It's Everyone Can Bite Me Friday!

After sending out an SOS for pie, which I got, and a Lamborghini Countach, which I did NOT get, I went to Nostalgic Candy to buy a box of Chuckles. They arrived yesterday and five two have mysteriously disappeared into the ether.

They don't sell Chuckles out here because the West coast is retarded. Did you know that the same chocolate bars can sit on shelves here in our stores for weeks? Because no one buys them. They're all I'll-Have-A-Puffed-Smog-and-Air bar please. If you actually purchase a chocolate bar, it will have already turned that strange color of grey that chocolate gets when it's been out of the factory for 47 months and wrapped in plastic. When I used to go on the road with Single, Married & Divorced we traveled mainly in the south and on the East coast. I would load up on Chuckles and then eat them all before I got home. Then get pissed I had eaten them all.

I used to do the same thing with Mother's Butter Tarts when I went to Canada. Buy them in every town I played but they never made it past customs because someone has no impulse control. And if you have no idea what a Butter Tart is then you can't ever be my friend.

I have found a way to manipulate the Vicodins so that I can sleep 12 hours a day and then only have to entertain myself the other 12. Sleeping 7 hours a night was really annoying because that left a lot of free time. I go to the doctor next Wednesday, which means I still have FIVE weeks of not walking left after that appointment. Jami had written me before the surgery and said that the time would not pass quickly and not to let people convince me it would. She was right. Three months passes like THREE MONTHS, not like 60 seconds.

I truly hate myspace.(vom) it. I've hated it since its inception. If you're a musician or comedian on tour, an artist selling product or even Pamela Anderson, I get it. But the rest of you? Sitting at your computer making up poems does not require a myspace. And to further annoy me, why not have your favorite unrecognizable song play as your page loads. That way, if I just happen to be listening to my own music, or streaming something, or on the phone, I will be required to scramble to turn off my volume which will annoy me so much I will surf off your page never to return. I know, I won't be missed.

When I got asked to join Facebook a few times, so bloggers could engage me in a game of Scrabble, I looked out my window to see if the four horsemen of the Apocalypse had arrived. Do I seem, in any way shape or form, the kind of person who would play a board game? LONG DISTANCE WITH A STRANGER? If I was into that, I'd be having cyber sex instead. Or chatting in porn rooms. You know, something F U N. Board games are for kids and drunk adults who live in towns where there is nothing to do but load unrecognizable songs into their myspace pages.

Let me bang on the Twitter drum for a few minutes, speaking of retarded things in the path of my outrage. I couldn't help but notice, when I was over at Dooce's website, that she follows 49 people on Twitter and over nine THOUSAND people follow her. For those of you who don't know what Twitter is, get a seven year old to explain it to you. I can understand if people with a fascinating life have a Twitter following. But to write what your kid said or that your plane is late or that you just dropped an orange in your kitchen, isn't that as close to not having a life as you're ever going to get? Put me in line with some George Clooney or John Cusack Tweets and I'll stop making fun of Twitter. I guess we know how long I will be making fun of Twitter, huh?

In spite of all this venom, I've recently discovered some blogs I like. Take a look at this guy from Alabama. EmmaK first pointed him out on her blog, Mommy Has A Headache. I also love Kimber over at Too Fabulous For Words. And my friend Mrs. K is back with a new blog; I think some of you will remember her as Just Jane. I've also listed that insane Aussie chick Fahey on my sidebar under her blog Boss of Everything. Her name is pronounced Fay if you can believe that. Then WHY IS THERE AN EXTRA E IN THERE? Because she's Australian, that's why. She's pretty funny so you should check her out if you're tired of American humor.

I can hear Fahey talking to her mirror, her only friend, and saying, "Poor Pooz, she thinks Americans have a sense of humoUr.

It's in the 90's here in L.A.

End of chat.