White trash should not be allowed to procreate.

Is anyone else afraid for her child’s life?

She went into a nasty fucking public bathroom with NO SHOES ON. Oh, for the love of god, someone take that kid away from these retards. Perhaps the first copy of Andy and Nightmare’s book should go to them.

Let’s just pray nanny doesn’t dress baby Federline in anything orange. Britney could mistake him for a cheetoh.

And, since we’re talking about Britney, is it me, or does it look like she got a facial here?

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My lunch with Celestia today was bizarre. First, because we have NEVER gone out to lunch together in the five years I have been at our company, and second, because she decided we needed to “re-evaluate our friendship”.

Friendship? What friendship?

She rambled on and on about a bunch of nonsense I don’t care about, and then I just told her she was crazy, and there was nothing wrong with out friendship that needed re-evaluating. It’s much easier to go along with her game than to argue with her. I don’t know what crazy-ass thing she’s going to do if I be honest. Like Jason says, you never know – her next personality might be the one with the knife.

She did, however, cry later on that afternoon when the sealer on the postage machine once again proved to be too much of a challenge.

I don’t want to be there when she tries to make two-sided copies.

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I bought the new Garbage CD today. Fucking awesome. Shirley Manson is the coolest chick in rock.

I can’t wait for the new Weezer CD to come out. I am such a nerd-rock groupie.

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Speaking of music, when I was about 21 or 22, I was hanging out with some friends in Hollywood, and we ended up at this club. It was some trendy club that I had no clue about, but my friends that I was hanging out with went to all these places, and we usually saw quite a few dumb drunk celebrities there.

So we were hanging out, drinking. A lot. My friend Ian came back from the bathroom and told me that he saw a rock star at the bar that I would be interested in. In my drunken state, we got up and went to the bar to get drinks, but really to gawk at the star.

I got close to the bar, and I realized that it was Dave Gahan, the singer for Depeche Mode. I was (well, still am) a lunatic DM fan when I was a teenager. I was an insanely fanatical fan (I have seen them live 20+ times), and had many a lusty adolescent fantasy about this man.

Ian, who is NOT shy, walked right up and started talking to him. It didn’t hurt that he worked at a talent agency, and knew all the right names to drop. He shook his hand, and made small talk for a minute, and then he looked at me. Dave Gahan looked AT ME. I stuck my hand out to shake his hand, and I don’t remember exactly what I said, but it came out something like this: “Hi. Fan Andria gurble jibber jabber Depeche Mode blurble blab blub love you. Glib glub Strangelove blee blah bloo.” I am not kidding. That’s how bad it sounded.