THE HOT TEN
Also known as, "Items Not Worthy of Their Very Own Post, But I'm Gonna Share Anyway"

1. Trust Fund Boys: The Movie... coming to a theater near you? Probably not, but my agent just sealed the deal for a film option, so at least I'll make a few bucks. And my landlord and I like it when I make a few bucks.

2. Bird in the Atrium Update: three weeks, and still alive.

3. Random Observation #1: it's been a long time since I've seen Chrisafer call BoiFromTroy a tool. I hope he's not sick.

4. Scott-O-Rama Blog Feud Update: he caught me stalking him in Vegas, so -- embarrased -- I'm slinking away. But I shall return.

5. I saw Charlie last night and he sends everyone his best. Except, not really.

6. Random Observation #2: no matter what I'm looking for, every time I go into my picture file I come across the Dick Cheney Camel-Toe picture. Scary!

7. Recent referrers I don't understand:
toby vividblurry
ketel one and lesbians

8. Recent referrers I do understand:
where is TRL shoot at
"get to posh"

9. Random Observation #3: I guess I thought my insipid Pride Parade photographs were a lot funnier than you did. That, or you thought I was really excited about them.

10. Eh.

A FAMOUS AUTHOR ROB BYRNES WALTON PET PEEVE
Here's one last thing I want to leave you with today: I really hate it when you pronounce the T in 'often.' No, I mean REALLY.

I know the dictionary technically -- and begrudgingly -- says you can do it, but that T makes me, the Baby Jesus, and Condi cry.

Here is a good lesson:

The T is silent. You don't sound more intelligent by pronouncing the T, you just sound low-class and uneducated. You do not pronounce the T in the words soften, listen, glisten, fasten, chasten, gristle, epistle, apostle, bristle, rustle, hasten, and mistletoe, so why would you pronounce the T in often?

Just so we're clear. Thank you, and have a good night.

YEAH, SHE WAS LIKIN' HER PIZZA, MAMA
To echo Michele (the source for this story): Dumbest. Family. Ever.

My favorite line, from a news story full of great lines: "She told me to slow down because the baby's not in a car seat," said Julie Cohen.

::shaking head::

BEST. PARADE. PICTURES. EVER.
From the Heritage of Pride Parade (aka the Big Homo Parade) on Sunday.

Here I am with Bradykins:



We were across the street from TGI Friday's:
We almost grabbed a bite to eat, but then we remembered that TGI Friday's sucks, so we didn't.


Some guy looked like Sharpton, so we took his picture:
Turns out he was a professional impersonator. Crazy, right?


Mmmm. Chipotle...



I'm really disappointed that the photo of the Altoids float didn't come out, but I think this gives you a good flavor for what you missed. Until next year, have a Holly, Jolly Pride!

UGH
Would someone please put me out of my misery?

Stupid Cumming.

IN MOURNING
I'm sorry, but blogging will probably be a bit light for the next few days. I learned this morning that my long-lost father -- not that guy in Rochester; my real father, who loved me more than anyone else ever has -- died yesterday in a light plane crash.

WHY?!!!!! OH GOD, TAKE ME, AND LET HIM LIVE!!!!!

I can't believe this has happened only days after he phoned e-mailed left a note on my door, carefully printed in block letters, revealing for the first time that he was my father, and seeking a reconciliation.

OH GOD!!! THIS TRAGEDY IS ALMOST TOO MUCH TO BEAR!!!

I lived through 45 years never knowing that he was my real father, and now -- just days before we were to meet -- fate has torn him from me.

AAAAAHHHHHH!!! NO!! NOOOOOOOOOOooooooOOOOO!!!

I am so overcome. I'm going to need some tranquilizers and a few good lawyers to get over this.


RIP, Real Daddy

THE WINNIE-THE-POOH MASSACRE
When will the carnage end?!

Just like Jefferson and Adams. History repeating.

