That our time here in summer was well-sexed, we’ll be just as awes. as ever when we roll out of bed, and there’s a whole shit ton of quality shows that you can stumble towards fall to. A grapevine can also refer to a grappling hold or a dance move, so you can say I [...]

I have a stutter. In 1992, I decided to become a writer. That means at age 7, I was already storing adjectives in my pockets for later use. Now that I talkalot, my tongue trips me up less. I can tell you’re lying, cause when you’re replying, you stutter, stutter, stu-stutter, stutter…

What’s worse than Hilary Duff’s motion-activated musical fragrance display at Rite-Aid? My bingo awakening. Seems I went 12 years without playing and it was 11.98 years too long. This chapter is all about bingo, karaoke, quizzo, spelling bees, and having something to drink to when it’s too hot to dance…

Hello there, friends, it’s that time again. Excuse me while I remove my sunglasses with purposeful movements and debonair grace. Just another moment while I slip on my spectacles, and leave them to rest wisely on the tip of my nose. I’ll put on my house cut-offs and heels, and then we’ll do a coke [...]

Talkin’ is as talkin’ does, after the jump.

You back from vacation yet? Had your Hall & Oates open heart surgery? I’m up to my bionic ears in neon glitter macaroni art if anyone wants to start an art compound sometime soon. Uniform is paint-stained A. Winehouse short shorts with belt looped to the side and cheap moccasins. DNW? Fine, I still grill [...]

It sure feels like summer camp up in this joint. Your illustrious white trash gossip hounds hit the road with their salty brand of trailer mix-SPF 5 million, coffee beans, and soy nuts. Dear Conrad went on a hike of his own in search of fame and employment, but promised to send Kels a postcard. [...]

The Tales of Colt 45 comic book really exists, and whenever we hear the words “Let me buy u a drank”, the lesson sinks in. Making Time kills babies, but every once in a while it births the ultimate weekend warrior. There isn’t a simpler way to kick it than that. So let’s raise a [...]

Just remember that on Fridays, we wear purple. And be packin’ some whiskey in that thermos. With Kelly off in Montreal tracking the Arcade Fire, bastardizing the French language, and touring the seven Am-Apparels of the sexed up city, Conrad was like “let’s drop that cheeky bitch” and took his rightful spot at the head [...]

Searching for that lost shaker of shit? Every time we think we’re gonna have a quiet weekend with some Pinot and sorbet and examine our toenails with Mozart trickling in the background, our five pound cell phone explodes, we run to the bathroom and check out the dew content of our complexions, and hit the [...]

We‘ve been busy over here reenacting Fiona Apple’s “Criminal” video. The stripping part was easy, but get real with us, coke monsters: There isn’t enough eyeliner in the world. So what if our weekend isn’t gonna beat Fire Crotch Lohan’s, we certainly gave it our best tequila shots. Fire away.

This used to be a pitcher of margaritas. Now it’s just a pitcher. You’re five glowstix away from the limit. Are you gonna go our way?