Conversation Hogs Really Stink

Boys and girls of the class, raise your hand if you find it not quite so funny when a friend, associate or even someone you couldn’t care any less about seems to work their personal problems into a conversation with you, in hopes that you’d ask them what’s wrong.  

This act is done by a lot of people and overlooked by many.  It goes unnoticed because it’s one of those things no one actually stops to pay attention to, needless to say except the person who keeps working their issues into the convo.  The subtle remarks are carefully inserted into related [and sometimes unrelated] subject matters and seemingly come out of nowhere, yet make the biggest silent impact on the person who’s forced to hear it and care even less than they did when the situation remained cohort.    

This may come as a shock to some, but the truth of the matter is more people than you’d think could give a sh*t about your problems because everyone on the planet has problems of their own, so if no one asks you what’s wrong after the fiftieth time you’ve griped about your uninteresting predicament, it’s pretty much common knowledge that no one really cares.  Stop imposing and stop whining.  Just stop because the person you’re buzzing up has long since stopped listening.  The only person who can get away with speaking without actually saying anything is the teacher on “Charlie Brown,” and after a while even a viewer changes the channel.  

If you want someone to know what the hell’s going on with you, tell them.  Don’t beat around the bush.  Don’t drop not-so-subtle hints.  Don’t be slick with it.  Most people aren’t going to jump into your business willingly and consciously because they don’t want to be blamed for any dumb decisions you make. Most people aren’t going to comment on your issues because you’ve probably spit out the answers to your own questions anyway.  Most people are probably going to look straight through you in an effort to see the nearest “Exit” sign hanging somewhere behind you.  However if you’re not careful, one day you’re going to come up against someone that isn’t like most people.  And that person will willingly listen to you gloat about the stupidity and/or humdrum that is your life and will turn around and do one or all of the following:  (1) Tell you the truth – something you probably don’t want to hear; (2) Tell you, “so what?” – something else that you probably don’t want to hear; or (3) Tell any and everyone all about your business – and in case you didn’t know, your dirt sounds way more interesting coming from someone who isn’t you. The problem is words get twisted when they are spoken from someone else’s lips.  But because you insist on monopolizing an unwarranted conversation with someone who blatantly doesn’t give a rat’s ass, that’s just the price you have to pay.  Whether you learn a lesson or not isn’t anyone else’s problem but your own.  On the other hand as we stay true to the subject of this post, that last statement goes in one ear and right out of the other.  

If I were to tell you that 90% of any effort is getting started, I’d most likely be referring to you learning when to shut up. 


Quote of the week:  “Some people talk a whole lot about nothing because it’s the only thing they know anything about.” 

Refresher Course: What Not To Do on a First Date

In this day and age, dating has become more difficult than ever, well with all the games that  people play and the stipulations for the potentialities of the dates themselves.  Some people are hopeful while others bear all on chance, luck and booze.  But if you ask me, no matter how dry your well is or how hot your crotch may be, there should still be some limitations on what should and shouldn’t be considered acceptable “dating” behavior, especially when referring to the dreaded first date. 

Today we are not going to focus on all the right things that should take place during a first date.  It’s too mushy and not as much as fun as pin-pointing all the wrong and bad sh!t that can and more often than not goes wrong.  We’ve discussed first date rules before, however during my course of eavesdropping on conversations at a few dine-in establishments over the last few weeks, I’ve concluded that a ball park figure of about five gazillion daters need to be reminded of what not to do on a first date.  I understand that there may be some that asks who am I say?  Quite frankly, responding in my best Rick James voice, “I’m Hottywood, bitch!” 

Rule #1: Don’t show up for a first date showing too much.  I’m not going to spend too much time focusing on this because I’m sure all you bright citizens (and illegal aliens – the rules of dating apply to all who ultimately wants to get laid one day or one way or another) know what the hell I mean. 

Ladies, don’t show too much cleavage (that includes back cleavage), legs (especially if your date is the size of Professor Clump, because he may mistake them for drum sticks and may possibly try to eat you using a pitch fork, a butter knife and the nearest bottle of hot sauce), forehead zits (for obvious reasons) or wear too much makeup (think Ronald McDonald or the creepy little puppet from all the Saw movies.  Your bad makeup job will be the first thing your date sees and the last thing they remember, causing you to be the punch line of all their jokes as they tell their friends what a disaster you were your date was).  Doing any of these things will change your date’s perspective of you, causing him/her to think you’re cheap, horny, greasy, a piece of meat or an extra in a rural area carnival side show.  Don’t get me wrong, ladies.  By all means, please tease!  You want to give your date something to look forward to.  Just be careful not to serve it all on a platter before time of the main course.  Everyone knows all things don’t taste as good as they smell.  

Fellas, don’t show too much chest hair (old school pimp status), man boobs (no chick wants a man who has to buy and wear more bras than she does), ding ding prints (proves that your pants are too tight and may result in your Johnson not working right and causes your manhood to stink like rotten ketchup), belly button rings, tongue piercings or toe rings (are all gay and looks stupid on a man and if you wear them you should have a drink thrown in your face and never be allowed to date again).  