APPARENTLY, I'M NOT SPENDING ENOUGH TIME WATCHING PRE-FAB ENTERTAINMENT
Via the Gideonse Bible, here is the list of movies, documentaries, and TV shows that incoming students at the USC Film School are expected to have seen. Following Ted's lead, I've bolded what I've seen (or partially seen.) And, yes, I know you are going to be shocked at some of the omissions.

What can I say? I like making my own entertainment.

MOVIES:
A Hard Day's Night
African Queen
Alice in the Cities
Alien
All About Eve
Amadeus
American Friend, The
American Grafitti
Annie Hall
Apartment, The
Apocalype Now
Apu Trilogy, The
Band of Outsiders
Band Wagon, The
Barton Fink
Battle of Algiers
Being John Malkovich
Bicycle Thief, The
Big Lebowski, The
Black Orpheus
Blade Runner
Blow-Up
Blue
Blue Velvet
Bob le Flambeur
Bonnie and Clyde
Boyz 'n the Hood
Breathless
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid
Carrie
Casablanca
Children of Paradise (Les Enfants du Paradis)
Chinatown
Cinema Paradiso
Citizen Kane
Clueless
Coal Miner's Daughter
Contempt
Conversation, The
Cool Hand Luke
Crimes And Misdemeanors
Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
Deep End, The
Dekalog
Dersu Uzala
Diner
Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, The
D.O.A. (1950)
Do The Right Thing
Dog Day Afternoon
Donnie Darko
Double Indemnity
Dr. Strangelove
Eat, Drink, Man, Woman
8 1/2
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
Exorcist, The
Fallen Idol, The
Fight Club
Fish Called Wanda, A
Five Easy Pieces
Force of Evil
Godfather, The (I & II)
Gone With the Wind
Graduate, The
Grand Illusion
High and Low
High Noon
House of Sand and Fog
It Happened One Night
Jaws
Jules and Jim
King of Marvin Gardens, The
Kramer Vs. Kramer
La Jetée
La Strada
Lady Eve, The
Last Tango in Paris
L'Avventura
Lawrence of Arabia
Le Boucher
Le Samouraï
Letter from an Unknown Woman
Like Water for Chocolate
Man for All Seasons, A
Matrix, The
M*A*S*H
Memento
Midnight Cowboy
Miller's Crossing
Mother and the Whore, The
Morocco
Mulholland Drive
Nashville
Network
Night Moves
Ninotchka
Notorious
On the Waterfront
Once Upon a Time in the West
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest
Out of the Past
Paths of Glory
Patton
Point Blank
Producers, The
Pulp Fiction
Raging Bull
Ran
Rashomon
Rear Window
Red
Red Balloon, The
Repo Man
Rules of the Game
Safe
Searchers, The
Seven Samurai
Seventh Seal, The
Shanghai Express
Shock Corridor
Shoot the Piano Player
Silence of the Lambs
Stagecoach
Star is Born, A (1937)
Star Wars
Stranger Than Paradise
Sullivan's Travels
Sunset Boulevard
Talk to Her
Thelma and Louise
Third Man, The
Tin Drum, The
Touch of Evil
Traffic
Trouble in Paradise
2001 - A Space Odyssey
Umbrellas of Cherbourg, The
Unbearable Lightness of Being, The
Underworld U.S.A.
Unforgiven
Verdict, The
Vertigo
White
Wild Strawberries
Wizard of Oz, The
Written on the Wind
Woman in the Dunes
You Can Count on Me

DOCUMENTARIES:
Sorrow and the Pity, The
Harlan Country, USA
Dogtown and Z Boys
My Architect
Triumph of the Will
Hoop Dreams
Roger and Me
Super Size Me
Grey Gardens
Gimme Shelter
Crumb
Spellbound
Capturing the Friedmans
Riding Giants
The War Room
Don't Look Back
Brother's Keeper
What the Bleep do we know?
The Thin Blue Line
Fast, Cheap and Out of Control
The Kid Stays in the Picture
Thelonious Monk: Straight No Chaser
Control Room
The Celluloid Closet
Sans Soleil
Poto and Cabengo

TV:
Six Feet Under
The Sopranos
Sex and the City
Freaks and Geeks
All in the Family
MASH
Seinfeld
24
Arrested Development
Gilmore Girls
Good Times
The Wonder Years
The Shield
The Wire
The Office

No 'Kolchak: The Night Stalker'? What kind of list is this, anyway?

