I Had A Pet Turtle Once. His Name Was Buddy.
He Really Liked Watching Charles In Charge.
So I Fed-Exed Him To Scott Baio.

I'm baaaaack. Well technically I've been back since Monday, but I've lost almost all my will to live blog, so, well, I haven't been posting. But here I am. In good old freezing cold New Hampshire. Where a Cherry Coke is a Cherry Coke, Wal-Mart is just a store and not a way of life, and everyone is not so goddamn SLOW, and I mean slow in every possible way, including the Corky Thatcher Burning Down The Family Restaurant And Shooting The Dog way and the Take Your Sweet Baby Jesus Time, It's Not Like I Have Somewhere Else I Could Be way. My suitcase was definitely lighter coming back (could be due to the unloading of Renee Zellweger's bastard son's 8 pound head into the Cape Fear river), but I think to compensate for this I now have a tumor/blood clot/mad cow/mini Robert DeNiro growing in my right leg. It's probably traveling to my brain at this very instant and my head will explode in a matter of seconds!


Things To Do In Denver North Carolina When You're Dead (Or Just Wishing You Were)

1. Watch Jenny Jones. And I don't mean watch like you watch Mighty Mouse or reruns of Magnum P.I.. I mean watch it as if your life depends on it. Because it just might if you live in North Carolina. Never mind that the show was cancelled last year, because, you see, Jenny Jones is a reputable source of information for those whose husbands like to dress up in women's panties and throw Tupperware parties, those whose children are in need of boot camp because they left the trailer park when they were specifically told not to and had sex at the age of 12 with cousin Billy-Bob and got knocked up in his car, which is probably where they will also give birth, and those who have secret crushes on their same-sex dog/cat/turtle and just don't know how to tell them with out Jenny's words of wisdom.


2. Get one of those Maps Of The Stars' Homes so you can see the who's who of North Carolina (the list includes such A-List celebrities as Tammy Faye Bakker, and Tammy Faye Bakker, and Tammy Faye Bakker. Oh, and Tammy Faye Bakker) and visit their houses. Excessive use of eye shadow and mascara/Drive-by shooting optional.


3. Try to come up with an escape plan/evacuation route for when the geese attack. I'm telling you, the geese in North Carolina far outnumber the people, even their poop outnumbers the people, so it's only a matter of time before life there turns into a remake of Hitchcock's Birds, only with geese instead of birds, and with everyone dying in the end except Tammy Faye Bakker who is revealed to have been wearing all that make up to cover up the fact that she is really a goose, and not just any goose, but the David Koresh of the goose world.


And that's all she wrote. Kind of like Murder, She Wrote, only with out murder or Angela Lansbury. Yeah, I'm tired. It's good to be back.