Welcome to the Hotel Charlie Manson

Due to the 40th anniversary of the Sharon Tate murders, I just tapped into something that makes the borderline conspiracy theorist in me and my love/obsession of the Avocado Mafia and the rock and roll roots of Los Angeles in the late Sixties and early Seventies, combine and go bonkers.

And all of it is messily tied up with Charles Manson and his family.

As I said, as this is the 40th anniversary of the August 9th, 1969 Sharon Tate murders and the official death of the two-year-long 1967 Summer of Love, let’s start there.

Sharon Tate was a former fiancé and still friends of Jay Sebring - Sebring was murdered along with Tate. Jay Sebring was the hairdresser-to-the-stars and Warren Beatty’s friend, for whom Beatty made the movie “Shampoo. ” "Shampoo" lovingly chronicled the sleazy, but sexy world of beautiful houses in Laurel Canyon, Beverly Hills and Malibu, drugs, and wild sex that was rampant in 1968. All of which, it turns out, were deeply connected – and or mostly supplied by - you got it, Charles Manson.

Separating fact from myth and conspiracy theories is not easy to do in this giant bacchanal mess - none of which is helped by the fact that Manson and his family were all insane murderers - but the truth and connections are amazing and undeniable.

In 1968, Charles Manson lived with Dennis Wilson of the Beach Boys. Wilson admitted he freely partook of Manson’s endless supply of drugs and sex with drugged-up pretty hippy girls. This relationship started the germ that would grow into the fall-of-Rome that was soon to be West Los Angeles circa 1968.

The newest biggest drug to hit this scene was cocaine, which Manson had tapped into supplying and using way ahead of his time thanks to his desert biker gang connections. Hard as it seems to believe now, there was a time when the coolest people were doing a lot of cocaine and having a lot of casual sex.

Manson started to scare Wilson, so Wilson kicked him out of his Sunset Blvd house – this started the toxic hatred of Wilson by Manson - so Manson and his girls set up shop in Spahn Ranch, the site of a dilapidated former western movie set in the desert – later used by the Eagles in their "Outlaw Man" video. More about that later. (“Never go with a hippy to a second location.” Alec Baldwin’s Jack Donaghy, “30 Rock”)

Prior to the ugly eviction of the Manson family, Wilson and the Beach Boys actually recorded a Manson song, "Cease to Exist" which they changed to "Never Learn Not to Love." Much to my surprise, Manson turned out to be quite the talented songwriter. Manson’s songs were also used by other bands and singers including Guns ‘N Roses and Marilyn Manson.

Neil Young spoke openly about his admiration for Manson and his free-association musical style. It is speculated many of Young’s hit songs were inspired by the Manson family hippy girls with whom Young slept - among them “Cinnamon Girl” and “Cowgirl in the Sand” - in the party/orgies out at Spahn Ranch. The Spahn Ranch (Used in "Bonanza" and "The Lone Ranger") is where the rough Los Angeles outlaw biker culture blended uneasily, but forever, with the hippies of rock and roll.

After this time, Neil Young gave Manson a motorcycle - some speculate to pay a sex and drug dept – and Young tried to get Manson signed with Reprise Records. Something tells me Manson had spooked Young, and Young wanted to make him happy.

Manson was a racist and a fascist and devout follower of Hitler and mentioned Hitler’s Eagles Nest over and over again in his teachings and lyrics. He was also a firm believer in witchcraft and the occult. Call me crazy, but the (ahem) Eagles “Hotel California” mentions 1969 and “stabbing with their steely knives.” And “Witchy Woman”?

Apparently it was well-known, much to my surprise, that Doris Day and Charles Manson had been lovers and Day's son was a Manson follower, Terry Melcher. (Melcher reportedly gave Manson a luxury car, a Jaguar, on the condition Manson stop telling people about Manson's affair with his Mom) Terry Melcher was also a successful recording artist/producer who wrote songs with the Beach Boys. (If the coupling of the images of Doris Day and Charles Manson aren’t the seventh sign of the Apocalypse, I don’t know what is)

(Mom, if you’re reading about this Doris Day/Charles Manson hook up in heaven, I am sorry, but it appears to be true)

(And I’m not even going to go into the gay-sex allegations – Manson was maybe the only and truly bi-sexual man on the planet – about Red Skelton, Cary Grant, Robert Conrad, (gulp) Peter Falk and (double-gulp) Elvis Presley)

Doris Day's son, Terry Melcher, was so enamored of Charles Manson he decided to produce a musical documentary about Manson, until Melcher became unnerved at the sight of Manson brutally stomping a drunk stuntman nearly to death at Spahn ranch. At that point, Melcher dropped all contact with Manson, further infuriating Manson with his Beach Boy connections.

