michael jackson should have just made the damn interview himself.

edited it right there at neverland, use more of his music, had his lawyers look at it first.

and he should have gotten me to interview him.

it was so obvious that he knew what he was going to reveal about his plastic surgery and his house and his spending habits and his childhood and about his sex life as a teen.

and why on earth would you go to the british press who arent really known for paiting a pretty picture of their subjects, jacko?

they stopped the train this morning because some guy barfed on his seat.

the driver mumbled something into the microphone and then said that he was going to shut the doors so they could isolate the problem, and then he shut the doors.

it was eight thirty in the morning.

we sat in the subway station on the subway with the doors closed for what seemed like a half hour.

trust me when i tell you that the xbi isnt exactly thrilled with the idea of one of their employees who was given a flying car riding a subway train and two busses to work.

late is late and theres no excuse for it.

sir, a man vomited in a subway car near santa monica and vermont and the conductor stopped the train for twenty minutes and thats why im late.

my bosses boss just calls me hippie.

hows your hippie? he’ll ask my boss in front of me.

i have a million comebacks, but i have to swallow them until a million people flow me ten bucks

and since chopper one costs a half billion i know hes right when the old dude says im lucky to even touch her.

ive watched every episode of joe millionaire and even though he was a total idiot, i was still able to enjoy the show completely.

between the bondage blowjob chick who knows how to order wine, and the virginial esp girl, i liked the sweet girl the most.

i think joe does too.

earlier karisa had me change to fear factor, where couples where competing. the dude had to dip his head into a heart shaped tin of giant roaches take as many as he could in his mouth and pass it to his girl via a kiss and then she took the roaches and put them in a jar with her mouth.

network prime time television.

eight pm.

now, please explain to me why we can show that and not titties?

or say fuck?

if fox wanted to really make a lot of money, they would have a special where a famous guy will say fuck at the end of the show.

it would be the first time that millions of people have heard that word on national tv.

call it Who Wants to Hear the F-Word?

but just like Joe Millionaire, this show would have a suprise, because a famous guy isnt going to say the word fuck at the end of the show, after all.

whats going to happen is, after a half hour you will hear one famous and non-famous person after another say the word fuck in different settings, different accents, different intonations and with different results.

the best result is, of course, that the world wouldnt have exploded, children didnt suddenly grow fangs and attack us, and millions of dollars would have been made for the broadcasting company.

edit it properly and you can call it art.

florence henderson, betty white, rupaul, barbara walters, serena williams, jenna jameson, shirley temple black, aretha franklin, madonna, hillary clinton, courntney love, willie nelson, weezer, kurt vonnegut jr., michael jackson, f.lee bailey, oj simpson, gary coleman, pat sajeck, mike tyson, and elvis costello would deliver some of the best performances, i would imagine.

and it wouldnt cost much money.

and it could get done fast.

and you could give half the money to some good cause.

thats how you get the stars.

madonna, will you say fuck for the united negro college fund?

i fell asleep listening to animals last night.

i havent done that since college.

off wing opinion

of my mind’s many mistresses, raymi is queen

there is nothing about this girl that im not in love with.

just look at her.

if she was my girl i would do anything for her.

id work at a gas station again, be a millionaire, stop doing drugs.

cut my hair

so many good things happened today and still i was paying attention to the bad, and i was just done being the bad.

sometimes the devil voice in your brain isnt just saying “you’ll never make it, youre not enough.”

it’s throwing its voice, pretending it’s your boss repeating and repeating something not great, or pretending it’s you repeating super bad things that you’ve thought.

then i talked to karisa who just got back from vegas living the life of a superstar. she told me that she saw mamma mia and played craps at the hard rock but ate the biggest shrimp she’d ever seen at the palms and after an hour i felt one hundred per cent better.

then clipper girl came over to drop off some of her magic cookies, but had to run so she kissed me on the forehead and zoomed away in her chevrolet.

and i ate the cookies and felt another one hundred per cent better.

then this not attractive woman at all knocked on my door with an academy screener of about schmidt.

and she was not nice to me.

and she mumbled something mean about my apartment to which i said, its not my fault, my maid didnt come.

shes coming tomorrow though.

kobe bryant totally missed a free throw at the all star game, which isnt as easy as it seems.

he missed it cuz he wanted the all star game to go into double overtime so everyone could play basketball a little longer with michael jordan.

michael gave the sweetest smile when kobe hit the free throw that went in.


anna has been rehabbing and has been out of touch

but it’s okay because the carrier pigeons send me sweet little notes from her, and i attach pez dispensers to them and send em back on their way.

the last one was a wonder woman one and she liked it very much. so much so that she sent me a naughty little picture of herself along with a tiny lil note that said

what are you doing for valentines day?

i wrote back, “im gonna eat some ecstasy and let you molest me.”

she sent back a pigeon with two capsules of x and a locket with her name engraved on it.

for some reason i always take a whiff of the pigeon to see if she squirted a little of her delicious perfume on them, but she never does and the pigeons always look at me a little cockeyed and try to poop on my hand.

anna has been nursing a sore back. her pal martina hingis retired last week at the ripe old age of 22 and on one hand i would love it if anna quit too because i would get to spend more time with her, but on the other hand i would really like to see her win a tourney before she hangs the adidas up for good.

my weekend was spent pretty much blowing my gnose into toilet paper. right now my cleaning lady is putting a deep scrub on everything. i did my best to rid her of nasty kleenexes and empty soup cans.

i did enjoy the all-star game last night. especially when mariah nearly made mj cry because she sings so wonderfully.

i know a lot of people talk shit about her, but whatever. no matter whats going on in her life, the one thing that matters is that mariah’s a great singer.

which is exactly why i have her poster facing my bed.

which i will probably have to take down, temporarily, if anna really does come over on valentines day.

hopefully i wont just pass out as soon as i eat it, which is what happened last time, only to be woken up by her slamming the door knocking over the x-rated polaroids she left behind of her in lingerie with a post-it that said, “this is what you missed, old man.”

trust me, i know what i missed.

i am feeling better today, if you’re scoring at home.

and if you’re scoring at home, remember not to be selfish.

scott rosenberg