I have an article in this month’s GQ about me cuddling with perfect strangers. No, not Balki Bartokomous and cousin Larry Appleton. Don’t be ridiculous!


A millipede-like creature, maybe ten inches long and fat as a mofo, crawled across my couch during Bush’s predictably uninspiring speech last night. I almost crapped my jeans. Worse, I was too startled to kill the thing before it scooched back under the couch, where it surely sits in wait for a Michigan-bred victim. I will never sit there again.