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.”

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.”


Mixed Messages of Animated Debauchery

We are about to explore some uncovered territory in the form of animated debauchery.  Let the truth be told, I really don’t know who has it worse – kids of yesteryear or the children of today. 

There are so many limitations on what the average drunken, horny or outright imbecilic person can watch on television that the FCC hasn’t bothered to take a look at what’s been viewed on the Cartoon Network or the Boomerang channel for the last umpteen years.  Let’s begin with a blast from the past, shall we? 



Smurfette – Everybody loves those blue little rodents that are no bigger than a fungus plant.  But has anyone ever bothered to wonder what the smurfs do for fun?  I’ll tell you what they do for fun.  They do Smurfette!   C’mon.  Think about it.  A hot, feisty, blond-haired blue-bodied female smurf in a village full of men and she has NO competition? 

Why do you think the smurfs sing that La-La-La song all the damn time?  Don’t you feel like singing the morning after you’ve gotten laid?  And where did the baby smurfs come from?  Let’s face it.  Smurfette is Papa Smurf’s #1 bitch and he’s making a killing off of pimping her out to all the other little blue dudes.  And Gargamel keeps attacking them because he can’t get any.  Either that or he’s just trying to shut them up from all that moaning and groaning they have going on in the mushroom village.  And speaking of mushrooms, isn’t that a form of a euphoric drug – kinda like E-pills?  Hmmmmm…  Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?  Talk about a natural high.  Geez. 



Scooby Doo & Shaggy – First and foremost there’s nothing worse than a scaredy-cat dog.  Not only was the Scooby gang too stupid to make a profit off of solving ridiculous crimes, they weren’t bright enough to put Scooby’s ass to work.  I mean seriously, how many talking mutts do you know?  Scooby was an ol’ punk and freakishly close to Shaggy.  They cuddled.  They hugged.  They even drank from the same cup.  Scooby Doo and Shaggy introduced young, impressionable minds to the world of bestiality.  They probably confused more poor kids than they did entertain.  And to be honest with you, there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for a Scooby Snack.  And Shaggy was the first person to start that Scooby snack craze; something similar to tainted brownies. 



Big Bird – Big Bird had to be the gayest flamer on Sesame Street.  He was just one big old queen.  His voice was higher than a dog whistle and his body was covered in an oversized yellow boa.  He’d have probably worn high heels if he wasn’t so frikkin’ tall, but hey, that never stopped Dennis Rodman.  Gay or not, he somehow managed to keep his big ass on the red carpet.  Go figure! 

Well Big Bird, the only advice I can offer you is to watch out for greedy chicken lovers.  Cause your sexuality will have no baring on a mofo’s plate if you apply the right amount of flour, grease, salt and pepper.   



Daffy Duck/Bugs Bunny — Daffy and Bugs are two of televisions most favorite cartoons.  They’re both extremely witty and probably two of the coolest talking animals you’d ever want to be scared to hang out with.  But despite their hilarious practical jokes, crunchy carrots and spit induced clever comments; this competing rabbit and duck act are some very butch cross-dressers.  They’re not gay…well, when they’re not kissing the non-talking – Elmer Fudd – on the lips before running for their lives… 

And I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with being gay.  You are who you are, whether you’re a man, woman, duck or bunny rabbit; but I’m not convinced on the cross-dressing thing.  That’s just down right confusing.  And somehow getting a duck or a rabbit to wear 4” heels isn’t helping to make the ‘drag thing’ a catchy phenomenon in the hetero arena, especially when your viewing audience is a bunch of impressionable school-aged kids.  That’s all folks. 



Stewie Griffin — What can we not say about little Stewie Griffin from Family Guy?  He’s a genius, slightly narcissistic toddler with a deep rooted hatred for his mom and sister; has a bit of a retro racist flare and an adolescent sexual confusion for both genders.  Can you get any more classic than that?  

But despite his hang-ups, one thing you must say about the little bugger is that he always speaks his mind and keeps it real…whether he’s right or politically incorrect.  And let’s not omit the fact that he has got to be the most humorous little thing on TV.  

Now on the flip side, Stewie sends out a message to toddlers who happen to be well-spoken geniuses that it’s okay to be narcissistic and hate everything and everyone that isn’t like-minded.  He also carries all the characteristics of a potential serial killer.  But then again, I guess you don’t have to be a Stewie Griffin for that.  Off the top of my head, I can name about 10 mofos just like that, minus a talking canine companion and a baby stroller.  I guess it’s just funnier in crayon.


We could probably go on and on with a list of questionable cartoons that we allow our kids to watch that are really no different from 2004’s Janet Jackson/Justin Timberlake Superbowl XXXVIII fiasco.  

But I guess as long as kids are quiet and out of a guardian’s hair long enough to talk on the phone, skim through pages of a dirty magazine or sneak a few extra cheese curls down their throats, there’s no real cause for concern.  I mean there are only a few kabillion children in the world…a great deal of them with access to television.  Nothing to raise an eyebrow over.   o_O

It doesn’t take 90% of any effort to get started to realize that something’s not right here. 


Quote of the Day:    “The easiest way to teach children the value of money is to borrow some from them.”

What You Think Says A Lot More Than What You Say

During our transition from adolescence to adulthood, there are many key phrases that we may hear from our friends, associates, frenemies and/or enemies.  Some of those phrases can be labeled as good if we are stupid enough not to look deeper into the true meaning of its intent. 

