Scary Things

Now Puff Daddy wants to start a political talk show.... Can I ask how much longer we're going to indulge this dickweed's asinine fantasies? It's bad enough we've got to put up with his MTV show, his Broadway role, his restaurant and sweatsuits and perfumes, his constantly reminding us how he's from the ghetto when he really lives in East Hampton next door to Steven Spielberg, and his insipid stage name changes. (I don't care what Sean is calling himself these days; I'm gonna keep calling him what I've always called him -- "that pompous jackass with the girly sparkling earring.") What gets me is how disingenuous he is: pretending he's someone with a talent other than wearing a suit. At least Nelly also has the ability to get himself shot. But back to my original point, do we really need another no-talent charlatan manipulating the retarded American public? I guess on the plus side, it's not like Puffy's constituency actually takes a break from pimping their rides long enough to get to the voting booths.

And speaking of creepy, ugly things, I found a giant mutant spider when I went to put on my sandals this morning. Naturally, I freaked out and screamed like a little girl, but you have to understand that this was a freaking humongous spider -- maybe two or three inches long, or the size of a mouse, or a Yorkshire terrier. With fangs and spikes. Look, if you saw it, you'd've been scared too, and you would've wanted a hug.