Rule #2: Lose the cell phone for a while.  It’s not a good look to give the illusion that you are more important than you are, especially when the person you’re breaking bread with doesn’t know enough about you to care.  It makes you look like you’re eager to show that you have friends or overly proud that you just bought a new cell phone.  It’s also rude and indicates that the person you’re communicating with over the phone warrants your attention more than the person you’re communicating with over the table.  If that’s the case then you made the date with the wrong person and you need to take your ass back home and try again and hope like hell they don’t do the same thing to you. Also cell phone frequencies slowly causes cancer and makes your appetizer course taste funny. 

Rule #3: Tongue kissing on a first date is a no-no!  Let’s be honest, nobody knows where the hell your lips have been, much less your tongue.  Halitosis may be an issue.  Gum disease could be a problem.  You wouldn’t get punched in the teeth for forgetting your dentures, obviously but you could still get decked some place else unless you forget your false stomach or your silicone forehead.  Try a kiss on a cheek (the face, not the ass).  It’s safer.  You even want to be careful kissing someone on their hand because if no one ever told you, people do some strange things with their hands. 

Rule #4: Don’t reveal too much personal information.  Under any circumstances do you ever want to reveal too much about yourself too soon.  Very rarely do you get a second chance to make a first impression.  Do not bring up your money problems because they imply that you are either cheap, broke, a closeted bank robber or an excessive gambler.  Don’t talk about any past relationships because it will lead your date down a path of searching for reasons [through your words and actions during the remaining moments of your get-together] of why your ass is single now.  Don’t talk about your sex life.  That’s an instant buzz kill simply because there are so many red flags attached.  For example, when you talk about your past love life, you look horny, desperate, prostitutish, and often times not hot enough for anyone to believe that you’ve gotten the ass you’re boasting about.  If you must bore your potential companion with a serious case of TMI, make sure it isn’t until the liquor bottle is half empty, that way you can blame your diarrhea of the mouth on the booze and your date will more likely appreciate being drunk so they don’t have to comprehend what you’re actually saying.

Rule #5: Last but not least, don’t spend any time blatantly advertising how attractive you are.  Let your date do that, otherwise you might as well strap a full length body mirror to the vacant seat at your dinner table.  Truth be told, anyone who thinks that much of their self isn’t worth thinking much about. 


Quote of the week:  “People are like foreign foods.  Everything that smells good doesn’t taste good.”

The Self-Evaluation Quiz


It’s never easy to accept that you have flaws, despite the flaws anyone may point out.  Luckily for you Hottywood Helps!  This little quiz will help you to realize that your ass is not as perfect as you think.  Be warned that the truth hurts. But in the end, hurt never felt so good; although in this case it might.  

When do you feel your best? 

  1. When you find yourself hooked up to an IV full of coffee. 
  2. When you’re too drunk to know where the hell you are.
  3. When you’re nipples are hardest.
  4. When you’ve waken up in a strange bed after a drunken romp with a horny one-eyed stud muffin from a Kansas trailer park. 
  5. When someone boosts your ego.
  6. Never.  You’re the complete opposite of “life of the party.”  

When talking to people do you

  1. Spit?    
  2. Stare at boobs?
  3. Avoid eye contact?
  4. Blink excessively?
  5. Let your underarms do all the talking?
  6. None of the above. You never speak to anyone because people say you sound as if you have a moutful of caramel.    

When you go to a party or social gathering, do you 

  1. Sneak in the back door wearing criss-cross jeans and Shaq-brand tennis shoes from Payless or someplace even more cheap? 
  2. Make a loud and obnoxious entrance so everyone will have a legitimate reason to avoid you all night?  
  3. Announce the pee stain on your pants because you couldn’t find the bathroom.  
  4. French kiss all of the other guests after eating a bag of Funyons? 
  5. Fart out of the wrong end when you laugh uncontrollably?
  6. None of the above. You never get invited to parties.  

When you go out to eat in a public restaurant, do you   

  1. Chew with your mouth open because it’s more convenient to stuff more food down your throat while you’re still chewing what’s already in there?
  2. Belch without saying excuse me (…although there’s nothing wrong with that unless you’re a midget.  Then it’s just gross.)? 
  3. Order the most expensive meal on the menu knowing that you’re broke as shit?
  4. Accidentally forget to wear pants on purpose?
  5. Steal the utensils from the next table while the occupants are using them?
  6. None of the above. You’ve been banned from public eating establishments for reasons only known by you and God and your imaginary friends.  

When you are bored, do you  

  1. Make prank phone calls to old people and Chinese pet detectives?             
  2. Clean the lint out of your belly button?             
  3. Speak backwards while groping your private parts or the private parts of the person to whom you are speaking?
  4. Try to whistle at a frequency only dogs can hear (mother-in-laws and supervisors not included)?  
  5. Make plans with more than one person knowing damn well you don’t have enough gas in your car to make it pass the hooker on the corner at the top of the hill? 
  6. None of the above. With the all the voices in your head, you never get bored. 

40 Excuses To Get Out of Work

Everyone knows work is the playground for the game of life’s tricks. Written in just about every employee handbook across the nation is a clause that limits our toleration of deadlines, meeting changes and everyone’s last minute assignments but our own. Because of this taming of the shrew, we are paid not to get beside ourselves when burdens become too much to bear without the heavy use of profanity, a 2×4 plank and a shot of non-communion wine. No matter how large the paychecks or how great the incentives, it’s safe to say that there are some days where we just don’t feel like being bothered with the game, the playground or the players. So to beat game at its own game, you have got to be able to think quick on your feet and be a better bullshitter than it.  

