Bobby McFerrin was totally cool and friendly.  But it was really weird being around him because - no word of a lie - he did the dulcet scat-singing thing constantly.  Like, to punctuate most of his sentences.  For instance, my mom showed him on a map where my brother lived compared to us, and he was like, "Oh, so far…

It was just on a message board his publisher had put together around his second book, but I got in early and I like to think mine was one of the only ones to stick.  I tried to find the board again but it was taken down.

You were doing the beard well, keeping it groomed properly like that.  I say stick with it, it's very becoming.

I posted my real pic last week (like, one I took 5 minutes beforehand), but quickly took it down.  Here's the person I'm most often told I look like, though I'm nothing like his body type:

4.46.  Not bad, and yet somehow I still feel inadequate…

Getting to Know You thread:

"So, boys, last scene of the film.  We talk about how great our lives are going and then we all take a giant leap forward together off this precipice.  Wait, I don't see a safety net or anything down there.  Shouldn't we have stuntmen?  Aw fuck it, let's just shoot this bitch, I'm supposed to meet Kid Rock and Dane…

If you choose to finish on the face of the model on the left, turn to page 45.

I've already chosen my pseudonym if I ever write in to the column: Testing All Implicitly Nontraditional Topographies Myself I Start Beautiful Erotic Habitube And Virtually Interrogate Normative Genders

And he didn't immediately follow that up with "And I, another actor, have resurrected him!"?

I have a pretty good friend at home name Bob Hiscock.  We invented an imaginary brother for him named "Neil".

Do you know what "divine intervention" is?

Do you know what "divine intervention" is?

Well, how else was he supposed to free those hostages inside her vagina?

I can understand your confusion. Here's what normally happens when you Argo-fuck a woman: first she helps you recover something important, then you marry her and have a couple of kids, then you leave her for a younger woman, whom she poisons, then she murders your/her kids, and finally she flies away on a golden…

I imagine him getting really ab-horny, then fondling his big metal de-testicles and cranking his cau-stick shift until he achieves digital ranc-orgasm.

Big thanks to Mr. and Mrs. Thrace for giving me today's excuse for putting off doing anything productive in favour of huddling under a blanket and trying not to cry!

Let's look at it this way: the more stories we get about people on the receiving end of Brown's punches, the sweeter it will be when we get the story of Brown getting punched…hopefully repeatedly…by Manny Pacquiao…and caught on video…

The whole concept of fandom is mysterious to me.  Why do we express loyalty to things beyond their actual quality as a work of art or entertainment?  Why would anyone feel obliged to defend something they have no stake in the authorship or production of?  I realise that it is tied into the concepts of identity and…