In Los Angeles
I am briefly in Los Angeles for a stop on "The Chelsea Handler Show," which I think has a different name than that, but I don't know what it is, so I'm calling it "The Chelsea Handler Show." In addition to having a successful television program, Chelsea also has a New York Times best-selling book, which is even more popular than Tucker Max's book. And so, of course, I am probably going to challenge her to a fist fight. You might think I would have learned my lesson about challenging people to fights when I have no intention of following through, but you would be wrong to think this. After all, I have spent most of my career not learning lessons, and I don't intend to start now. Moreover, I think Chelsea could probably kick my ass about as well as Tucker. The difference? If she did it, I would probably enjoy the beating.
According to the photo I just found on the internet and pasted here, she has surprisingly big boobs. Not sure if that topic will come up in the interview or not, but if it does, I will be ready to ogle and grope. I have found that certain inappropriate behaviors are acceptable when done in the service of "comedy." For example, I once made out with Sarah Silverman in front of her then boyfriend Jimmy Kimmel when Stella appeared on that television program. Why? Because I thought it was "funny." So maybe I will get to second with Chelsea for the same reason. And if that's funny, just imagine how funny it will be if I make love to her mouth! Hilarious! If my wife or her boyfriend object, I can just plead comedy.
Also on the docket tomorrow, another interview on the Adam Carolla show. The last time I was on his radio program, we spent the interview discussing the fact that he thinks I'm gay. Since then, Adam has appeared on "Dancing With the Stars."
That's pretty much it. The birthday last night was, as predicted, horrible. No mention of my whereabouts in any of the New York papers or even on the Chuck E. Cheese website. What's the point of having a birthday if it isn't covered by the tabloids? Honestly, what's the point of anything? So I turn a year older and for what? So I can be ignored? On the plus side, I did have birthday sex. On the negative side, it was by myself.