The most common bullshit of them all is not minimizing your computer screen from the Solitaire game when your snoopy coworkers sneak into your cubicle. It is without question coming up with the best excuses to get out of work for the day.  

According to a popular employment recruiting site, about 41% of hiring managers are suspicious of their employee’s excuses for getting out of work. Outside of a little cold or minor car trouble, most excuses aren’t believable, they say. I say “horse pucky!” What do they know? If life throws its highest cards at you while you sit behind a desk working for a stiff in a name brand necktie, why the hell shouldn’t you get a little creative with your excuses not to deal? After all, it is a game and your boss and coworkers are all major players on the field. If you must play you might as well get a little gutter with it. They’re dicking you one way or another.  

Below are a few excuses that’ll help you cut your days at the office in half by 100%. Free free to use them at your leisure because although not being bothered is more than less than rare, having a good excuse not to fill a seat in the next departmental staff meeting trumps any card every time. Whether it’s believable or not is something the receiving ear has to take up with God.

 40 Excuses To Get Out of Work

  1. My bangs fell out and now I must to go buy some synthetic tresses or either a pack of extra thick eye brow hair to cover my big ass forehead.

  2. I’m renting a baby llama for my girlfriend’s niece’s best friend’s business partner’s cousin and I need to stay home to vacuum the poop from the front door foyer and tip the delivery man.

  3. I got my private parts stuck in the zipper of my pants and need immediate medical attention.

  4. At 3:00PM I’ve been scheduled to referee a pie fight between the Comcast and Verizon Fios cable men, since they both think their cable services are the best. The loser will come in next week to make up the hours that I’ve missed today.

  5. I ran over a squirrel while texting during an illegal street race with a blind man on a bike.

  6. The goldfish that I flushed this morning stopped up the toilet and now my cup runneth over.

  7. I have to go to the airport to pick up my French-Asian pen pal, Delicia Van Wu.

  8. My son beat up his teacher for taking his M&Ms during recess. The teacher threatened to have him expelled and now I have to go beat the teacher’s ass, myself.

  9. There is an embarrassingly foul odor coming from only one of my armpits and I am afraid to leave the house because the stench might kill the pigeons that built a nest over my garage door.

  10. I’m getting my butt hairs braided at the African hair gallery after lunch and will not be returning to the office. Ever.

  11. Today is the only day that I am available to read my daughter’s diary without her knowing.

  12. Today is National I Don’t Give a Fuck Day and I don’t give a fuck what you say, I will not be in the office at all.

  13. I have a mandatory meeting with all the voices in my head and two bill collectors.

  14. Someone told me that toenails can get long enough to scrape the ground. Now that my toenails have finally grown to an unbelievable length, I’d like to test the theory out for myself.

  15. My turrets syndrome of belching keeps flaring up.

  16. I’ve been meaning to return the library book that I borrowed back in the ninth grade. It’s slightly overdue by about eighteen years.

  17. I’m putting my great uncle in a rest home and I need to go visit his grave to see if he approves of the neighborhoods the homes are located in.

  18. My boyfriend just broke up with me and I have to go slash all the tires on his 10-speed bike. Training wheels included.

  19. My kotex string broke.

  20. I’m having man cramps.

  21. My neighbor’s daughter swallowed my cat’s hairball and now I must call a vet to get a referral to a doctor.

  22. I got laryngitis in my middle finger and will be unable to tell anyone to fuck off for three days.

  23. My car flipped over six times before hurling over the rail of the 5th Street Bridge. I’m calling from the bottom of the ocean. I probably won’t be in tomorrow either unless there is an express way from Heaven leading to the office.

  24. My grandmother ran out of glaucoma medicine and I have to stand on the corner and try to hustle a hustler into giving me a stash on credit. That could take all day.

  25. I have massive rug burns on my knees and am unable to walk. You’ll have to get your own damn cup of coffee today!

  26. I lost all my money playing bingo and now I don’t have any change to get on the bus.

  27. I’m stuck in the photo booth at Walmart.

  28. The dog ate my car keys. My wife at my car.

  29. A booty call stole my alarm clock while I was in the bathroom coming up with a good excuse not to come to work.

  30. I can’t find my shoes or my pet tarantula.

  31. There is a busload of Jehovah’s witnesses outside my door and I’m hiding under the couch until they go away. This may take a while.

  32. With all the boiled eggs I ate this morning I don’t want shit to hit the fan.

  33. My mother-in-law came to town for the weekend and got into a terrible accident. I have to take her to the hospital for emergency surgery to get the stick removed from her ass.

  34. My wife’s melons are sore from her recent breast implants and she needs me to stay home to massage them.

  35. I won’t be in the office today because I owe someone money and work is the first place they’ll look for me. Oops! You’re the one I owe money to.

  36. After reviewing my last paycheck, I suddenly became claustrophobic.

  37. Someone told me hard work doesn’t guarantee a successful win so I’m not going to waste my time today.

  38. I think my cocker-spaniel caught an STD from the neighborhood bitch and needs to be taken to the puppy clinic to get tested.

  39. I’m calling in blind cause I just don’t see it happening today.

  40. All my underwear have holes in them and I used the last bar of soap last night.


Quote of the week:  “Conway’s Law: In any organization there will always be one person who knows what is going on – This person must be fired.”