Neil Young introduced fellow Canadian Joni Mitchell as well as his CS&N band mates, David Crosby, Graham Nash, Stephen Stills, into this wild lifestyle. They all lived at and around Topanga Canyon, Malibu/Zuma, Coldwater Canyon and Laurel Canyon and – although there isn’t photographic evidence to link all of these players with Manson - it is impossible they didn't know each other well, and probably shared drugs or sex or both, through these endless parties.

For example, Eric Clapton was busted for drugs in 1968 along with Terry Melcher in whole-party-sting-arrest at a Topanga Canyon house, although the chargers were later dropped. Not that it puts Clapton directly with Manson, but . . .

Some say the California trend of “Hey, let’s have orgy sex with many beautiful people at the same time, but don’t tell anyone about it” can first be credited to Hugh Hefner and the Playboy mansion, but Manson certainly put a hip, drug-driven, rock and roll spin to it.

The orgies apparently begat real relationships as Joni Mitchell was linked with everyone in “Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young.” So was Judy Collins. Mitchell admits she wrote “Help Me” about Glenn Frey of the Eagles. Later on it was the same story with Don Henley and Linda Rondstadt and Stevie Nicks. “Suite Judy Blue Eyes” was written by Stephen Stills about Collins. The list goes on and intertwines seemingly forever.

What a tangled web we weave indeed, Don Henley. “Have sex with a celebrity and write a hit song about it" screamed the mantra of the times. Cue: Carly Simon's "You're So Vein."

The regulars at these wild Malibu, Sunset Blvd, Laurel Canyon debacles were the who’s who of rock in the late sixties. Including, you got it, the Who. You name them, starting with Clapton, Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Dylan, the Mamas and the Papas to the Beatles to the Rolling Stones, the Doors (Jim Morrison was a client and friend of Manson-murdered hairstylist-to-the-stars-Jay Sebring ) and Led Zeppelin, all admit to being at and were witnessed at these “Shampoo”- like orgies combining famous celebrities, wanna-be-starlets, Manson's sex slaves, music, acid, pot, coke, and lots of wild bondage and spanking multiple-partner sex.

The soundtrack to these parties could be Led Zeppelin's "Misty Mountain Hop."

Now, I don't want to say the Laurel Canyon parties were all satanic debacles. I'm sure there were amazing wine-and-pot generated sweet moments of the sunset through the leafy trees and all of these amazing musicians harmonizing and playing acoustic guitars. It has been rumored that Keith Richards wrote "Wild Horses" with L.A.-based Graham Parsons ( they were good friends) at such a party and, as it is one of my favorite love songs, I would love to believe that is true.

One of those celebrities who flat out admits - and seemingly brags about - having multi-partner sex with Manson at these parties is none other than Jane Fonda. (Her father, Henry Fonda, had lived in the same house on 10050 Cielo Drive where Tate was murdered, but I am not implying a connection. But it does speak to how close Manson was to all of this back then)

Want a good creep out? Google Earth: Cielo Drive, Laurel Canyon California. It is remarkable how infested-with-celebrities that wealthy neighborhood was/is. Joni Mitchell’s house (which inspired Graham Nash’s sweet song “Our House”) was probably close enough to hear Sharon Tate’s screams across the canyon on that fateful August night.

Myth started blending into reality which turned into cold hard cash as these drug and sex fueled parties started producing some eye-popping success in the music world. “Going to California” by Led Zeppelin was like an open invitation: come to California and take drugs and play music and have sex with Manson’s wild and brain-washed hippy girls. And while you’re at it, why not pay for it all by writing a hit song about it?

