When I was 6, I was adorable, and I called porcupines "porky-pines" and junk like that. I bring this up merely to distract you from the current "Harry fucking Potter dating some chick from Seattle" business, because, frankly, I smell fishes—ratty, ratty fishes. As I delve deeper into this story (and, OH! how deeply I have delved!), I find that it is simply riddled with oddness; drenched in unlikely peculiarities. For instance? Never you mind. In fact, let's just ignore the issue entirely for the time being, pray for a clarifying breakthrough, and talk about more likely things. Like porky-pines. Isn't that just too fucking adorable? "Porky-pines!"
"Dear Adrian, Maybe Harry fucking Potter is dating one of those cute teen girls from the Seattle band Smoosh."—T.D.
Dear T.D., I am fairly certain that I just explained that we won't be discussing Harry fucking Potter this week. What the hell's the matter with you? And no, I really don't think it's one of the cute girls from Smoosh. Not even a little.—Adrian
Then, in a flurry of remarkable abs: Jay-Z was in town recently, and somebody tossed his salad. I am forbidden to reveal precisely where Jay-Z's salad was tossed, and by whom, but you can bet that Jay-Z's salad was well and thoroughly tossed.
And, oh! What an amazing salad it was!
"Adrian, I picked my friend up from the steamy and usually tranquil Hot House spa on Sunday. She was fuming. Susan Powter (complete with heaps of blond-dread hair extensions and some fake-looking ta-tas) was getting a little too frisky with a female friend in the hot tub, 'bumping tummies and tickling each other.' Another spa-goer asked them (kindly) to knock off the flirting as it was making her uncomfortable, at which point Ms. Fitness went off on the poor girl in a very non-spa voice about feminism and empowerment, and generally turned the mood of the place into a den of hostility."—Amy
Dear Amy, Susan Powter once tried to fuck me in the ass with a big floppy strap-on—then she used it to toss Jay-Z's salad! Not really, of course.—Adrian
"Adrian, I saw Daniel Radcliffe with his muggle girl in a local guitar store! She was a bit plump and had blondish hair. She wore pink and yellow and was nice. They looked very much in love. My name is James. I'm from Seattle."
Dear James, I don't believe a word of it. My name is Adrian. I dwell in oblivion.
Send proof! firstname.lastname@example.org