You Can’t Move Up if Your Pants are Falling Down

A life without secrets is boring.  Shocking, I know…but true nonetheless.  Secrets build character and adds to the intrigue of a person.  They have a way of making you wonder what someone has to hide, therefore making that someone interesting.  Secrets are good and everyone should have at least one.  In fact, the mystique of a secret often leads to great unknown possibilities. 

However such is not the case for my peeps who insist on showing their ass. 

This one goes out to all my fellas; for the love of all mankind, “Pull yo’ damn pants up!”  

Fellas, what kind of opportunities do you think will open up to you if the best selling point about yourself is the type of underwear you buy?  If there’s anything you need to share with all the rest of the world the least, it should be your damn drawers.  

Now I consider myself to be an “in” kind of guy but we’ve gone from one extreme to another.  First it was those wretched skinny jeans.  Or as I like to call them, “straight jackets for legs.”  I thought we’d never get over that phase.    And now this?!  Seriously, 85% of men wear the same underwear for at least three days, anyway, before switching to a new pair.  So what’s the point?  Why does anyone feel a need to publically showcase their dirty unmentionables?  And more importantly, what the hell is so stylish about this? 

Is it really necessary to show the entire world your Fruit of the Looms, tighty whities or skid marks?  I have but only one word to say in response to this intimate issue that translates into a big, fat T.M.I. (Too Much Information).  And I think it’s safe to speak for everyone when I say, “Ugh.”  

Real talk, ya’ll.  Stop. 

I challenge you to remember this one little thing even if you never remember anything else for the rest of your days: 

“Never trust anyone who shows their ass before they show they face.”  

This just in… “Belts are not the enemy.”  It’s time to step outside the box and give them a try. 


In modern times, men started wearing belts in the 1920s, as trouser waists fell to a lower line.  Before the 1920s, belts served mostly a decorative purpose, and were associated with the military.  Today it is common for men to wear a belt with their trousers.

Since the mid 1990s, the practice of sagging has been popular at times among young men and boys.  This fashion trend consists of wearing the trousers very low on the hips, often exposing the underwear and buttocks of the wearer.  This urban style, which has roots tracing to prison gangs and the prohibition of belts in prison (due to their use as weapons and devices for suicide) has remained popular into the 21st century, particularly among pubescent boys. 

So it kind of pisses me off to see old men walking around with their waist hems dropped to their knee caps, or young boys who may not grow up because they’re following the stupid fashion trend of letting their pants fall down.  

What is it about the concept of belts that is so difficult to grasp?  Belts represent power.  Think of a dad whooping some sense into his bad ass kid’s ass.  Not only does a belt represent power, it represents authority, control and style

Speaking of style, a belt is one of the first three things a person looks at in order to determine a man’s character, or to someone who’s completely shallow and materialistic, it determines a man’s physical attraction. 

After all, it is often said that the necktie, the belt and the shoes make all of the man. 

I don’t know where that saying came from.  Probably some chick.  But who cares?  Whatever keeps the underwear concealed works for me.  There are just some things one man doesn’t need to know about another, and one of those some things are his drawers.

A wise man once said, “If you reveal too much, you’re left with no secrets to keep.”

The bottom line, folks, is this:  As much as most people want to pretend it isn’t true, appearance is the first thing anyone sees when it comes to making a [premature] assessment about someone.  If the first thing seen is someone’s butt, then it’s easy to assume that either that person is an ass or their ass is the most interesting thing about them.  Some might beg to differ, but whoever does is probably just as much of an ass as the asshole that shows his ass before he shows his face.

The only opportunities that are going to open up for pants-saggers are chances to lay up with some jezebel who’s trying to find a baby daddy; get arrested by policemen who are patrolling to fill their arrest quotas for the week; and being approached by drug abusers who are looking for a new contact and quick fix.  And while we’re at it, let’s consider the image it sets for adolescents who mimic the stupidities of adults who should know how to set better examples for children, but don’t.     

Luck, life and anyone who isn’t getting royalty checks from the sales of rap records and sold out venues will tell you that you can’t move up in the world if your pants keep falling down.  That’s a sure way to get screwed in the end. 


Belts aren’t the only thing that keeps your pants from falling.  Scotch tape, masking tape, duct tape, and even shoe strings can serve the same purpose as belts.  Homeless men are very inventive when it comes to keeping their pants up.  Want to know why?  The answer is simple.  Because they know that 90% of any effort is getting started. 

So fellas, I implore you to keep your skid marks to yourself.  There’s too many sh*tty things going on in this world to be bombarded by the sh*t that’s happening in your pants. 

RELATED ARTICLES:  A Nation Must Rise and Ban Together: Death to Skinny Jeans!


Quote of the week:  “Never in the history of fashion has so little material been raised so high to reveal so much that needs to be covered so badly.”

Life Is Made of Choices: Remove Your Shoes or Scrub the Floor

In life we are introduced to new beginnings as we say goodbye to old endings.  Windows break with closing doors; backs heal from knives strategically placed by those you’d least suspect would kill your joy; friends come and go; hearts break and mend with time; and  lessons are learned with both careless and obvious mistakes.  It is the process and evolution of learning what you’re made of as well as identifying and not underestimating the bullsh*t of those who force you into a deep ditch of doo-doo.      

Life is all about choices…and there are plenty of them to make.  It’s not hard to make them when you know what your values are.  For it is in your moments of decision that your destiny is shaped.  