Everyone in the country knew about these wild California rumors, but it not only turns out to be true times ten, it turns out the epicenter of the whole thing was none other than Charles Manson. Many famous participants, like Jane Fonda, freely admit it. Although there are no receipts and bills connecting the sex and drugs directly to Manson, if famous people are, even now, willing to admit they did drugs and had sex with a famous convicted mass murderer, I am inclined to believe them.

And if all of that wasn’t crazy enough, Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin and the rat pack and the mafia all come into play. It is known that the LaBianca’s – also murdered by Manson – were randomly selected to be killed, but they were also connected to the mob and Sinatra. Dean Martin’s daughter admitted to having sex with Charles Manson. Frank Sinatra was also known as a regular at these parties.

Where things turned on this scene was obviously the tragic, insane night of August 9th, 1969. The Laurel Canyon/Beverly Hills 10050 Cielo Drive house Tate rented was owned by a producer of the Beach Boys, Rudi Altobelli – who also, surprise, surprise, had mafia ties. Altobelli bought the home from Terry Melcher who had lived there with his then wife, Candice Bergen.

Manson would tell anyone who would listen how the Beach Boys, Melcher and Altobelli ripped him off of his Beach Boy royalties – which it turns out was true. Even crazy people get hosed. (A running joke is that, even after the murders, Charlie Manson wasn't even close to the craziest a-hole in the music industry)

So, was the attack at Tate’s house a case of revenge-based mistaken identity? Nobody knows because Roman Polanksi and Sharon Tate and Jay Sebring and the LaBianca’s were all known regulars at these Manson-catered parties. (Sharon Tate was look-alike Julie Christie's Jackie Shawn character in "Shampoo.")

That is how deeply woven this seedy web was in West Los Angeles, that a possible case of mistaken identity mass murder could still have direct ties with this insanely wild scene.

Rock and rollers and celebrities penchant to use and spit out people who are trying to leech from them is legendary – chronicled as recently as Cameron Crowe’s “Almost Famous” - but in Charles Manson, they tried to chew up and spit out the wrong guy, and Manson was determined to make them pay. In blood.

After the gruesome Tate murders, all of Hollywood and the music business went into hiding to cover their long history with Chuck. (Don't forget, the Beatles admitted they wrote the 1968 “Sexy Sadie” after soon-to-be Manson Family killer Susan “Sadie” Atkins, though that was later denied and covered up after the murders. Volumes have been written about the Beatles influence on Manson, it seems Manson also influenced the Beatles)

Although I am admitting this is getting into nebulous territory, it has been strongly rumored the Beatles stopped touring at this exact same time for fear of Manson family retribution at a concert. It is true that, individually, all the Beatles jacked-up their private security and went into hiding at this time.

Manson was rumored to have an infamous celebrity hit list of those powerful people who took advantage of him and supposedly it included the Beach Boys and the Beatles, thus making Dennis Wilson’s drowning even more suspicious. Clapton went into heroin-induced hiding right then as well.

Coincidence? Maybe. Who knows? I sure don't.

Regardless, hard as it is to believe, at the heart of the hugest and most influential music scene in rock’s history was one Charles Milles Manson. Manson’s heavy-handed mad guru preaching of the creative power of drugs, orgies, motorcycles, occult and S&M were messy fingerprints left all over rock and roll at this time. Take those themes away and where does that leave everyone from the Doors, Led Zeppelin, Rolling Stones and on forward to the Red Hot Chili Peppers to Guns and Roses to the entire heavy metal movement?

Granted, some of these are chicken and egg arguments, drugs and sex and rock and roll have always been linked, but there is simply no denying Manson’s stranglehold on the 1968/1969 West Los Angeles' dark world. If you had sex with a crazy hippy girl and did drugs, as nearly everyone did then, you probably owed it to Charlie Manson.

August 9th, 1969 is when the hangover began, not just in the music business, but in our entire culture as well. Suddenly being a hippy and doing drugs and having an orgy were not seen as so chic and enlightened now they were preached and provided by an unspeakable mass murderer.