MY VERY, VERY, VERY GAY SUNDAY
I was at New York City's Big Gay Parade yesterday. Did you see me? I was in the green shirt. Yeah, that was me.

Anyway, it was a beautiful day for a parade yesterday, except it was about 160 degrees on Fifth Avenue. I figure we should just get used to it, 'cause it's going to be a lot hotter when all of us sodomites are burning for etenity in hellfire. See? The glass is half-full!

My favorite post-parade news item:

Mayor Michael Bloomberg, U.S. Sen. Charles Schumer and City Councilman Bill Perkins, who handed out roses, were among the politicians marching.

Bloomberg was asked if, along the lines of the pronouncements he makes at ethnic celebrations such as the St. Patrick's Day and Puerto Rican Day parades, he would declare himself gay for the day.

"Let me get back to you on that," he said.

That's okay, Mike. Really.

As for the rest of the weekend, it, too, was very gay, involving gay parties, gay bars, gay charades, gay flirting, gay dining, and gay sex. (Not me, of course, but others. Or so I hear.)

I am now officially rainbowed-out, and seriously considering the option of heterosexualization.

You believe me, right?

WONKETTE: 429 DAYS BEHIND THE CURVE
TRL, on April 20, 2004.

Wonkette, on June 23, 2005.

Watch for her take on the attack-cicadas in upcoming weeks.

It's tough being a trendsetter, people. But I'll keep at it, because you deserve it.

ARCH-ENEMY WATCH
Mmmmm...yeah, okay, whatever.

Related:

WEST SIDE BOY

You scored as Hell’s Kitchen/ Theatre District. Resturants, broadway, theatre, times square... this is the neighborhood people probably think of first when they think of New York. Thanks for taking my test! -Susan Hell’s Kitchen/ Theatre District 89% Financial District/Battery Park 78% Chelsea 67% El Barrio 61% Inwood 50% Upper West Side/ Morningside Heights 39% Stuyvesant Town 39% Harlem 33% Kips Bay 33% Washington Heights 28% Upper East Side 28% China Town 17% Alphabet City 17% SoHo/ TriBeCa 11% Which neighborhood in Manhattan is best for you? created with QuizFarm.com

(Via Teej)

ADVOCATE.COM CELEBRATES PRIDE!
From the Department of Best Foot Forward, I bring you the current banners at the top of the Advocate.com homepage:



I can't wait for their 'How Hot is Barebacking, Anyway?' poll.

GAY-VAGUER THAN THOU
The last 30 hours have been a real eye-opener for me.

First, the Sunday New York Times gave its readers -- which included me, this week, since the deli was out of the Post -- a guide to the straight-gay vague-gay continuum, which indicates that I just might be (gasp!) heterosexual. Of the nine items on their chart, I could only state a preference for five; and, of those, I selected the 'straight' option four times and the 'gay vague' option once. Pathetic! I almost turned in my OCR collection.

But my shock was compounded a short time ago, when Karen revealed that (gasp!) people in Provincetown think Patrick Doyle is straight. I dunno... must be the Tommy Hilfiger underwear.

Fortunately, things were put back in perspective when TMFTML -- the world's gayest straight boy -- went back to that Times chart and revealed the items that were edited out.

Whew. I can't speak for Patrick, but at least I'm gay again.

BLOG DRAMA, DAY 2-1/2
So I was going to be a nice guy and give Scott-O-Rama a graceful way to exit this little spat while saving most of his face. And what does he do?