But whatever choices you are faced to make and for whatever reason, you have to be strong in yourself and firm in your own beliefs so that your heart will not be lead astray by someone else’s way of thinking.  

  • If you choose to wear Monday’s underwear on the Friday before you wash clothes, own up to being a stinky ass.  The choice is yours to make.  
  • If you choose to read books that have only pictures and no words, own up to being a dummy who appreciates the beauty in visual art.  The choice is yours to make.   
  • If you choose to serenade the deaf, own up to the possibility of not having enough talent to perform in front of those who may cover their ears with sticks of dynamite.  The choice is yours to make.   

The bottom line is if you don’t own up to the root of who you are or don’t design your own life plan, you’ll fall into someone else’s.  And guess what that someone else will have planned for you.  Often times, not much. 

Lucky for us all 90% of any effort is getting started.


Quote of the week:  “There are times when a battle decides everything; and there are times when the most insignificant thing decides the outcome of a battle.”    –Napoleon Bonaparte

Happy 200th Post, Hottywood!

Guys & Gals, do you know what day it is?  It’s the day of Hottywood’s 200th post! 

That’s right.  100 posts ago we celebrated the shiftiness of awry relationships, bad first dates, lame businesses and the people that run them, chicken wing thieves and the shenanigans of self-absorbed people.  And now, 100 posts later, we break out the fire extinguisher to douse the flames of hot ass liars, cheaters, promise-breakers, seasonal friendships, silent crushes and bad choices that church goers make.  

The last 200 posts in review haven’t been all bad.  In addition to the help we’ve all received from Hottywood’s HORRORscopes, we’ve stumbled upon a world of unconventional advice from “Ask Hottywood!”, celebrated youth and their writing talents with the Jr. Hottywood Writer of the Month Initiative, dug up dirt on groundbreaking news of the happenings in the Hills of Hottywood and met the cast of the scandalous forthcoming Hottywood Helps: The Web-Series!  

It is true that the past 200 posts have been filled with bumps in the road but thanks to those bumps we can appreciate smooth sailing after repairing our tires from life’s potholes.  I’d be lying if I said the road traveled was easy.  And though some days have been harder than others, those days were not without purpose.  

Today I do not simply celebrate 200 posts of poking fun at people who foam out the corners of their mouth, or walk with paper towels under their armpits to soak up the excessive amount of sweat moisture.  Today is not about the victory of winning battles over competitive coworkers, associates, or customers who demand “Grade A” customer service when their people skills suck ass.  It is not about honoring people who unconsciously spit on your food when they talk.  Today I celebrate YOUthe readers!  I celebrate your warped out senses of humor; your refreshing delusions; your unbelievable questions; your giggles; your support; and even your doubts and hate mail.  I celebrate those who actually take the time to read.  I celebrate all those who accept my challenge to think for themselves before seeking approval to do some of the dumb sh*t they do.  I celebrate YOU because you’ve made this long walk a fun journey for my aching feet.  

I thank you and I invite you to stick around for another 200 posts.  There are great things in store for Hottywood Helps and it wouldn’t be much fun if I didn’t have you to share in the joy.  Now let us all turn to our neighbors, grab them by the nipples and say the following words:  “Man who scratches ass should not bite fingernails.”   

Peace, love and chicken grease to all my favorite mofos and mofettes!  Always remember that “90% of any effort is getting started.”  Now let’s eat cake! 


Quote of the week:  “A wise man can see more from the bottom of a well than a fool can see from the top of a mountain.”

A Birthday Tribute to the Hills of Hottywood

Ladies and gentlemen!  Guys and gals!  Kats, kittens, dawgs, and bitches!  I greet you in the name of all things coated with vegetable oil and all-purpose flour!  Today we celebrate a very special day.  No, I’m not referring to the anniversary of the Alabama law that states it is illegal to sell peanuts in Lee County after sundown on Wednesdays; or the Oregon law that dictates canned corn is not to be used as bait for fishing.  Though, in my opinion, those days are worth celebrating.  Today we honor and celebrate the birth of Hottywood!  

Today, as I blow out a flattering number of trick candles, eat mounds of chocolate cake and pass gas profusely from all the lactose-induced vanilla bean ice cream I can eat, I invite you to unbuckle those horrible skinny jeans, kick off your white socks and sandals, and put your table manners to the side as we feast at a table of endless chicken wings and sesame seed buns! 

On this cold day of February, all should be reminded and some even encouraged that there are many things that we can all get away with in the name of Hottywood, simply because I said so.  And I don’t give a damn who doesn’t like it.  You don’t even have to thank me for this encouragement because some of you reserved tykes have probably been waiting for the right opportunities [anyway] to: 

  • Tell your neighbors to shove their loud stereo sets up their ass;
  • Suggest to your coworkers that they email themselves straight to hell;
  • Lead that one self-absorbed person to the middle of a bullfighting coliseum after coloring their body w/ permanent red magic marker;
  • Dip your enemy’s underwear in raw hamburger meat and unleash a pack of hungry dogs on them;
  • Turn off all the hot water in your apartment complex at the break of dawn so people’s annoying shower singing can actually be what it sounds like – screaming; or
  • Put baby snapping turtles inside your landlord’s mailbox. 

It’s probably not ethical for me to give you ideas on how to get back at all those folks who forgot your birthday, have done you wrong, or even the clods that you simply don’t like.  But as I’ve stated before, today is a very special day and the only rule that applies is that I make the rules.  So you can do whatever the hell you damn well please in the name of humor, emotionless love and my birthday!    