Of course, the appetite for drugs and orgies doesn’t go away over night, but from this moment on they went underground. (At the exact time when Manson and his cache of drugs and his minions of horny hippy girls vanished from the L.A. scene, the Las Vegas-based-mafia-run prostitute and drug rings in Hollywood scuttled to cover and openly had wars with the biker gang’s drug dealers and prostitutes. It seems Chuck left a big bloody mess in his wake. )

Around the mid-to-late Seventies people were starting to see, especially in the music industry, the toll exacted from, as Don Henley put it, having “everything all the time.”

However, as Don Henley so eloquently pines in “Hotel California” there was still longing for that weirdly magically drug and sex crazy time; “We haven’t had that spirit here since 1969.”

The press pushed hard to simplify Manson as a madman using the Beatles "Helter Skelter" as an excuse to commit heinous murders, but that turns out to be wrong; the connection between Charlie Manson and rock, from the Beatles to the Eagles, was far, far deeper than anyone wanted to believe.

Especially the rockers themselves, they clearly wanted to deny Manson's influence. Whether they admit it or not, Charles Manson was a, if not the, player, as we say now, in that incendiary and wildly influential era on rock around Los Angeles in 1969.

Nobody is saying Manson was not nuts, but let's not also forget this was a man with enough charisma to have a huge harem of pretty women who truly believed Manson was a savior. Not only that, they tried to prove their devotion to him by committing unspeakably grisly murders. Someone like that could easily hoodwink a bunch of insecure artists. You can't write all of that off to insanity and acid and cocaine.

No matter how crazy a rat Charlie Manson was, anyone with that much wild sex and drugs to offer can easily slither into the upper echelon of the Los Angeles entertainment industry, just ask Heidi Fleiss.

Whether or not Manson was just some drug-addled homicidal desert spook who happened to get in the heads of famous, but insecure musicians by plying them with drugs and sex, or Manson was the rock Svengali forever responsible for motorcycle-boot- stomping the spirit of rock and roll into a decadent sex and drug raged violent rebellion, Manson’s impact on rock music, no matter how horrible, was enormous and indelible.

So, rock and roll, welcome to the Hotel Charlie Manson, you can check out any time you want, you just can never leave.

Anyone surprised cocaine was a factor in pitchman, Billy Mays's, death? How else can a guy get so excited about cleaning up a mess?

Bill Clinton is on a roll. Last week, he successfully extracted two female US Journalists from North Korea. Last night he successfully extracted two waitresses from Hooters.

Paris Hilton has not tweeted on Twitter for over five minutes. Frankly, I am worried.

It was revealed cocaine played a part in pitch-man Billy Mays's death. No! Really? Next you'll try to tell me food has a factor in Artie Lang's huge ass.

Bill Clinton is on fire. This week he successfully negotiated the release of two hostage US Journalists from North Korea. Last night he successfully negotiated the release of a bra from an Intern.



Since you asked:

If I had to film a scene showing a stereotypical New York Mets/ New York Jets fan, I would cast Artie Lang. Enough said.

Nobody is a bigger John Hughes fan, his movies weren't just funny, they were sensitive and smart and a study in Midwestern and youth sociology. (Although I do feel Ferris Bueller was more of a theater nerd posing as a cool kid than an actual suburban Chicago cool kid. A more accurate real suburban Chicago cool kid was Vince Vaughn in real life) Not to mention the movies were all filmed in and around my beloved hometown of Winnetka, Illinois.

But scanning from past to present on his movie list, I couldn't help thinking it was a cautionary tale on burning out in Hollywood. Peaking in 1990 with "Home Alone" it was severe steps going down from there ending almost as tragically as Huges's death with "Drillbit Taylor."

Not to tell tales out of school, but maybe, like with Billy Mays, we should wait for the toxology report.

I'm just sayin' I'm just sayin' . . .

New York Giants sign Eli Manning to a $97 mil deal? Who knew there was so much cash in naming your kid after a corny 70's Three Dog Night song? From now on, my daughter, Ann Caroline, is called Shambala.

Get ready to open your pocket books, Professional Women's Soccer. I'm just sayin' I'm just sayin'.


Sonia Sotomayor was confirmed as a Supreme Court judge; I like Sonia Sotomayor, she looks like the elementary school vice president who is in charge of the bake sale at your kid's school.