This!

I would like to point out a few things to Mr. O-Rama. First, if you Google the phrase "Famous Author," my Blogger profile is the eighth result, as well as as the twelfth result (via Tin Man's blog), just in case you think the #8 ranking was a fluke. That means I'm the eighth most Famous Author ever. Do you hear me, Scott-O-Rama? Ever!

According to Google -- and remember, the guys who founded it are gazillionaires, so they know what they're doing -- that means I am more Famous than Fitzgerald, Hemingway, Hawthorne, Melville, Wolfe, King, Twain, Poe, all the Whartons and Brontes, Doctorow, Steel, Cartland, Clarke, Dostoyevsky, James, that other James, and all the guys who wrote the Bible.

I rest my case and want a retraction.

Now, in fairness to Scott-O-Rama, I thought I'd Google him to determine our respective levels of fame. But you know what I found? Besides a lot of personal ads, that is? That's right... Scott-O-Rama is a breathing apparatus facepiece! Do you understand what I'm telling you, blogosphere?!

He. Is. Not. Even. Human!

Okay... one last thing before I possibly let this drop for the weekend: Scott-O-Rama desecrated my photo, but hasn't posted a photo of himself as an adult. Fortunately, we have some mutual friends -- who will soon have to make a personally painful decision, of course, but I'll save that for another day -- and I was able to get a copy of his picture.

No desecration necessary. Now do you see why he's so bitter?

BLOG DRAMA, DAY 2
Bwahahaha! Scott-O-Rama thought he was zinging me. Little does he know he selected my theme song as his *ahem* 'Boogie Boogie Song of the Day.'

In any event, he does seem to know he is outmatched... and he's apparently desparate to end this intense blog war. Ordinarily, I would agree to go easy on him, but -- as you can see -- he has doctored my photo:

Now, I post many photos of myself on this blog, and not all are from my best side, but this mockery cannot be tolerated. And that 666 on my forehead? I would never seldom do such a thing!

I have to think about this. Do I ignore the insult, or take action? Or do I take the passive-aggressive route and integrate a character named Scott-O-Rama into the book I'm writing? So many options...

MOVE ALONG... PAY NO ATTENTION TO THE DRAMA
He just wants attention. By 'he,' I mean Scott-O-Rama, of 'cotton candy-colored blog fame.' Or is it 'old kitchen appliance-colored blog fame? Whatever.

Young Mr. O-Rama took exception to a few suggestions I had for Hot Toddy's Toaster Oven to improve the readability of his site, including de-linking Scott-O-Rama. Now, I must point out that I didn't think that Toddy would take all of my suggestions -- I was just brainstorming, which is what I do best after a long, long liquid lunch breakfast -- but I wanted to give him options. I'm sorry that Mr. O-Rama took exception, but I would have thought that he'd realize that I was just thinking about Toddy.

In any event, now he says he's returning my books to Amazon... which means war. Because as any published author or industry professional on my blogroll will tell you, no word makes us crazy the way 'return' makes us crazy.

So things could get a bit messy around here for the next few years days. Much as I know you want to rush over to Scott-O-Rama's blog and slap him bloody on my behalf, resist the urge...

Well, at least until I set loose the hounds.

I REMEMBER IT WELL...
For some reason I've been feeling a bit nostalgic, so I Googled the neighborhood where I grew up and found this picture, which was probably taken in Rochester less than three weeks ago:



[/nostalgia]

That got that out of my system. Now I can go back to being a heartless, self-righteous prick, and your equilibrium won't be thrown off.

SPELL-CHECK BROK
I was skimming Fark this morning and, after clicking on a story about a nekkid guy (of course), decided to check out the other news stories on the nekkid guy page. Mostly because I'm always interested in what the kids are up to in wacky Upstate New York.

