thats andy malcolm

todays his birthday. hes 24.

hes also a champion chess player, a shape shifter, an award winning author, and one of the best people you’ll ever meet.

usually facebook tells me when my friends have birthdays but when Andy got near 5,000 friends, facebook disabled his account.

they wouldnt tell him why, they didnt tell him to stop whatever it was that he was doing, they didnt give the veteran journalist and former Laura Bush press secretary a second chance

they just sent him this email and basically told him to suck it:


Unfortunately, your account has been permanently disabled for violating Facebook’s Statement of Rights and Responsibilities. We will not be able to reactivate it for any reason, nor will we provide further explanation of your violation or the systems we have in place. This decision is absolutely final.

The Facebook Team

its my belief that they didnt think that a gray haired grampa could get 5,000 friends without doing anything fishy.

but andy is more popular than only a handful of people at the Times. and for good reason. bro works his tush off. if he doesnt get a million page views on a month he gets ornery and testy because during the election last year he was getting three times that.

i keep telling him not to worry too much about the scoreboard because hes the king. hes our king. and sometimes people just dont wanna read about politics.

but that doesnt detract andy. he’s an idealist. he thinks he can write in such a way that it’ll bring a smile to your face or get your blood boiling no matter if you wanna read about Obama or Biden or Ron Paul. and hes usually right.

only one LA Times blogger my sister has ever asked me about. Geoff Boucher, the writer who interviews musicians and actors and writes the comic book blog Hero Complex? Nope. Lindsay Barnett the lovely and amazing animal blogger on Unleashed? no ma’am. shes only asked about Andy. Top of the Ticket.

Lindsay by the way loves Andy so much she hugs him any time he drives in from his many mansions and blesses us with his presence.

today he came in, even though it was his birthday, and he got a hug, and cake.

and because Andy is the best, he gave ME a book that he penned. on his birthday. so i gave him a hug too.

happy birthday Muskrat! hang in there and we will make these numbers seem like a beautiful beginning to a long and prosperous journey. cuz thats exactly whats up.

dont call me daughter

i buy my expensive finery in a place called santee alley

its close to the amazing flower mart, blocks away from skid row.

the other day i was shopping for various items when i saw the most interesting scene.

usually theres guys with little RC cars zipping around to the shouts of “5 Dolla 5 Dolla!” or ladies hawking colored contact lenses.

you might even see a guy with a foot the size of a large pizza just sitting there in the middle of the walkway and i guess youre supposed to put money into his cup out of pity.

anyways the other day i didnt see any of those people, but i did see a guy with a plastic bag with a stuffed animal tail sticking out of it.

the gentleman would step on the bag and make cat screaming sounds.

it wasnt clear what he was selling: was it the plastic bag with the tail? did he have a device in his mouth that was for sale that sounded like a cat yelling in intense pain?

or was he just doing some dark, twisted, performance art?

my shopping companion suggested that he was merely creating a distraction and that we should hold on to our wallets, but im a trusting man so i was simply hoping that he was an artist, performing, right there in santee alley.

which probably isnt at all the case.

later i saw a lady selling little baby tshirts, for babies, that had the words “free chorizo” written on the front, with an arrow pointing down.

i pretended that she was a performance artist also.