In a lame attempt to mock the Cubs curse, the Florida Marlins paraded a billy goat in front of the Chicago dugout in between innings. The Cubs were not surprised, given the old age of the Marlin crowd, it is not unusual for an old goat to wander out on the field.

Sonia Sotomayor is the first Supreme Court judge to have English as a second language. George W. Bush was the first President.

Remember that awesome Jill and Kevin Wedding dance video that went viral? Rumor has it they are pregnant. Personally, I cannot wait for the dancing baby's entrance in the delivery room video.

Since you asked:

Granted, I am biased and have switched 180 degrees on Bill Clinton since voting for him, but I would have given anything, during the press conferences for the released journalists, to slap Clinton's big red, swollen self-satisfied face.

Remember, this Clinton is a tool who was so self-absorbed, he passed on pulling the trigger on blowing up Osama bin Laden three times, a move everyone knows would have have saved thousands of lives including those lost on September 11th, but Clinton didn't pull the trigger on Osama because Clinton was worried about the bad press he might get from the possible collateral civilian casualties.

The release of the US Journalists was a deal that was already done and whatever American politician was there would get the credit, Clinton just made sure he weaseled his way past Gore and Kerry to steal the credit.

At least it wasn't Jesse Jackson. Or, heaven forbid, Al Sharpton. As much as I can't stand Clinton, he is better than those two publicity whore shake-down artists.

What is the deal with all of these actresses with the kooked-up names? Chloe Sevigny? Eliza Dushku? Vera Farmiga? I put the blame on Sigourney Weaver and Daphne Zuniga. All the more reason for me to love Anna Faris and Heather Graham.

Bill Clinton did a great job freeing the captured US Journalists from North Korea. Now he can focus on releasing the three US hikers captured in Iraq. Or as Bill calls them: "That hot Sarah chick and them two other dudes."

Sonia Sotomayor has been confirmed as the first Latino Supreme Court Judge. To those detractors who said Sotomayor is biased towards Hispanics, it is not true. But our new national anthem is now officially "Guantanamera."

Bill Clinton did a great job freeing the captured two pretty US female Journalists from North Korea. There was one awkward moment when, afterwards, a State Department official had to tell Clinton: "You do realize you don't get to keep them, right?"

It is shark week on the Discovery Channel. Today is the scariest day, they cover great white sharks, tiger sharks, hammerhead sharks, entertainment attorneys, lawyers, politicians and lobbyists.

Ryan Seacrest is crushed about Paula Abdul not returning to "American Idol." She still has a silk black slip of his she hasn't returned.

San Diego Charger, Antonio Cromartie, was fined $2,500 for insulting the team's training camp food on "Twitter." His direct quote? "OMG. The BLT? WTF?"

Twitter got hacked and was down for several hours. Can you imagine, twenty years ago, if you told someone you were going to Twitter on your Palm Pilot? They'd tell you to stop that or you'll go blind.

Paula Abdul fired her old agent and her new agent turned down an offer of a 30% raise from "American Idol." "AI" then pulled the offer. If an agent's cut is normally 10%, isn't 10% of nothing still nothing?

Since you asked:

As much as it pains me to say it, when it comes to sports and steroids, we have passed through the looking glass to the other side. In track, football, baseball, in short order we have gone from shocked at the drug use to assuming they're cheating whether they test positive or not. And it is sad and it sucks.

For those who say, big deal, if everyone is using PEDs then the field is level, that is wrong. Forget the fact that, even if all are performing at a higher level, they are performing on a false level they could not obtain legally.

But it's not even. Some athletes benefit from performance enhancing drugs far more than others. A big strong guy is going to get a little bigger and stronger on steroids, but he isn't going to get anymore coordinated or skilled. Athletes only get so many gifts. But a talented and well-coordinated, but weak and skinny athlete, ala Bruce Jenner, is going to double and triple their production by gaining the strength that had alluded them via genetic predisposition.

