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Monthly Archives: February 2008


Why is it that every time some brainless celebrity has a baby people have to go on about it so?  Like it’s the first time a woman has ever given birth in the history of the universe?

In the latest slap in the face to mothers everywhere (and, dare I say, womanhood in general) People was alleged to have paid $1 million for pictures of Nicole Ritchie’s newborn.  I wonder if these pearls of wisdom were thrown in at no extra charge: Read More »


My excellent friend Pandemonic has a plan afoot to help me snag Orlando.  Do you see what a great example she’s setting for the rest of you?  What a great friend she is!  She is so excellent and creative!

I should point out that I have no idea what her plan is, I only know that it requires good weather.  I suspect my ass might end up on display at a county fair or something.  We’ll see.

Anyway Pan, don’t worry about him jetting off to England.  He’s a kazillioaire, he can fly his ass back if he has to.

This weekend I got a ton of hits on my latest Orlando post, even though none of my regular readers seemed to be around much.  What’s up with that? 

I know you’re out there.  I see you on my stat reports.  I know where you live and what your I.P. address is.  The only thing I don’t know is who you are.  Why don’t you want to talk to me?

Mr. Rizzuto says it’s because my comments are too clique-ish.  I’m sorry about that.  Did someone frighten you?  Was it Tigereye?  She’s harmless, I promise.

Here’s the thing.  All of the people who make comments here?  And all the people on my blogroll?  I’ve never met any of them.  OK, I’ve met one person, but we knew each other from the internet first.  The only reason I know any of these people is because one of us decided to speak up.  Now we’re all BFF’s.

Don’t be shy!  Reach out and touch someone!  Whether you’re one of my regular readers or if this is your first time, leave me a comment.  Just please no jokes about Orlando being gay.

Oh wait, he’s cheating on me.  It’s open season on him until he straightens his ass out.  No pun intended.

Kidding!  I don’t believe in violence.  I always give peace a chance.

Seriously, I’m OK with Orlando being a big cheater.  He’ll come back to me.  I’ll just have to get a billboard…but more about that later.

I’m OK.  Really.  But I’m worried about some of the other ladies.  Joders seems a little depressed, and I haven’t heard from Cait in a while.  I think Anners has gone off the deep end.

So ladies, feel better!  As a public service, I am offering Deadpan’s comment box for you to vent your frustrations.  Let it all out, it’s OK.  Tell us how you really feel.  We don’t judge you here.  Don’t hold back!

Programming note:  violent fantasies are for entertainment purposes only.  Psycho fangirls will be laughed at and subsequently reported to The Department of Homeland Security.

I’m fascinated by this preacher I see on the Staten Island Ferry every morning. He’s a little African preacher. He calls himself that. He says that even if you don’t want to listen to him on you way to work you’ll remember “this little African preacher” fo shiz on Judgment Day. Before the ferry arrives he stands in the terminal going on about Jesus and eternal damnation and such. Then he gets on the ferry and preaches some more. I imagine he does this all day long, back and forth. Or at least all morning, because I never see him on the way home. Read More »