May the rest of your day be filled with chicken wings, stripper poles, and restraining orders.  Not necessarily in that order.  

…oh, and if you don’t think you have the balls to be bad, relish in the thought that 90% of any effort is getting started!  Follow my lead and you just might learn something.  Happy birthday to me from me!  

Luv ya, babies.


Quote of the week:  “Birthdays are nature’s way of telling us to eat more cake.”

A Momentary Rant of a Man Undone

Let’s be honest; even a man who always seems to have it all together cracks under pressure every now and then.  And as perfect as I am (at least as far as perfection goes in my own warped out mind), I am no exception to the rule.  

Having said that, I think I will take a short moment to ask one burning question that many people ask in their every day lives:  

 “What the #&$%@!?”  


  • “What the #&$%@!”  did I do to deserve getting hit in the forehead with one of Karma’s mini bowling balls? 
  • “What the #&$%@!”  happened to the Plan B that I usually keep in my back pocket? 
  • “What the #&$%@!”  am I going to do to get myself out of this deep a$$ pothole that I managed to fall into?   

Well, I asked the one burning question like I said.  I just happened to ask it in three different variations.  Why?  Because I can.  “What the #&$%@!” are you going to do about it?     

Listen, everyone is only human.  Well, maybe not the chick that lives on the corner of my street.  I don’t know what she is, but I know it’s not human.  Have you seen her???  Oh wait, that’s a story for another time.  

My point is no one is immune to the pitfalls of life.  In fact, if we didn’t have sh*t to deal with, how would we know what we could handle?  It’s like going out on a bad date.  In your heart you know the date is going to be a bust, but you still have to endure the bad company, bad conversation, bad food and bad hygiene in order to know what you don’t like and what you hope to expect out of the next date who is anyone but the person you lowered your standards for in the first damn place.  

Oh, but if only things were as simple as a bad date.  You can stand up a bad date.  You can walk out on a bad date.  You can even throw your drink in a bad date’s face.  But life, my friends, is something a little more funky than a simple bad date.  In fact, sometimes life can be a big pile of sh*t.  However as stinky as that sh*t may be, life is also a wheel.  What’s down today is up tomorrow.  The hard part is getting through the day.  Lucky for us all 90% of any effort is getting started. 


Quote of the week:   He that is afraid of bad luck will never know good.”

Hottywood’s 2011 New Year’s Resolutions

It’s been a minute since the last time we’ve chatted, but you should know that I wasn’t off hiding in a corner somewhere licking my finger tips after stuffing my face with a handful of barbeque potato chips.  Like each and every one of you, I was off pondering the possibilities of what the new year will bring. 

Keeping in touch with the American new year tradition, I jotted down a few [New Year’s] resolutions for myself.  You know, something to strive for and aspire to.   And seeing how Christmas is trying its best to jet ski right past us, what better time than now to share those resolutions with you?!

Kats, kittens, dolls, guys and gals, I now present to you Hottywood’s 2011 New Year’s Resolutions!   Hope you’re as ready for the new year as I am.


Start saying, “No.” 

I go out of my way to please people; never rejecting anyone’s requests or unreasonable favors and the only word I ever get in return is, “No.”  So let’s see how their asses feel when I return the rejected favor. 

In fact, let’s put a “Hell,” in front of that “No,” to make it more effective! 


Drink more; hangover less.

Let’s be honest, everyone wants to be the drunk guy that gets pointed at and maliciously talked about at all the parties.  Because everyone knows that he is having the BEST time!   And it probably wouldn’t be much of a party if he wasn’t there.  So either stop hating on the drunk guy or starting throwing better parties!


Incorporate diet fried chicken and french fries (w/ “I Believe It’s Not Salt”) into my daily diet. 

I know damn well that I’m not the only person in the world that’s in love with fried chicken.  Especially my mama’s fried chicken!  Can’t nobody fry up some wings like my mama.  Well…maybe Popeyes, ’cause they have all those eleven herbs and spices and stuff.  And possibly the Cornel, ’cause he’s not a cornel for nothing.  He’s an officer for chicken!  Oh, and then there’s Church’s Fried chicken.  You know that chicken must be touched by God.  I mean listen to the name of the product. 

Okay, okay.  I guess you see where I’m going with this.  I’m going to find a way to make greasy, home fried chicken a part of a regular healthy diet.  Or die trying! 


Burn any and every record that features the voice of Aaron Neville. 

Alright, I know I’m probably going to burn in hell for condemning the poor guy’s music to a biochemical lava pit.  But seriously, have you heard the guy sing?  He sounds like chipmunks on steroids.


Braid my armpit hair every 3rd Saturday of the month. 

‘Cause I like to keep people guessing!    C’mon, admit it; you know you’ve always wanted to take a peek under my arms.   That doesn’t make you weird.  It’s the other thing that makes you weird!   


Celebrate my birthday every time I go out to eat in a restaurant so I can get a free slice of cake while the wait staff embarrassingly sings the annoying birthday song to me while jealous consumers look on and inadvertently joins in, secretly wanting a bite of the cake that I’m not going to share. 


Belch without saying, “Excuse me.”  Oh wait; I already do that.   

Hey, don’t judge me. 



Cross out anyone’s name in my phone book whose armpits and butt cheeks smell relatively the same.  

