Uhh, to the skanky ass barmaid at Dave & Busters who said I was too "over served" to make my own choices about who I hook up with in the bathroom, and that "you're not allowed to come back here in the food prep area!" I just have to say this : just lost a customer you hatin' ass bitch! I got Luka by Suzanne Vega…

"You're the man now, dog! Remember that movie Finding Forrester? I'm watching it right now! In my head! With limited interruptions from a few sponsors! That's right, there is ad space in my brain. What?Hey buster, The broadcast rights to air these movies in my skull don't pay for themselves!"

I don't even do mattress! I just throw a bunch of tuxedo shirts down on the carpet and pull a vinyl shower curtain over my naked torso. That is .... when I'm not "knockin' dem boots" with Milwaukee's , at times somewhat byzantine if not downright fickle, online dating scene.

To speak of all the turmoil in the world right now, was it not Archbishop Desmond Tutu, resplendent in his chalk white Guess jeans, who once stated to a room full of indifferent male prostitutes and their leathered up "producers" that: "People are people?" Uhhhh, then why should it be that you and I should get along…

I agree 20% seems reasonable for even reasonable restaurant service, but what about carry out? I usually pencil in maybe 5% to whomever is swiping my card and handing me my food, but I really don't know the protocol, certainly we're not talking 20% for carry out?

Ugh, spambots are the worst you guys! So I've been corresponding with this chick, who I thought was pretty rocking, who owned her own yoga pants company and was giving me all this rad advice about how to get started in the online retail game, yeah I wanna sell dog fragrances (OMG IT'S A REAL F-ING THING HATERS, AND…

Hey I love nothing more than rolling up my t-shirt sleeves like Dylan McKay on 90210, heading over to the food court at the local mall, and not only reading a YA novel, but really "getting" it, in full public view. Why just the other week I remember setting this dog-eared paperback down against my busom, pensively…

I think certain people sometimes conflate wealthier areas of Paris with the entirety of France, not unlike London and the United Kingdom, or Dubuque and North America.

(Taken from a slam poetry event, earlier this evening.)

(*ahem) Courtney Love smells like Cheeto dust, hospital linoleum, and Danny Aiello's armpit.

omg!!!!!! So my dog is such a total little schemer. Apparently he somehow learned how to fake seizures, in order to get sympathy treats. Anyways, to make a long story short, I somehow ended up having to do this stupid 5k charity run for canine epilepsy, while my dog just sat there on the sidelines sniffing butts and…

I'm afraid to look at Mr. Belding's Twitter account. I would want it to be only funny anecdotes about SBTB rehearsals, or what Tori Spelling was like in person. Maybe we could finally get his real thoughts about the so-called "New Class." But I bet it's all weird political subtweets about Benghazi and the flat tax,…

Ugh, I am totally freaking out right now you guys!!!! So, like, I've been letting this guy live in my drywall for the past three months in exchange for sexual favors, and I'll stop you right there before you go, "sweet, total concubine action you got going there, right?" Uh no, WRONG!! It's not like that. Well…

"Hey Kerr, what was all that shit I read in British GQ about "exploring." I didn't realize "exploring" is how you were characterizing our relationship off the court for the past 8 months. This is nuts, I can't believe I'm putting myself through this all over again after what happened with Detlef Schrempf."

Thanks for the movie recommendation, son of Arnold Schwarzenegger. I'll add it to my Netflix queue at once! While I wait patiently for this arrive, Might you have any other valuable life directives for me, young gentleman of no distinction, who was sired by acknowledged celebrity television news journalist Maria…

I would name mine S.A.D.A.C, or Sponsored Advertising Disguised As Content.

Not rocket science people: 1. Drive to another state. 2. Rent hotel room. 3. Remove any loose clothing or jewelry. 4. Layer the seat with at least one roll of quilted toilet paper. 5. Have moist wash cloth at your disposal. 6. Flush toilet several times afterwards. 7. Shower. 8. Spritz undergarments and anus with…

I love the guy on that show. He carries around a guitar case full of cat treats, and on one episode a calico pawed his wrist and so he leaves the room, and starts weeping.

Wouldn't it be fucked up if, inexplicably, Courtney Love is right and the media begins to grant her all of this credibility on aviation disasters, and she starts showing up to FAA hearings in ill-fitting Versace dresses, high on crushed Opana, delivering her Cheeto-breathed congressional testimony through a haze of…

"What's it going to be Palakiko : College, or Keoni Ka'aukai and those Honolulu thugs of his?" Is something I might say to an at-risk teen outside of a slam poetry recital in Hawaii.