And that's how I came upon this headline for the second to last item:

"STATE LAWMAKERS AGREE TO TELIVISE LEGISLATIVE SESSIONS"

My excuse is that I seldom bother spell-checking. What's theirs?

THE BIRD IN THE ATRIUM
Note to self: sounds like a short story title. Think of a short story to go with it.

Now, onto the bird. My office is on the mezzanine -- also known as the open second-floor level, if you happen to be one of the many people who seem to have never encountered the word 'mezzanine' before trying to find my office -- of a Midtown Manhattan office building. The lower levels of this building are built around an atrium, stretching from the lower level food court to the fifth floor.

Although the building is fairly well-sealed, with revolving doors serving as the main point of access, on occasion one of the non-revolving doors is used. On rarer occasion, a door is propped open. And that, I assume, is how a bird got into the atrium late last week.

And it's still there, trying to find its way out.

I let building management know about the bird, but no one seems to know how to get a sparrow off a window ledge 45 feet above the floor. And so it sits there, chirping and looking out the window at its little sparrow friends, flitting around the atrium and looking for a route to freedom.

In a way, the plight of the bird in the atrium is a parable for our very existence. We are all trapped in a vast, yet restricting, space... mere observers of a world in which we can no longer be a participant, wondering if this is all our lives are meant to be.

Oh wait. No, that's not what I'm wondering. I'm really wondering how long this stupid sparrow can survive in the atrium without food and water. All that chirping is starting to annoy me.

IN LIFE, OCCASIONAL MISTAKES ARE MADE
So say you're sending e-mail to a friend named, oh, 'Craig McCullough.' And Craig has a standard e-mail address: cmccullough@company.com. And so, as you do almost every morning, you type CMC in the 'to' line, and Outlook fills in the rest of the address.

And then, before you know it, you're sending really gay, really trashy e-mail to Chris McKenzie, who designed your company's web site.

Not that this happened to me this morning. But it could have happened. Theoretically.

Fortunately, it didn't theoretically happen yesterday.

THE ABUNDANT CROP OF THE FERTILE MIND
What my friends and I have e-mailed about this afternoon: poetry, human waste, bestiality, and Jessica Tandy.

At times, all in the same sentence. And that takes talent.


[This entry brought to you as part of my ongoing effort to educate the public on the realities of the Glamorous Lives of Famous Authors.]

I CAN REMEMBER THE EXACT MOMENT I BECAME A CLINTON-HATER
It was three minutes ago, when I read this:

U.S. Sen. Hillary Clinton, D-N.Y., earned $2.4 million in royalties from her book of memoirs, Living History, last year, according to Bloomberg News, citing a financial disclosure filed with the U.S. Senate.

The book, published by Simon & Schuster in June 2003, generated $2.3 million in royalties for Mrs. Clinton during its first year of publication. Royalties for her 1996 book, It Takes a Village, rose to $10,012 last year, compared with $1,238 in 2003.

On the other hand, I can take strange and surprising consolation from the fact that The Night We Met apparently outsold It Takes a Village in 2003.

DEAR MICHAEL...
I hope you don't mind me addressing you by your first name, but -- even though we've never met -- I feel that's appropriate, since we're talking Famous Person to Famous Person here. Also, we have a connection in that we were born in the same year, a phenomenon we share with Madonna, Kevin Bacon, Charlene Tilton, Billy Hufsey, and Andy Gibb.

Anyway, I was talking to some friends last night, and learned you've been in the news lately. I don't know how I missed that. Sorry. But now that I know, I thought I'd take this opportunity to congratulate you on your acquittal and pass on a little free advice.

So, uh... congratulations!

Now for the advice:

1. You like them young. I do, too! Okay, we differ in that I like them old enough to be in the House of Representatives, and you like them old enough to be in Home Alone, but I sort of understand where you're coming from. Still, at our age, it's probably not cool to exclusively surround yourself with kids young enough to be our grandchildren, if we weren't gay. Which you aren't, of course, because you are as straight as Tom Cruise. And Liberace.