Florence Griffith-Joyner and Ben Johnson went from in-the-pack 100 meter sprinters to dominating their races by ten yards in one year. Usain Bolt from Jamaica did the same thing. Nobody can tell me Usain Bolt* is clean. Everyone on his relay team got caught, but him. Why? Because they, the corrupt Jamaican officials, protected their gold medalist, that's why.

It's too bad because I can't enjoy an Albert Pujols home run without suspecting he is juiced. On my beloved Cubbies, Ryan "The Riot" Theriot has improved his power from zero home runs last year to 7, so now he falls under accusation and speculation.

But these athletes who are being so harshly and possibly unfairly judged now have nobody to blame but themselves. If they all insisted on their sport being 100% clean, they could have demanded it and made it happen. Cheating can't exist without non-cheaters turning a blind eye.

So now even the alleged non-cheaters are tarnished, that's how much cynicism exists in sports. In sports, cheating with drugs is now guilty until proven innocent.

*Why would anyone intentionally thrust both arms up in the air during the last ten meters of the Olympic 100 meters unless they were told not to risk added scrutiny by destroying the world record? I've run in way too many 100 meter races to know you don't ever intentionally slow yourself down. Ever. Bolt did not want to obliterate that record because he knew there would be serious consequences if he did.

Next month, a 95-year-old Crow Indian chief will receive the Presidential Medal of Freedom. And then, in keeping with tradition, the US government will decide they want the medal and then they will attack the old chief and take it back.

Scientists say taking Viagra may help travelers overcome jet lag...but it does make the closely crowded line to leave the plane much more awkward.

Paula Abdul announced on Twitter she will not be returning to "American Idol." It was an incredible technical achievement because, until Paula's announcement, it was not thought possible to be able to slur and mumble an announcement on Twitter.

It was a little awkward when it was announced Paula Abdul was on Twitter when she said she wouldn't be back to "American Idol" Amy Winehouse immediately called and asked her doctor to proscribe some Twitter for her.

Please do not tell me Paula Abdul is not going to be on "American Idol." Paula is the wild, drunk, high, horny, desperately-trying-to-stay-young, and yet rapidly-aging crazy cougar aunt that everybody should have in their family, but I, tragically, don't.

"Hey, look, Aunt Paula is smashed and flirting with the pool boy again. Ten bucks says she gets him to rub suntan oil on her."

Paris Hilton is taking scuba diving lessons. It's not been easy. The instructor has to constantly remind Paris, that, on the regulator, she can simply inhale, she keeps trying to suck on it.

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Since you asked:

All the gooey fuss over Bill Clinton's release of two US Journalists is a joke. Yes, it is good that the women were released instead of rotting in prison for ten years. But even an evil munchkin like Kim Jong Il would have sensed the good press that would come from releasing the women, the sooner the better.

And let's not forget, this situation almost became untenable thanks to somebody else named Clinton who got in a nasty name-calling fight with North Korea. You don't think saving face was part of the Clinton's motivation? By now we know the Clintons don't do anything unless there is something huge in it for them.

This is exactly what Jesse Jackson did when he released the US pilot captured by Syria in 1983. It is just a transparent attempt by a rapidly fading politician to bolster his potential political status with a cheesy public relations move.

Both Syria and North Korea were aware of their justifiably horrible image in the United States, all they needed was a greedy opportunist, like Clinton and Jackson, to suck up to them and point out the great photo opportunity that had fallen at their feet. Clinton and Jackson, although as immoral, grasping and slimy as a horny starving alligator in a sewer, are quick to spot a good opportunity for self-promotion when they see one.

Don't get me wrong, I don't think the Clinton's are evil and would never do anything that is good. Getting these hostages released is a great example of a Clinton doing good. The Clintons, like I said, won't do anything - good or bad - unless there is something big in it for them.

Bill Clinton, like Jesse Jackson, is still an a-hole massive tool. Jimmy Carter's hostage release? Now that is a different story. Nobody has a right to question Carter's moral compass nor his good intentions, especially Clinton and Jackson.

Now to change topics . . .

You know that feeling you got, on a gorgeous warm late summer early evening, when you had reduced your ice cream cone to a mini-ice cream cone? It was just the very last inch of the cone with a small gorgeous melting last glob of ice cream on top. After admiring it as long as you could, you popped that into your mouth. Remember that feeling? It was, all-at-once satisfying, happy, contended and, yet, just a little bit sad.

