Doth mine enchanting azure-green peepers deceive me, or did some great idiot refer to my darling mentor Dan Savage as a "feckless fucker" in last week's Letters to the Editor? Well! I will have it known that my Danny has more feck in his pink little pinky than most fucks do in their entire fecking frames.

And did I forget to tell you? The fiasco? Charming. I rushed off to Miss Savage's live reading at Bailey/Coy Books so's he could autograph my copy of his new work, Fumbling Towards Gonorrhea, which I'd shoplifted earlier. I arrived two nanoseconds late, and the vicious queen at the door wasn't inclined to let anyone pass--not me, not Stranger managing editor/hot mama Min Liao, not the surly blond broad who'd barreled in from Olympia and was just fit to be tied, let me tell you. Could that, like, BE any more retarded? But from outside in the fecking rain, it looked like quite a crowd. Dan sure knows how to (fudge)pack 'em in.

And everyone, everyone, please calm down. Perennial wet dream Danny Roberts has not moved. Well, yes, he and his partner in (sex) crime Paul have vacated their top-secret Belltown dwelling (yes, that's where it was) for a brand-new top-secret love hut somewhere else. But they haven't left Seattle, silly! In fact, the twosome tossed a little soiree last Saturday to warm their precious new two-bedroom domicile, and you know? I searched my eyes out trying to find a single ugly person among the stylish, housewarmy crowd before I finally threw my hands up and conceded that Danny and Paul just don't know any. I won't say much more about the gathering because name-dropping is tacky and the house party is a sacred trust, but at the risk of waxing indiscreet, and for the sake of all Danny-lusting faglets out there, I will say this: IN YOUR FACE!

And Shirley Manson was barely spotted at Tini Bigs last week. "Truth be told, I didn't even notice her there," writes barely-Shirley-spotting "Tim." Which really irks me, since everyone's uncle seems to have noticed No Doubt snarfing at the Palace Kitchen on the exact same night. Listen: Shirley Manson RULES Gwen Stefani's pasty, talent-free-by-comparison ASS, and the terrible fact that Gwen fecking Stefani is recognized while the unspeakable fabulousness called Shirley Manson sits hardly noticed is a fecking injustice of Amnesty International proportions in this green-eyed monster's book.