And if you think it’s cool to hang around someone who smells like a Thursday morning trash pick up, then I’m scratching your name out of the book, too!

How you like them apples?!________________________________________________________ 

Convince a convent of nuns to watch “Revenge of the Nerds” and all of its sequels.  

I have to be honest and say that I would just love to sit there and watch the expression on a nun’s face as she looks at some of the sh*t that those nerds pull on that show. 

To be quite honest with you, I worked with a nun who I think could’ve used a little humor in her life.  She was about as nice as The Grim Reaper.  About the same age too, but that’s another story. 


Rally for world peace amongst the hamster community. 

Ah come on.  I’m not the only one who’s rallying for togetherness and furry respect amongst all rodents who runs non-stop inside a wheel.   I can understand their frustration.  They keep running and running but never get anywhere.  That would make me want to punch somebody, too. 

Dear Mr. Hamster,

Be glad you’re not a turkey.  They are born and raised to be eaten. 


So there you have it, folks.  I strongly believe that committing to these resolutions will change my life drastically!   The hard part is sticking to the commitment.  Thank goodness 90% of any effort is getting started



Quote of the week:    “It’s bad luck to spill a drink on New Year’s eve.”


Writing a New Chapter

For all of you who are looking forward to this week’s Hottywood’s HORRORscopes, sadly I must disappoint you with some bitter-sweet news. 

You know how business moguls get to vacation in St. Tropez and schzmuuuschz with other executives and high-banking celebrities?  Well that’s exactly what I’m doing — only different

While seeking a little much needed R&R is in order, I’m busy exploring new dreams; new visions; and dare I say, new catastrophies — to look deeper into destiny’s mossy swamps and rare flowers.   I’m delving into new adventures; new fates; and new creepy lessons to be learned. 

The mysteries of tomorrow is a blank page waiting to be seduced by a ball-point pen.  …and well, my scandal-seeking friends — we all know I aim to please! 

All for you and the sake of witty entertainment, I — with the help of some of my very talented Hottylicious friends — am busting chops to bring three little winches named Karma, Fate and Lady Luck, to a desk or laptop near you, by way of a ground-breaking series — Hottywood Helps: The Webisode! 


For the first time ever, you’ll not only get to read about the scandals that take place in the Hills of Hottywood, you’ll get to see it for yourself.


But don’t pack your bags just yet, kids.  We’re still getting the city ready for your grand tour.  Patience, young grasshoppers.  “Patience” is the name of this game.   



Alcohol: An American Contribution

Ladies and gentlemen, guys and gals, lushes, drunks and everyone called anything that means the same damn thing – HAPPY ALCOHOL APPRECIATION WEEK! 

How often do we get a chance to raise our glasses and drink without guilt or shame in honor of the booze that makes us feel the way we should feel sans alcohol?  Not often enough!  Well now is the time to gather our most tainted, disruptive, uncontrollable friends, who each have no self control or sense of moderation and pay tribute to the substance that lands most unexpected nerds, losers and zeroes in bed with those folks who are clearly out of their league. 

Dating back to the early 1400s, man has had an unorthodox appreciation for alcohol.  On his voyage to the New World in the 15th century, Christopher Columbus brought with him a bottle of Sherry.  After writing and signing the Declaration of Independence in 1776, the founding fathers toasted the signing of the document with Madeira wine.  

If we are able, and in most places around the country, required to celebrate our forefathers for their contributions to our American history, then so shall we celebrate their choice of recreation of downing the liberties that gives this great country its uninhibited spirit.

How can alcohol be all bad if it’s contributed so much to the celebration of the New World?  It’s even a part of our great educational system – history, recess and science.  Let’s kick some knowledge a bit on alcohol and learn before we are too wasted to remember.  In chemistry, an alcohol is any organic compound in which a hydroxyl functional group (-OH) is bound to a carbon atom, usually connected to other carbon or hydrogen atoms.  An important class are the simple acyclic alcohols, the general formula for which is CnH2n+1OH.  Of those, ethanol (C2H5OH) is the type of alcohol found in alcoholic beverages, and in common speech the word alcohol refers specifically to ethanol.  However, because most people are too f*cked up to remember the scientific formulas for the euphoric enhancing product or not bright enough to grasp the concept of what they’ve just read a few sentences ago…ALCOHOL IS GOOD BEFORE THINGS GO BAD.

Everyone does it.  Some religions drink it for their communions and remembrance of God.  Doctors drink it before a surgical procedure.  They figure if there’s a strong chance of getting sued for malpractice, why not go all out and get blasted before sticking any needles anywhere?  Dentists make you gurgle mouthwash, which is saturated with alcohol, before sticking a gigantic drill in your mouth to tackle bad breath and cavities.  In other words, they get you drunk so you can’t feel the pain or hear the screams of the other patients sitting in any chairs or rooms next to you.

People get wasted after work, before work and sometimes even during work – and no, I’m not referring to office parties.  More folks than a few have a couple of gin & tonics for their lunch.  Some feel it’s a guaranteed effort of getting through the day without beating the living day lights out of any fellow coworkers.  Some feel it will help them concentrate on not banging their heads against the wall during long and boring meetings.  Those folks however are considered alcoholics.  They have no self control and usually can not wait until they’ve gotten home, kicked off their shoes, fed the cat and thrown themselves across the couch to belligerently go into couch potato mode — you know, like normal people do.  Even after a hard day of fighting crime and using his ex-ray vision to peek beyond the fabrics of women’s Victoria’s Secrets, Superman comes home and unwinds to a bottle of 80 proof of something or other.  And seriously, there’s no greater American hero than Superman, unless Captain America comes to your mind, and even he probably hit the bottle a few times before or after facing any of those great world war battles.

