Does sharing my personal correspondence make me a filthy exhibitionist?
Of course it does.
"Dear Nikki,
In response to your recent e-mail entitled, 'Get Over Yourself, Justin Timberlake Is Not Gay'--yes he is. He has to be. Thanks for writing."
I guess I did know Alanis Morissette smoked. She's got one hand in her pocket and the other one is flicking a cigarette, if I remember my 1995 correctly. I just blocked the knowledge out. Filthy, filthy habit, listening to Alanis Morissette.
(I'm kidding--I adore Alanis Morissette. Shame on that mean little shit who [allegedly] kicked her in the shins in the Showbox alley.)
What it all comes down to is that everything is going to be fine, fine, fine, really. Or maybe not, not, not: Venting about Colin Quinn has exposed me to revolting Colin minutiae I'd sleep much easier sans. Such as? Something about Colin supposedly luring the family cat to lick his aroused pubescent crotch by smearing his balls with peanut butter and warm milk; or his supposedly getting jacked off by a priest this one time (in band camp? We may never know for sure). He also supposedly once got a blowjob from a tranny. Of course he also claimed that all the above sick shit happened before he was 15, but lotsa people claim lotsa things, honey. Especially on The Howard Stern Show, where he claimed all these things. And, ew.
(Okay--Colin also claimed that after housecats and Catholic priests he got into guys for a while, but if Colin Quinn is gay, I'm cutting off my nuts and moving to the jungle.)
I don't like to waste a lot of breath on local news-casters, so let's make this report of Bebe Emerman shopping at the Queen Anne Trader Joe's while "shrieking" into her cell phone that fascist task-master KIRO doesn't even give her "enough time to buy dog food" really, really brief.
Lastly, Johnny Rzeznik of the Goo Goo Dolls was allegedly seen cat fighting with an unidentified woman with "big blond hair" in the alley behind the W Hotel last week. He reportedly cat fought wearing camouflage pants and a black knit hat, and his opponent cat fought wearing big blond hair. Although we can only speculate whether or not this is the same big-blond-haired woman Johnny was spotted "cheesily" feeding pickup lines to (in Italian!) in the lobby of the W Hotel just last summer, it is clear that musicians should stay the hell out of alleys.