2. The hair, the nose, the glove, the armbands, the uniforms, the skin tone, the Elephant Man, Bubbles... I hate to be the one to break this to you, but none of these things actually work in your favor. You might want to get a makeover. And a cocker spaniel to replace the chimp.

3. I know you're sort of stuck with your birth family -- you do not walk alone, my friend -- but I would encourage you to think very carefully about adding to it. Yes, I've dated some doozies over the years, but I would never actually have married Elvis's daughter. And while it's all very well and good to procreate, please keep in mind that you are not legally required to do so. Also, 'Blanket' is not a good name for a child.

4. Similarly, you should take another look at your handful of grown-up, post-pubescent friends. I think these people are bad influences on you... the kinds of neighbor kids your parents really wouldn't want you playing with. Here's a good rule of thumb: if a person was invited to the Liza Minnelli-David Gest wedding, or is actually Liza Minnelli or David Gest, he or she should not be your close friend or confidant. Except for maybe Liz Smith, who seems potentially fun.

5. Call it what it is. Jesus did not have a juice named after him.

6. Don't do bad sexual-molesty-type things to children. I'm not saying you did... I'm just saying.

If you follow my advice, I think you'll find that your life will be much less dramatic, and I'm sure you can put all those courtroom hours to better use. And now that we've become acquainted on a Famous-to-Famous basis, feel free to call on me at any time.

YOU CALL IT AN ULTIMATUM; I CALL IT A DARE
It all could have been prevented with just a little bit of tact. But, no, when I texted my friends from my train as it eased out of Penn Station on Friday afternoon, Greg sent me back the following message:

I'm not playing 'Entertain Rob because he's bored on the train.'

Greg, of course, was wrong. Maybe he wasn't entertained, but I was certainly entertained over the next three hours and twenty minutes, because every ten minutes or so I'd fire him off a text:

Whatcha doing?

What's happening now? Does it look like it might rain again?

Did you ever see Jaws 3-D? I thought it was kind of stupid.

I just saw a squirrel.

What do you think Tom Bosley is doing right now?

There's a guy on the train who looks a lot like Darren McGavin, But not if you get a good look at him. Could always be a distant cousin, though... although probably not, so never mind.

Still at work? When are you leaving?

If you spell Ohio backwards, it spells Oiho.

Until, finally, I was at Union Station and sent my final text:

Guess what? You did, in fact, entertain me all the way to DC. I win! Bored now.

I cannot wait until my next trip. And aren't you glad I don't have your cell phone number?

HELLO GOODBYE
Yes, I know I've been a bad blogger this week. Unfortunately, there has been a lot of work and a lot of work-drama, which isn't exactly work but sometimes goes with the territory. In any event, work always comes before blogging, so that's that.

And in a few hours I'm heading to DC for the weekend, so you'll get no TRL Treats until Monday, at the earliest.

I apologize to my six readers, and will try to make it up to you. At my own pace, of course.

AHEM
I don't want to brag, but as of this moment -- this moment being 5:15 PM Eastern on the Sixth of June, 2005 -- I am the #6 search engine result for this.

Y'know, even when a person tries to be modest, the truth gets out. Just sayin'...

HOW I SPENT MY FRIDAY NIGHT
"Hello? There's a party? I'll be right over!"


"I think I'll just sit here in the corner and... hmmm... Is that a glass of wine on the table? Well... maybe just one."


"I wonder why drinking six glasses of wine makes me want to chain-smoke."


"I wonder why drinking sixteen glasses of wine make me act... uh... silly. Does this hair make me look like Bradykins? Oh, and Greg, those lips had better not be going where I think they're going!"


"So... so... tired..."


ADDENDUM: And I spent Saturday on the couch, wishing I would just die. The End.

FAMILY TIES
Get some chlorine! We need to shock this family gene pool.

