Oh, I'm sure his buddies didn't tease him about this at all

Let me light your candle ‘cause, mama, I’m sure hot to handle now, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers


Happy Cinco De Mayo, which, for illegal Mexicans in Arizona, Cinco De Mayo means: This May We’re Sunk.

A coroner’s report claims 38-year-old actor, Corey Haims, died of natural causes despite eight different drugs found in his system. That’s like saying Abraham Lincoln died from bad acting.

The fallout from the strict Arizona immigration law continues. Today Tio Leo’s changed its name
To Uncle Lou’s.

After the “National Enquirer” claims Tiger Woods had 121 affairs, Tiger will play in the TPC this week. TPC stands for The Players Championship, TPC does not, repeat, does not, and never will stand for Tiger’s Penis is Chaffed.


At a Philadelphia Phillies game, a fan ran on the field and they tasered him. They are going to taser anyone on the field who isn’t a baseball player. More bad news for the Washington Nationals.


In honor of catching the Times Square bomber, the hookers in Times Square are offering a Times Square Bomber special. For $50 they’ll try to get you to go off in your car.


In honor of catching the Times Square bomber, the hookers in Times Square are offering a Times Square Bomber special. For $50 they’ll smoke you in your car.


More information coming out on the Times Square bomber, Faisal Shahzad. He was a not-very-bright, unfriendly loner who surfed internet porn. How the Securities Exchange Commission missed hiring this guy, we’ll never know.


Since you asked:
You know what movie I used to like, but does not hold up well? “Broadcast News.” When did Holly Hunter’s voice become so annoying? I can take an S-talker or a hick accent, but not both.

And the workplace romance in the film used to remind me of the drama and flirtations of the suburban Chicago divas, debutantes, cheerleaders and princesses I used to find so alluring when I tried to date them in high school. (Think Molly Ringwald’s character, Claire Standish, in “Breakfast Club”) Now, thanks to maturity and experience and California, I find both the drama and those gossipy, spoiled divas of my memory a little annoying, even, in one or two cases, embarrassing.

The term coquette is cute when you’re 17. By 22 and counting it is intolerably self-indulgent and narcissistic. By age 30 a coquette is a sad joke. Somehow in the intervening years of our lives, a lot of those girls went from Molly Ringwald’s character, Claire Standish, in “Breakfast Club” to various versions of Martha Stewart. Now how scary is that?

That is not to say all suburban Chicago women are like that. Just the ones I was attracted to at the time. For some reason, until I got to Santa Barbara, I had a genuine stubborn masochistic tendency in the women I found alluring. Only the women who either did not like me or truly enjoyed torturing guys like me held any interest. It’s tough to have a good relationship when the biggest thing you have in common was a mutual doubt about me. I was insecure and they agreed I should be.

But not Betsy Fox, she was great. We were so young and innocent I am not sure it really counted, but, man, do I love it that I dated a great gal named Betsy Fox my sophomore year.

Truth be told, several of the women I talked to at my 10 and 20 year high school reunions were wonderful. Another Betsy, Ann and Marion specifically. (One of the prettiest and nicest ones, Katie, sadly, passed soon after the 20th)

But for the most part, I have no genuine sentiment for the women I “dated” in my callow youth. No hard feelings either, but no heart-warming sentiment nor wistful lingering fondness that a lot of people claim to have for their high school sweetheart.

That’s both sad and good, I guess. It would be more romantic to have a cherished high school crush to pine for in my mind, to sigh, smile and sweetly reminisce when I hear songs from the time like “Born To Run” “Layla” “Hotel California” “Stairway to Heaven” “Helplessly Hoping” and “Wild Horses.”

But I also think it is far better, and healthier, not to have a single solitary regret.

Of course, it helps greatly to have a wonderful and beautiful California wife, who grew up in Colorado.

With possibly one exception, all of my old and new friends would drop to their knees and thank heaven they married the woman they started dating in college or after and not any of the girls they dated in high school. Maybe it’s simply a maturity and or timing issue.

Happy early Mother’s Day, Virg. Without any question you and Ann Caroline are the best things ever to happen to me.