Nevertheless, whether you have the word “Idiot” stamped on your forehead or not, Hottywood is always somewhere lurking around to make sure you’re not caught off guard the next time someone tries to pull the wool over your eyes.  

Buckle up, babies because I’m about to take you for a ride. 


If your friends generally call you but never have anything to talk about, chances are you need to hide your cheese, ’cause I smell a rat!   What they’re really saying by not saying anything at all is:

“Just because I call to check on you doesn’t mean I care, because I don’t.”

Whether you know it or not, just because someone is calling you doesn’t mean they have any interest in talking to you.  It’s just some people’s way of keeping you close by and on hand just in case they need you for something.  You should always keep an emergency excuse on reserve for those just-in-case moments. 


It pays to be polite to people because you never know when you’re going to need them.  But being polite to someone doesn’t necessarily mean you have to become their new BFF.  Now, let’s be real — when you ask someone how they’re doing, what are you really thinking?  I’ll tell you what you’re thinking:

“Just because I ask how your day is going doesn’t mean I care, because I don’t.”

What idiot on the planet doesn’t know that the every day question, “Hey, how are you doing?” is a matter of robotic routine for anyone who doesn’t have the balls not to care to your face? 


We all have friends who boast about their sex lives.  Honestly, meaningless, pointless sex with random strangers and partners in the double digits is just some people’s way of feeling needed and wanted.  To the rest of us who actually respect ourselves and our bodies as temples, those people are only good enough to keep around for a laugh as well as reminders of what not to do after one too many shots of tequila.   So why don’t you share with the class what crosses your mind when your slutty friend outlines all the details of their latest one-night stand.  I bet it goes a little something like this:  

“Just because I haven’t called you a skank outloud doesn’t mean I think you’re innocent, because I don’t.”

Sometimes you just have to keep your mouth shut and your eyes open.  That way, in the end, blackmail will totally work in your favor.    

The better the listener, the better the blackmail. 


Hey, money doesn’t grow on trees.  Having said that, not too many people are stupid enough to turn down a free meal.  That is until they’ve run across that one person whose cooking tastes like old hot dog water.  Just to be nice, we try to keep our thoughts [and our vomit] to ourselves.  But burning deep within our souls is the mere thought:

“Just because I haven’t thrown up off of your food doesn’t mean I like your cooking, because I don’t.”

A lot of people believe they can do what the universe say they can’t.  Things like: cook; sing; rap; work as cashiers; and serve us food at drive thru restaurants.  No matter what the trade, a chef holding a knife has more power than a critic holding a barf bag.


Bad jokes are just as common as a bad cold.  And also just as annoying.  Unfortunately for us, many people will take a stab in the dark at trying to put a smile on our faces.  Too bad for them that they’ve succeeded in getting us to laugh, but we’re laughing AT them, not WITH them.  So the next time someone sets you up for a “knock-knock” joke, think before you speak.   

“Just because I faked a laugh at your corny ass joke doesn’t mean I think you’re funny, because I don’t.”

Usually, this act debuts on stages all over bad dates and any office where an employee awaits his/her manager to sign their paycheck.   


It’s true;  a lot of people speak merely because they love the sound of their own voice.  On the other hand, we love to hear them speak because it reminds us that we’re not the most stupid person in the room, especially when it comes to matters of the heart.  In contrast, there are some who offer their opinion even when we haven’t asked for it, and those people are usually single.  What’s the first thing a person thinks about when someone tries to shed some light on a situation that has nothing to do with them?   Here’s what I think:

“Just because I pretended your advice solved my problem doesn’t mean I think you know what you’re talking about, because I don’t.”

Chances are you talked so much until you confused yourself into accidentally making sense.  The good news is most people will take what they can get if it means shutting you up.   

You win some; you lose some.


Acquaintances.  Everyone has one.  But it’s the acquaintances we know the least that we want to learn more about.  Why?  Because they are the folks that will give us more to talk about at all the gatherings they aren’t invited to.  Keeping that in mind, if someone comes to your party that you’ve never really associated with, here’s what’s really on their mind:

“Just because I came to your lame ass party doesn’t mean I want to hang out with you and your whack ass friends, because I don’t. ”

A lot of people will show up to parties just see how you live, whether it be grand like the lifestyle you hype up; or shabby, like the lifestyle most people expect from you. 


People who don’t reveal when they catch you in a lie hold tightly to their leverage because they’re simply assessing your skills at being dishonest.   Any smart person knows that a liar is more valuable as an ally than they are as an enemy.  So when you’re lying through your teeth and someone knows it, what they’re really thinking is:

“Just because I haven’t pulled your card doesn’t mean I believe you’re telling the truth, because I don’t. ”

Not putting someone on the spot is just another way of finding out who and how they really are. 

Who ever said, “…the truth will set you free.”?

Oh, and if anyone ever questions your next overly animated story, look for the nearest exit, because a setup is sure to catch you at the next red light! 


So now that you’ve heard a few tricks of the trade, I’m curious to know what you’re thinking?   And if I were you, I’d be honest with me.  Me, being an expert at what I’m sharing with you gives me an advantage.   Just because I hipped you to the game doesn’t mean I think you’ll win, because I don’t.   But I’ll give you an “A” for effort.  Because if you haven’t learned anything else, I’m sure you’ve learned that 90% of any effort is getting started. 


Quote of the week:   “Where secrecy reigns, carelessness hides.”

Hottywood’s HORRORscopes: Week of August 15-21, 2010