I Don't Really Own A Blow Dryer, But I Swear On Lucky's Life Everything Else Is True

By now you may have heard the rumors. No, not the ones about me and the guys from Cake. And no, not the ones about me cloning Lucky (of Lucky Charms fame). Those have all been grossly exaggerated. It's the other potentially sleep-depriving rumors I feel I should clear up for you.


The Myth: I'm stalking Phylicia Rashad.

The Truth: Technically, it was Mrs. Huxtable I was stalking. And that was years ago. If Mrs. Huxtable can forgive me, so can you.


The Myth: I watched The Good Girl and then One Hour Photo immediately after and didn't blow my brains out in a fit of despair.

The Truth: I did actually blow my brains out. It just happened in the nightmare following the viewing of the aforementioned movies and really I didn't have any choice, Jennifer Aniston was telling me she was carrying my baby and I believed her, and Robin Williams was forcing me to get in the bathtub so he could take pictures. You would have done the same, my friend.


The Myth: I hate oatmeal.

The Truth: I hate oatmeal. Cream of Wheat though, I'm all over that creamy, wheaty instant goodness. You just can't buy stuff like that. Well you can, but let's not get technical here, ok?


The Myth: I'm stalking Steven Tyler.

The Truth: My rules have always been that it's not considered stalking if it takes place in a grocery store or if the alleged stalkee's first and last name could both be construed as first names.
So no, I am not stalking Steven Tyler.


The Myth: I blow dry my hair while in the bathtub.

The Truth: Well it does save time. And what can I say, I like to live dangerously. It gives my otherwise bland day that added element of "Will I or won't I make it out of the tub alive?". And sometimes that's just what a girl needs to keep on keeping on. (Yeah, I don't know what I'm talking about anymore either, don't worry.)


The Myth: I am the one that sends you those e-mails about enlarging your penis. Yeah, you know the ones.

The Truth: If I was the one who sent those out, let's be real, a lot more of you would be getting them. And reading them. And buying the products. And being all that you could be. In the armyyyy. Except not in the army.


The Myth: I am Bret Easton Ellis's bastard love child.

The Truth: Bastard is kind of harsh, I prefer "illegitimate" or even "abandoned at birth because I didn't like Huey Lewis". Well that's what I would say if it was true, but alas, Mr. Easton Ellis and I share no DNA and I'm not really disappointed except that I bet I could pick up a lot of guys by using that whole "abandoned at birth because I didn't like Huey Lewis" thing. Sigh. Oh well, I can't win them all I guess.


Everything else you may or may not have heard is a flat out lie subject to interpretation.