I would like to share...

...that the George Michael "Behing the Music" was AWESOME! Okay, NOW we all know he is gay as the day is long but shit, how the hell was I not wise about it as a child and teen?! The reason GM is my boo for life is the fact that during his interview he broke it down and was like, "Hello? All the clues were there. Did you see what I was wearing and doing?" Um, good point, good point. Also, let's me just say that WHAM! had some great songs and when my man went solo it was over...just take out Faith, put on some "Father Figure" and don't try and pretend that was NOT the jam of 1987. I bet my pinky toe, some import CD's and a round of dranks you can't!

...that Tom Robbins' "Fierce Invalids Home From Hot Climates" is just one of those books in which you wish your subway commute was twice as long so you could read more. I'm only a quarter through it but I'm going to jump out on a limb and say I won't be disappointed. The main character is a CIA agent that does a lot of "troubleshooting" for the agency and is in love with his 16 year old stepsister...really, it's funny, trust me! Another character I love is his grandmother, she goes by the name "Maestra" because it sounds good and she doesn't like the vibe of "grandma". Old broad breaks things down for him that are genius such as:
"Self-esteem is for sissies. Accept that you're a pimple and try to keep a lively sense of humor about it. That way lies grace--and maybe even glory."

...that I love my friend Jason for just calling to me to ask why Naomi Watts continues to get famous. When I tell him I totally agree and I don't know why he tells me to call him back when I get to my office so we can work it out. That is fierce. He also took me too see Michael McDonald for my birthday last year...yeah, we took it to the streets and then some.

...that US weekly just gets dumber and dumber. Regardless, if my mag is not in my mailbox on Friday night I act like a Jennifer Jason Leigh in "Rush" right before Jason Patric fucks the addiction** right out her...all angry and crawling on the floor, looking for anything to take the pain away...while screaming at the voices in my head. My Time Out New York and Entertainment Weekly are there but I throw that shit dramatically to side in the hopes that my US Weekly is wedged somewhere in that little silver box. I don't know what it is, the pictures of stars being just like "US" or the promise of a story that is going to tell me what "really" is going on in Justin and Cameron's relationship. It's all fucking stupid and takes 10 minutes to read but it's like crack. Okay, I've never done crack, but I'm pretty sure that is what it is like...and goddammit a yearlong subscription probably costs the same. In the immortal words of Chris Rock as "Pookie" in New Jack City, "That shit be calling me, I got to go to it." Jesus, release me from this tabloid prison...

(**Apparently anal sex will cure a pesky heroin addicition...I don't know what they are doing at the Betty Ford Clinic but they might want to check that out, just a suggestion, I don't want to step on anyone's toes here.)