Busted-ass Selfies is my new retro-rock band, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers

Credit Suisse has been found guilty of helping Americans avoid taxes and has been fined two and a half billion dollars. Or as Credit Suisse calls two and a half billion dollars, twenty minutes.

The WNBA rankings are out and the Phoenix Mercury are listed #1. That is amazing. The WNBA still exists?

Kanye West and Kim Kardashian’s wedding is this weekend in Florence, I am beginning to think they may have sent my invitation to the wrong address.

Kanye West and Kim Kardashian’s wedding is this weekend in Florence. It was a little awkward when Kim was first told they would be married in Florence, she said; “OK, but I always dreamed of getting married in Italy.”

New York racing officials have agreed to let Triple Crown contender, California Chrome, use his nasal strip. But California Chrome still has to sit at the lunch table with all the kids with food allergies.

At the Billboard Music Awards there was a hologram of Michael Jackson performing; many people felt the hologram was phony-looking, creepy, weird and not life-like. In other words, just like the real Michael Jackson.

A Tennessee man was arrested for trying to have sex with an ATM. In addition, he was charged by the bank for making an insufficient deposit.

Las Vegas is placing odds on if this guy is from Florida.

After 500 years, they have found the remains of Christopher Columbus’s flag ship, the Santa Maria. This for those who gave up hope finding the lost Malaysian flight #370.

 Since you asked:

This is how freaked out and deep-rooted the fears following a fire storm are: This morning I woke up and freaked out when I saw the white and dark smoke in the sky. Turns out they were clouds. We have not had clouds for the entire month of May.

My top fashion/style faux pas:

My Blues Traveler John Popper hat.

1975 Hip hugger, elephant bell-bottoms with multiple sewn-in seams.

Crocs. Wore them for about a month.

Infinite polyester hippy shirts in the mid-seventies.

Powder blue tuxedo, rented and wore this abomination twice in high school and once in college. And the black plastic shoes that go with it.

Combed in the middle mullet.

My Italia Adidas that I wore during the summer of 1969 without socks until they stunk so much, my mother would not allow them in the house. When I picked them up off the lawn to put them on I noticed they were covered in flies. A giant mound of our dog, Charlie’s poop, was two feet away sans one fly.

Around age 7, I wanted the plain tan buckskin/light brown fringe Daniel Boone jacket. Got instead a shiny brown and cream two tone-number Ricky Ricardo would have loved, with fringe on the sleeves. When worn with my raccoon-skin hat with tail, I looked like a Village Person from West Virginia.

When I moved to New York, my khaki trench coat and my tweed sports jacket were both about two sizes too small.

My polyester light blue – same Robin’s egg color as the Tux – sweat suit when I got to Santa Barbara.

At the time I was the height of cool, but in 1984, when I moved back to San Diego, my cotton short-sleeved purple-striped Ralph Lauren button-down collar shirt and pleated white shorts and tan Top Siders and moussed hair made me look like Tiffany’s lesbian cousin.

Fluorescent lime green super, super short running shorts in the 80’s.

One Halloween, when Ann Caroline was 5, she was the Little Mermaid and wanted me to be King Triton at a friend’s Halloween party. So I got a devil’s pitch fork and painted it gold, got a really good Santa Claus wig and beard, put on a green turtle neck and spray-painted a tight, tight pair of grey sweat pants green. The pants were way, way too tight and the talk of the Halloween party was the King’s wad. Not to brag, but in one of the pictures, it looks like I am smuggling in a Labrador Puppy.

One of my friend’s neighbors was Spanish and, in an aside to him, he said;

“Your friend has quite zee package.”