Overheard on the #8 bus: "I had a dream about Katie Couric. Who the hell dreams about Katie Couric? In my dream she was a lesbian. I need better dreams."

No arguments here.

While delightful images of Katie Couric's lesbian colon dance in your heads, let me take the opportunity to announce that NEENER, NEENER, NEENER--I HAVE A SECRET! What is it, you say? You want me to TELL YOU, you say? Well, then it wouldn't be a very good secret, now would it? But I'll give a little hint....

Rhymes with FANNY!

Don't worry. All will be revealed in due time....

Did everyone catch Leslie Miller's interview with Faye Dunaway on Q13 on the 31st? Me neither. (Flash Gordon was on Sci-Fi. FLASH GORDON!) But I HEARD that Faye was be-yatching about the term "DIVA." She claimed that she had been "manipulated" by the "Hollywood Machine" into playing murderously driven, Tina-beating, Supergirl-loathing neurotics. Uh huh. Have I ever told ya'll about the time I was working my way through college as a (very sexy) bellboy at a five-star hotel? Miss Dunaway--stark raving naked and dripping wet--yanked a petrified housekeeper into her guestroom, frantically demanding that the terrified maid tell her "what people wear in this damn city!"? She claimed that she couldn't leave her room until the maid helped her select the appropriate ensemble. (Insert wire hanger joke here.) Diva? No.

Although I like to stick close to home for star dish: Last week the carnival of weirdness known as Michael Jackson announced that he's lobbying for a special day of recognition for the little ones--"Kid's Day"--putting ankle-biters on par with the likes of veterans and/or groundhogs. Isn't it cockle-warming to know that the incredible melting M. J. holds the little ones in such high esteem?

Brandon was innocently counting out his cash drawer in the backroom--as any supervisor at the Broadway Rite Aid is expected to do. Suddenly a call came crackling over the PA system. "We need check approval at checkout!" But Brandon was in the middle of counting! He sped up, but the frantic call came again, "We need check approval at checkout!" Sensing something urgent in his co-worker's voice, Brandon rushed to the register. There, waiting to get his check approved and looking madder than a wet wasp, was Tom Skerritt! Brandon realized that he had just pissed off Maverick's commanding officer in Top Gun--not only the top grossing film of 1987, but the most homoerotic movie since Caligula.

Confidential to Tom: It's 2002. Get a debit card.

celebisawu@thestranger.com