That is the way a good song/movie/book should make you feel when it is over.

Which begs the question: why would anyone pay money to sit through "Orphan"? Right off the bat it stars three of the preternaturally creepy humans on the planet, Peter Sarsgaard, Vera Farmiga and that creepy kid who was cast specifically because she is so creepy.

All it is missing is that other creepy guy. You know, that guy who was in that creepy movie with that other guy? That guy.

If we hadn't put a man on the moon, what would we be comparing our crappy stuff to?

President Barack Obama celebrated his 48th birthday by bowling a 144, a huge improvement over the 37 he bowled during the campaign. This kind of improvement in this short of time - at that advanced age- can only mean four words: the President is juiced.

Correction: the Japanese astronaut wearing the same underwear for a month in the ISS? His name is Noganna Nookieget.

Since you asked:

One of the constants in my life is that I've always hated being called Al. And feet, I hate feet, but I won't get into that now. Nothing wrong with the name, Al, I just don't like it for me. So, as a result, a real barometer to how I feel about people can be measured by when and if someone insist on calling me Al.

Not to put too fine a point on it, but how would you like it if you named your daughter Layla and somebody insisted on calling her Lay? That is sort of how I feel about Alex and Al.

An ex-friend of mine got remarried to a woman who thought rather highly of herself to say the least, maybe a lot more than she should have in my opinion. Well, my buddy must have undersold me to her as somewhat of a jamoke, because she clearly had the impression I was an idiot/knucklehead so she thought it was chummy, fitting and funny to call me Al.

Politely at first, but then with growing sincerity, I told her clearly I hated being called Al. She didn't care. She continued to call me Al.

We don't see them anymore. Hopefully never will.

Now, on the other hand, my really good friends know that I hate being called Al, so, when they want to give me a hard time, they call me Al. Especially when I do something stupid, which is, let's face it, a lot. They call me Al often in the voice of the beloved special ed kid we all knew, Eddie Walsh, which sounds exactly like the mentally challenged brother, Warren, in "Something About Mary."

"Good Alllllllllllllllll."

You have to be a really good friend to call me Al, break it out too early and it is a deal breaker.

Play me off, keyboard cat and Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers

A Japanese astronaut on the International Space Station is undergoing an experiment by wearing the same underwear for a month. I believe his name is Nowashie Tighteewhightee.

In addition he is also conducting an experiment to see if no female astronaut touches him for a month with a ten foot pole.

Larry King is on Twitter. So far his only Tweet messages have been; "Hey, are you in there? Who is in my phone? Get out of there."

You can now buy a Snuggie - the blanket with arms - for your dog. It's called; "Why the rest of the world hates us."

So what's it called? The Snoggie? The Pup Tent?

A new slang dictionary has included Obama for cool. And a feminine hygiene dispenser is called a Biden Bag.

Sarah Palin is denying she is getting divorced. Her husband, Todd, went on to add that, despite rumors to the contrary, he and Tina Fey are just friends.

In Wisconsin, three women who discovered the same man was cheating on them, tied him up and put Super Glue on his penis. On the bright side, the women have been contacted by the producers of "Two and Half Men" to sell their story.

We got an advanced screening of the new G.I. Joe movie. I've got to tell you, the full frontal nude scenes are very disappointing.

Happy 48th Birthday, President Barack Obama. Today they had a cake summit at the White House.

The man who wrote most of President George W. Bush's speeches, David Frum, announced he is writing his memoirs. Unfortunately, he spelled memoirs M-I-M-W-A-R-E-S.

MSNBC reports a neuroscientist claims yawning is a sign of sexual arousal. With the notable exception of listening to a Joe Biden speech.

Scientists claim Viagra can help cure jet lag. And it gives guys another place to hang their carry-on bag.

Bill Clinton was able to procure North Korean pardons for the two captured female US journalists; when asked if he would do likewise for the three captured hikers in Iraq, Clinton said; "I'll help get that Sarah chick, but those two dudes are screwed."

World's smallest group? Birthers with a life.

(Big ups assist by Janice Hough)