watch beautiful women in their underwear raise money for charity.

Since this was a taping, not a live show like the Oscars, the beautiful, famous people came at sporadic intervals. Shows like this, several seasoned pros told me, were a bitch to cover since it can be a waiting game.

I was on the back tier of the paparazzi stand -- perhaps the closest thing journalism comes to professional boxing. About 80 photo and video workers from media outlets across the globe were there, all vying for space and angle and that one perfect look from Posh Spice.

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To get those perfect looks, the photogs actually yell out commands to the stars as they walk by and pose. You've seen a million flashbulbs at the Oscars, but what's most interesting is what you never hear. Posh, up here, baby. Gimme a smile, babe. Top left, back row, over here. Seal, Heidi, one more for the top row.

From the paparazzi stand, it's endless demands at high volume, a cacophony that shows both how crazed we are about gawking and how competitive the celebrity-info game really is. Like golf, it's a game of inches: Everyone has the same shot, subject and deadline, and it's all about capturing that one pristine instant.

Some of the shots I got are after the jump. Next week, I'll have more on the show, the afterparty and how Slash's hair touched my leg. I need sleep and a shower.

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The stars were out last night to attend the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show, and I was there trying to catch a glimpse of them as they arrived in limos and large black SUVs. Hollywood Boulevard was shut down, as was the sidewalk, and all eyes were craned to the giant pink banners around the Kodak Theatre.

Random bystanders were milling around, and that's one of the most redeeming qualities of Los Angeles. You could go out for groceries and stumble on a bunch of celebrities coming to watch beautiful women in their underwear raise money for charity.

Since this was a taping, not a live show like the Oscars, the beautiful, famous people came at sporadic intervals. Shows like this, several seasoned pros told me, were a bitch to cover since it can be a waiting game.

I was on the back tier of the paparazzi stand -- perhaps the closest thing journalism comes to professional boxing. About 80 photo and video workers from media outlets across the globe were there, all vying for space and angle and that one perfect look from Posh Spice.

View larger image

To get those perfect looks, the photogs actually yell out commands to the stars as they walk by and pose. You've seen a million flashbulbs at the Oscars, but what's most interesting is what you never hear. Posh, up here, baby. Gimme a smile, babe. Top left, back row, over here. Seal, Heidi, one more for the top row.

From the paparazzi stand, it's endless demands at high volume, a cacophony that shows both how crazed we are about gawking and how competitive the celebrity-info game really is. Like golf, it's a game of inches: Everyone has the same shot, subject and deadline, and it's all about capturing that one pristine instant.

Some of the shots I got are after the jump. Next week, I'll have more on the show, the afterparty and how Slash's hair touched my leg. I need sleep and a shower.

View larger image The Spice Girls, who performed a reunion show Thursday night

View larger image Heidi Klum

View larger image Marcus Allen

View larger image Neil Patrick Harris

View larger image Posh Spice (doing sexy face)