beyonce called, but fuck her. things get weird when i talk to her.

cher called, it was the wrong number.

david letterman called, but then he put me on hold.

angus young called and i said, i love you and he said, right back at you.

madonna, prince, rupaul, sting, eminem, shakira, britney, and liza called but none of them could get me stones tickets for the halloween concert at staples so i hung up on each of them, disappointed and put-off.

venus called, then serena, then their mom. fuck em all.

the president called and i said, legalize weed like britan did. he said, it’s not legal?

“spin” called and offered me a job, but they didnt really mean it. they havent meant it since 1989.

hef called, but he was just looking for ashley.

then anna called. my love. my true love. the girl of my dreams. my lil russian nite cap. the only girl. the reason some of you are here.

she said, quit recording my calls.

i said, done.

she said, quit using pictures of me when you talk about me, it makes me think that you only like me for what i look like.

i said, fine.

she said, and whatever you do, do not under any circumstances post another entry until at least three different readers comment in your comments section.

i said, uh…

she said, you get 500 people a day on your shit and you let them lurk. if they’re not going to give you money for a car any more, make them– a few of them at least– show some love.

i said, they show plenty of love.

she said, do you want me to call you again?

i said, yes, my dear.

she said, then dont let me see you write another post until this one gets at least three and your last one gets three. i liked your last one.

i said, then why didnt you comment?

she said, im commenting now, dumbass.

cute picture of the day