When the terrible need has arisen to refer to her in any way whatsoever, I've often possibly referred to Whitney Houston--who is, of course, something of a drugged-out snatch--as something of a drugged-out snatch. This attitude stems from neither rumor, salacious report, nor vague suspicion on my part, but, indeed, from horrible, scarring personal experience. (I've probably told the story tons of times--try Googling it.) Therefore, it will probably come as little or no surprise to learn that the sad, drugged-out snatch (who was really mean to me one time! Google it!) has parked her sad drugged-out snatch-ass back in rehab in order to address her copious and unspecified drugging. "Whitney Houston has re-entered rehab," her insightful publicist repeated for emphasis. The crack was, indeed, wack however, and could not be reached for comment.

Yes, I said drugged-out snatch-ass. Do you hear me? Snatch-ass!

"Dear Adrian, My band, DragStrip Riot, was in Vancouver BC and a friend of mine spotted Jon Heder (Napoleon from Napoleon Dynamite) dressed in hipster threads. He did not want to be noticed and asked that my friend keep it quiet. --Knuck"

Dear Knuck: Did you notice how HUNG that little weirdo is? Check out the scenes in Napoleon Dynamite when he's wearing those retarded, tie-dyed drawstring pants and clearly no underwear. Egads! He's got more swing than baseball season! --Adrian

Before departing all things drugged out and assy: If you remember Billy Idol, which you don't, and if you indulge in illicit drugging of any sort, which you do, you will be thrilled to hear that Billy has definitively confirmed that chemical addiction is fabulous for one's figure. "Drugs'll kill you as well, but you'll have a thin corpse… I can't jiggle a ton of fat around; it's embarrassing," the skinny old corpse recently said in some magazine interview. Why any magazine anywhere would want to interview Billy Idol anymore is almost beyond human comprehension, and should only be dwelled upon when really, really high.

Next: "Dear Adrian, I stopped in that hat store near Third Avenue, and sitting very quietly in a chair was a blonde spiky-haired dude wearing dark shades and a scarf. It was Rod Stewart watching me try on hats! I smiled and gave a friendly wave. He nodded, and in a husky voice and unmistakable accent said, 'Hello!' --Bones"

Dear Bones: You're right--Rod Stewart does look like a fat Billy Idol. He should hit a few lines or something. --Adrian

Lastly: I've never, under any circumstances, fixated upon Napoleon Dynamite's gigantic penis. Any contradictory information regarding the subject is a lie started by Whitney Houston to destroy me. Snatch-ass!

Send! adrian@adrianryan.com