I came out from San Francisco to my parents' house to watch their dog and mourn with the neighbors when they get back from a funeral/lunch/reception/dinner/orgy. (I was kidding about the last one: they have that first.) I put the TV on XM Hit List and I've never been more disgusted that these songs are hits. Then I actually put in a Mariah Carey CD (the only name I recognized in my mom's collection) and found myself dancing outloud, all by lonesome, to Dream Lover. If the people that thought I was cool in high school could see me now. So now, after a small sip of every alcohol here, I am the epitome of boredom; I represent it for ALL.

I am Golden Drunken God.

What are you wearing? (not you; her!)