THAT WOULD BE AN 'OOPS'
...and New Jersey Republican gubernatorial candidate Brett Schundler concluded his remarks by saying, "Not only are we going to Fort Lee, we're going to Cape May and Saddle Ridge and Elizabeth and Millville, and we're going to Atlantic City and Hoboken and West New York. And we're going to Camden and Metropark and Ho-Ho-Kus and Perth Amboy. And then we're going to Trenton to take back the Governor's Mansion. YAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!"

OH, AND ANOTHER BAD THING ABOUT BEING A FAMOUS AUTHOR...
Sometimes the fans can be a bit... obsessive.

UPDATE: Link faxed fixed. (Damn, I'm having a hard time with the keyboard today!)

GREG HERREN WRITES THE TRUTH
Thanks to Becky (thanks, Becky!) I now have the top-secret address to gay novelist Greg Herren's blog. Well... LiveJournal, if you want to get picky, but still the same thing.

(Which reminds me that I still owe Greg something -- more on that later -- and had better put my brain in gear. Don't you hate putting your brain in gear?)

Anyway, while skimming his entries I came across this from a few weeks ago. You aspiring writers out there should take note, because it's the absolute truth.

UPDATE: Screeeech! I have a brief clarification I'd better make before I get in trouble. I am not dissatisfied with my publisher or editor, so don't read that into this entry. I just want to second what Greg wrote about the financial nature of the industry. Writers wait a loooong time for royalty checks (outside my advance, I still haven't seen any money from Trust Fund Boys, which hit the shelves a year ago), and almost all of us pay our own way when we do publicity... which is the main reason you haven't seen me in your town on a book tour. So don't expect to get rich quick, and don't expect to be whisked around the world as soon as your book is published.

In other words, don't quit your day job. Unless you're him.

ALL TOGETHER NOW: DUH!

You scored as Penis. You are attracted to the: penis. You are a penis man/woman. Penis 92% Abs/Stomach 75% Face 58% Butt 33% Boobs 33% What Body Part Are You Attracted To?(pics) created with QuizFarm.com

In other fun news:

You scored as Gunshot. Your death will be by gunshot, probably because you are some important person or whatever. Posion 73% Gunshot 73% Stabbed 47% Natural Causes 40% Eaten 40% Bomb 33% Suicide 33% Accident 33% Cut Throat 27% Drowning 20% Disease 20% Suffocated 13% Disappear 7% How Will You Die?? created with QuizFarm.com

And, finally, the most relevant Internets* quiz I have ever taken:

You scored as The Stud. Often seen as the quiet loner, you often dress in leather and stand in the rain hoping to meet a potential lover. The Stud 50% The Pretty-Boi Dyke 50% The Surprise! Dyke 40% The Sprightly Elfin Femme 40% The Magic Earring Ken Dyke 35% The Student Dyke 25% The Vaginal-Reference-Making Dyke 20% The Quasi-Gothic Femme 15% The Femme Fatale 15% The Granola Dyke 10% The Bohemian Dyke 5% The Hipster Dyke 5% The Little-Boy Dyke 0% What Type of Lesbian Are You? (Inspired by Curve Mag.) created with QuizFarm.com

* -- Note to self: that whole 'Internets' joke has, I think, finally played out. So stop doing it!

WEDNESDAY REVIEW OF THE NEWS
Heh. That title makes it seem as if it's some sort of regular feature of this blog. As you know -- since you've been reading TRL for decades -- it's not. But I've got a busy day shaping up and this is the quickest way I know to update and get out of here.

First, the news everyone is talking about. Deep Throat is revealed to be:


Oh wait, that's not Mark Felt. Let me try uploading that picture again:


Which means that John Dean is finally, at long last, irrelevant.

And in other news, here's a headline you'd never expect to find on the AP wire:

"Bomb threat causes evacuation of downtown Pottsville"

Okay, that's all I've got. Get back to work.