I drive past that Taco Bell every week day (and sometimes on Saturdays if I'm going to the Talpa for lunch). Had I but known she was there this afternoon I would have gone in person to complain that "Cold Hearted Snake" was stuck in my head all weekend. That and Ratt's "Round and Round," but I don't blame that on her.

Oh yes, they are the best!

Another beautiful house panther! Gorgeous.

Miss Roslin has a cousin named George out here in LA and he is going to get his nails did tomorrow at the groomer. Black kitties are the best!

Len Bias, "White Lines," my waster uncle... cocaine IS the 80s.

I still avoid dropping the Y-Bomb, even as I approach 40. My boyfriend likes to brag about it to his friends, but I cringe every time. Top tip: just tell men you went to some college in Connecticut and move along.

So my boyfriend's friend used to work at the Macy's perfume counter in Memphis. One day a rather country gentleman came in, and asked her assistance. "Do ya have any of that Juicy Cooter?" he asked. "Excuse me?" she replied. "You know, Juicy Cooter! Like the clothes?"

Mine was too, but I have a cold and I think my ability to be even mildly humorous right now is as stopped up as my sinuses.

That is not what I prefer. I suggest you ask an aficionado what he or she prefers in that department.

It can be, or not. It's the adjective "old-fashioned" that is operative here, not the noun.

Speak for yourself. Been there, done that, and discovered at the end of a year of "self-discovery" that wow, I love vanilla sex. For me, there's nothing better than some old-fashioned rumpy-pumpy without rococo accoutrements and power exchange.

Whoa, uncanny! George did have an identical twin, John, but I could not take them both, sadly. Here's more of my spoilt little love. Because house panthers.

He started doing this about a year ago (he's four next month, and I've had him since he was a tiny-mini-princeling kitten) out of nowhere. I was lying on my belly reading a book and he just started pummelling me. Now he follows up the biscuits with hunkering down on my back and snoozing. It's quite blissful. Tuna…

George has crazy eyes and will STEAL YOUR SOUL. He is also available for making biscuits on your back while you binge on episodes of Pretty Little Liars.

I know.

I sent this to my best male friend, who has a tendency towards what he calls "radical truth-telling" and what I call "being a dick." He got the point.

Yesterday I participated in what I hesitate to call a "debate" online with someone who thinks the paltry sex education that is offered in this country is too much, and a waste of time for kids who could — I shit you not — be learning how to break down a rifle in 30 seconds instead. That is apparently a much, much more…

Thank you for giving voice to my deep-seated desires.

He does. He texted me to say he was happy not to have to testify, even if it did mean he had to buy his own booze.

Excellent! Now I don't need to buy him any rye, and I won't have to hear him whining about the very unfairness of it all for the next week.