I Was A Teenage… Blog!

Yesterday was the 14th anniversary of Bill Hick’s untimely death. Today, William F. Buckley, Jr. passed away, not soon enough in my humble opinion. The odd thing is, they both had a similar take on the U.S. government’s “War on Drugs” policy. They hated it. Otherwise, I imagine had they both been gunning for the 3:10 to Yuma, yes, Buck’d be on his way to jail, but Hicks’d be pushing daisies, despite my best hero-worship.

I’m still recovering from the Obama rally in Dallas from last Wednesday. Inspiration just wears the hell out of me. The Texas Frightmare Weekend was a drain, too. It was so crowded, you know, like Mardi Gras but without all the dead people; and that was just the Obama rally! I was such a zombie when Saturday rolled around that I was of no help looking for this chic dressed like “Barbara” from Night of the Living Dead. Our intent was to eat interview her because she was such a total super fan dressed to the nines, but we unfortunately lost her. In other news, the only reason I’m watching the Oscars tonight is Jon Stewart. But I’m not about to give him tips on how to run his show like some hacks and whiners would. Blah.

This week in Dog News! Gawd, I can’t believe there’s so much news about dogs.

Here’s one about a Scottish Terrier named “Lurch.”

Here’s one found after a tornado.

Here’s one about “doggie Disneyland.”

Here’s another one about “therapy dogs.”

Here’s one about a chartbuster in New Zealand.

And even the ladies are finding dogs attractive enough to remove magical spells with them.

Romney is out. McCain is in. Huckabee and Paul are waaaay behind. But the Reagan beast is still falling apart.

I’ve been known to secretly camp, too, though I make it a point to not torture my guests.

Oh, man, for a second, I thought Harvard gave Paris Hilton an honorary degree… which would be like the Supreme Court giving George W. Bush the presidency…

Can’t Madonna hold a charity event without a commercial tie-in? Gucci for UNICEF! Pha-leez!

Britney slipped past the press without a police escort? Who would have thunk it?

You know this guy got a lot of poontang for being the Beatles’ yogi.

Looks like Brtiney’s manager is crazy too.