So sometimes I feel left out because I don't really have any drug stories. I mean, I've done some pot, and I giggled a bit, but that's pretty much as far as it goes. As of press time my best drug story is the time I got drunk on Jaeger and spent two hours laughing at Buster's fake fireplace. That's what happens to me when I'm drunk, I think everything's an absolute hoot. In the annals of drug stories, though, it's pretty thoroughly lame.

When other folks started getting seriously about their drug habits I just started wolfing down cupcakes and now I'm a fat lame bastard who doesn't have any good stories to tell.

But yanno, no regrets. Cupcakes are grand. But I'd kind of like a story about how I blacked out one night and woke up next to a seven-foot-tall Samoan drag queen with duct tape over my nipples and a midget in a hard hat passed out in my bathroom. Or at least an excuse for why that happened. Nowadays I just have to shrug my shoulders and say "Yanno, what are you gonna do?"

Okay, so that's mostly a lie. The midget wasn't wearing a hard hat as far as I remember.