The Jigtastic Journal of J. Na Na

The other night, coming home from Safeway, I could’ve sworn I saw former San Francisco mayor and African-American mouse Willie Brown driving a cab.

Canadian boys are hot.  With the pointed exception of Tom Green.

I saw “Igby Goes Down” Saturday night, and there was a scene where Kieran Culkin opens the doors in just his boxer briefs.  I so wanted a piece.

Who the fuck is Ryan fuckin’ Seacrest?  Why the fuck is E! promoting the little fucker like he’s the King of Fuck when in reality he’s just a Dick Clark-cock sucking no-talent cumrag?  Hm?

And finally in conclusion, an open letter to Nicole Ritchie:

Dear Nicky:

Let’s face it—you were the real star of “The Simple Life”.  Paris can trademark her monosyllabic bleat “That’s hot” all she pleases; you had the real one-line zingers in that series.  I’m glad to see you’re back in the game, but please, sweets, let’s keep your figure somewhere between Big Mac queen and starved tsunami victim.  Ride the middle line, and shine, baby, shine.

My next door neighbor is the really hot Asian guy who’s married to this dumpy white chick.  How their union came to be remains a mystery to me.  They also have this absolutely adorable little boy who looks like a doll.  It’s not fair.

The other day, this forty-something year old guy came in to work with his twenty-something year old lover.  Well, twenty to be exact.   Quite cute.  Pero como?  It’s not fair.

I’m broke as a joke, so I got no dough to go clubbing this weekend.  I guess it’s my own fault for not budgeting properly.  Still, it’s not fair.

I’ve touched on it before, but it bears repeating: Please, please dress your age.  If not for your own sake, then for mine, lest I laugh at your ass long and hard sans fear of reproach.  Oh yes, Martha…