I think somebody famous is in town. I'm pretty sure it's a chick. I heard about it, then forgot about it, then remembered, then forgot again. Updates as the THC wears off.

"Dear Adrian, Is Kelly Osbourne still in town? I saw her (or an imposter) at the Northgate Subway. She had a red mohawk and chowed down on a sandwich. She didn't smell like greasepaint and pork rinds, but I do have a cold, so who's to say?"--C. B.

Dear C. B., It wasn't her. Don't ask me how I know. I just know. And thank you for engaging us in matters even more tattered and over-milked than Fred Durst's pitiable and withered doings. By which I mean his penis. TOUCH IT! TOUCH IT! TOUCH IT!

In hopefully other stuff: I was kidding. The THC never wears off. And there are never any famous chicks in town. Ever. And I never. Forget. A fucking. Thing.


Next: As to the terrible risks facing the unborn children of unhygienic parents who secretly chain-smoke like festering alley-whores, we turn to Britney Spears and Kevin Federline for some reason (who the fuck is that stinky dude, anyway? Honestly?). Unfortunately, the couple hacked like geriatric spaniels and was unable to form coherent syllables through their putrid tracheotomy holes.

Next again: Tori Amos was here, but that's not the famous chick I maybe forgot. But a witness who supposedly served her and her entourage in some capacity in or around the W Hotel suggested that Ms. Amos appeared to be in a somewhat foggy state of mind. Then I forgot what she was talking about. I guess I'll wait for the THC to wear off.

As to the ostensible madness of Natasha Lyonne: Dark and peculiar whisperings claim that she came crashing into the apartment next door, smashed shit up, and then informed her startled neighbor (whom I'm sure was still delighted to have the Natasha Lyonne pop in) that she was fixing to "sexually molest her dog." No shit. "I'm going to sexually molest your DOG!" she said. Supposedly. And now there's an arrest warrant. Updates as the THC wears off.

Lastly: If you're among the righteous citizens enraged by strange reports that international shortypants Emmanuel Lewis (You know! Webster!) escaped a well-deserved spanking (and possibly a big speeding ticket) by bribing cops with autographs, please be assured that the officers in question got in big trouble. Which is ironic. But still. According to a representative of the Warwick, Georgia Police Department maybe, "We'll be very disappointed if we find that officers actually exchanged leniency for autographs from Mr. Lewis. Autographs? Every idiot knows that Emmanuel Lewis grants wishes!" Nobody else was available for comment. Ever.

Send: adrian@adrianryan.com