My friend Mara seems to have spotted Mary Kay Letourneau and that chicken of hers (Vili Somethingforeign—everybody says he's kind of hot now, I say something vague and admire the wallpaper) eating at the Broadway Grill, which is located, as you might have suspected, on Broadway, where famous perverts and deviants of all sorts cavort in frivolous unabashedness and, apparently, eat at the Broadway Grill. If the evidence is to be believed. Which it is. And that's all I have to say about that.

Yay perverts!

"What's up, Adrian? Last Saturday I bumped into Nic from Gatsbys American Dream during the Saves the Day show at El Corazón. He was trying to convince the bouncer to let him into the bar; the fact that his driver's license is still vertical didn't help his case much."—Krys

Dear Krys, I'm dreadfully sorry, I don't follow the gang culture. Yo.—Adrian

Then! Rosie O'Donnell, whose name sounds like rude Irish vernacular ("Sure and why dontcha be cramming that giggy potato up in yer Rosie O'Donnell then, ye wee bastard!" for instance) is an evil lesbian robot with a mysterious agenda. This is a well-documented fact that somehow lends itself to the other fact that she has lately found herself inclined to somehow force her way onto some network mid-morning filler show called The View, which is rumored to be a fucking vagina fest—not that I'd know, as I distrust vaginas in general and television in particular. So why the hell we're still talking about Rosie O'Donnell is beyond me. Jesus.

"Adrian, While filling up at a 7-Eleven in Wallingford, we observed a lanky, familiar-looking man enter the store—the one and only Santino from Project Runway. We followed him inside and cornered him at the Slurpee machine, where we ineloquently expressed our appreciation of his work. He asked us for Slurpee recommendations and we urged him to consider indulging in a "Suicide" (or "Graveyard") mix. Then we stood awkwardly for a moment before excusing ourselves. He had not reached a Slurpee decision at the time of our departure. We both agreed that he was better looking in person than on TV."—Love, Maria and Braiden

Dear Maria and Braiden, One time Snoop Dogg wanted a massage because he was all stressed out from being all gangstery and I recommended this guy I know, and Snoop freaked like, "No way! I can't relax with no man's hands touchin' my body!" and I was all like, "Afraid of what might pop up?" and then I burst into girly giggles and rushed from the room before he could bust a cap in my ass or whatever. It was pretty cool.—Adrian

Send! adrian@thestranger.com