Almost Famous...

Screw it.

I have to just tell the truth. I know I’m supposed to act like I have this mysterious Nashville halfway famous (as my Granny would say) life. Like I just go to parties, rub elbows with the famous (i.e. get elbowed in the head because tall people refuse to acknowledge that smaller people may be right behind them), cash all my checks. Okay, I do some of that shit although running into Pier1 in flip flops and an anti-poof treatment on my head and getting asked if I’m that kid from That 70s Show is hardly as glamorous as you might not imagine. I was just at Target last night and I saw some famous folks. They’re crazy. Target was playing Chaka Khan and not one of them were grooving to it. What person doesn’t groove to a Chaka Khan song? That’s illegal in some countries. Celebrities. What the fuck? Needless to say, and really actually needless to say (don't you hate when people say that and the thing that they said was actually a necessary thing to say in order to move the conversation along?), I was grooving hard.

Ahh, so speaking of famous, could I get more famous if I made a nasty tape like Paris Hilton and of course, Cameron Diaz! Can you believe that shit? You see, there are small gifts that the one upstairs gives me. She can’t just have 45 bazillion dollars, have the world think she’s the baddest white girl in all of the motion pictures and on top of that she used to be kissing Justin Timberlake all up in my face. That would just be rude. To me! And what have I ever done to her? So long ago (to be sung like Luther) she made a nasty S&M tape that critics have hailed as not that sexy (That’s what they said) and for years she’s been fighting the release of it blah blah blah and now it’s out and available. Dude, what is the problem? What’s a little bad press for someone who has everything?

Who cares about bad press when you've got all the cash! So Mary-Kate's possibly a coke-sniffer? Even if so, she's a multi-millionaire coke-sniffer with an insane shoe collection, so snort it up MK. None of this shit will matter when you're lounging in your bungalow in Brazil, getting paper cuts counting that cash. And you'll always have Ashley. People do need to leave those two alone. They've got empires to build.

Shit, I’m about to make a nasty tape with Doogie Howser or something. Then can I have the money? Then can I get on the VIP list? Well Fuck You Leslie. That’s my new thing. Everything is Fuck You Leslie. Monster. Get on the train. Phew! For a moment there, I was feeling like I lost my shazaam.

So yes, I plan on making a nasty tape. Acting like it pains me to have it released. Release it. Get all the checks and then what? Can I buy a house? Or will that be another layer of my own demise? Will no one buy the nasty tape of Greg and Doogie Howser? I mean, it is Doogie Howser. Come on. I wouldn’t say anything bad about his ass. That fool can sing. Little old Doogie Howser. Wait, did I just say I’d hump Doogie Howser? That’s a little sexy, I guess. Well, not nearly as sexy as the dude that tried to lift my arms to smell my "armpit" (a word I don't recognize in the English language) so that he could enjoy my "pheromones..." but that, my cancer-free friend, is another story for another day. Who says armpit and why are you trying to smell me? Craziest comment ever. Another day though. For now, take this and I promise I'll try not to disappear for too long. Website? Update? Who?