In a recent study, more than 54% of the children surveyed had tried alcohol by the time they reached eighth grade, which goes to show you that booze is even growing in the adolescent community.  Sure, it may be bad now, but those young lushes in training will have something to look forward to once they’ve hit the irresponsible ages of 18 and 21, because really, who waits until they’re 21 to chug-a-lug?   Some parents even douse their fingertips in a glass of whiskey for their babies to lick on to settle them down from whining and crying.  It’s better than teaching them to smoke.  Smoking is bad for your lungs.  If your parents are your greatest influence(s), then you probably have them to thank for your dire need of alcoholic consumption, endless breathalyzer tests and countless DUI’s.  One thing’s for damn sure; if you have a police record for being under the influence, you are anything but boring and everyone will want you to be the life of their party.  Not to mention, every party needs a fall guy when the police comes knocking at the door!

Alcohol is and has been a great part of our universal culture.  It’s been used by people around the world – in the standard diet, for hygienic/medical reasons, for its relaxant and euphoric effects, for recreational purposes, for artistic inspiration, as aphrodisiacs, and for many other reasons. In a nut shell, it’s time to wobble our drunk asses over to the bar and order another round!  So what if vomiting is imminent?   That’s our body’s way of making room for more!  Nobody likes a quitter.  And all it takes is a little effort not to quit partying like a true rock star!  After all, 90% of any effort is getting started.


Quote of the week:    “Candy is dandy but liquor is quicker.” 

Hottywood’s HORRORscopes: Week of April 11-17, 2010

If looks could kill, you wouldn’t have anything to worry about.  However there are many other catastrophic things that could happen to you this week if you aren’t prepared with the wisdom of Hottywood Helps. 

Below are Hottywood’s cookie fortunes, as revealed by the moon and the sun, in addition to the itch on the bottom of his foot.   

Take heed.  Knowledge is power.



December 22 – January 19 

There’s only one thing that separates you from that jerk no one can stand – your name! 



January 20 – February 18

You can fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but when it comes to your breath, the only person you’re fooling is yourself.



February 19 – March 20   

The wind beneath your wings is nothing but gas. 



March 21 – April 19 

You don’t have to wonder if everyone is talking about you behind your back.  They are. 



April 20 – May 20 

It’s time for you to see yourself as the asshole everyone else sees you as. 



May 21 – June 20 

No one can stomach the lies you’re pulling out of your ass. 



June 21 – July 22 

This week, people will wonder how is it that you have such a big head and nothing ever on your mind. 



July 23 – August 22 

There are many reasons to tie someone’s shoe strings together before throwing them into traffic. 



August 23 – September 22 

You’ve tried patience.  You’ve tried understanding.   You’ve even tried silence.  Now it’s time to try threats and bribery. 



September 23 – October 22 

If someone tells you they need space, take it as a compliment.  You aren’t that fun to be around. 



October 23 – November 21 

To some, you are playful, cute and cuddly – just like a chiwahwah.  Luckily you have a face to match.    



November 22 – December 21   

Stepping out of the norm will cause people to applaud your decision to bathe.


Quote of the Week:     “Pushing someone down a flight of stairs can be considered exercise for both parties.” 

Hottywood’s HORRORscopes: Week of March 21-27, 2010

So what you got dumped for someone younger, smarter and way hotter?  If you’dve only come to Hottywood first, I could’ve taught you how to pretend to be better than you are and warned you to stay away from that last chocolate chip cookie.  Never fear, there’s always something better than what you thought was the best! 

Below are Hottywood’s cookie fortunes, as revealed by the moon and the sun, in addition to the itch on the bottom of his foot.   

Take heed.  Knowledge is power.



December 22 – January 19 

The only worst thing that could happen to you is if you’re sold on the black market and fondled by filth.  It’s going to be a rough week. 



January 20 – February 18

Lying about your age will only work if you have four legs and tail…or if you look like you should have four legs and a tail. 



February 19 – March 20   

That scratching you keep hearing at the door is only your skeletons falling out of the closet. 



March 21 – April 19 

It’s not okay to have to wear a bra for the humps on your back. 



April 20 – May 20 

Indulge your inner weirdo this week, no matter who is watching.  In other words — just be yourself! 



May 21 – June 20 

Pushing your stomach in a wheel barrel is not considered exercise, you fat ass.



June 21 – July 22 

There is no fear in love.  The fear comes when your ass is about to get dumped. 



July 23 – August 22 

The one thing you’ll be recognized for the most at work will be not showing up at all.   



August 23 – September 22 

The echo you keep hearing in your head is just proof that not all elevators go to the top floor.  ___________________________________________________________


September 23 – October 22 

There’s one thing you have in common with a public service station restroom — the smell



October 23 – November 21 

Let people not like you for who you are instead of who you pretend to be. 



November 22 – December 21   

You won’t host any pity parties this week, but you may be the guest of honor at a few of them.  Don’t worry.  Being lonely is the new “bunned up.” 


Quote of the Week:    “Not all kool-aid stains are washed in the same detergent.”