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5:53 a.m. - 2007-08-10


I did a party last night for a local corporation.

At the end of the party (after going 15 minutes overtime ... for free), I thank everyone for having a great time, blah blah blah ... and began tearing down my sound system.

There were several people still in attendance, but one guy in particular had been a real pain all night long.

He'd been requesting songs all night and then not even acknowledging that I was playing them.

DJ Rule of Thumb, peeps ... if you request a song, at least dance to it. If the DJ's playing an 80s set and you come up and say "I need you to play 'Mack The Knife' next! It's verrrrry important!" ... then dance to the song while everyone else is looking at the DJ like he's some sort of idiot as they walk off the floor in disgust.

So this guy screams out "ONE MORE SONG!!!"

Which wouldn't have been a problem if I hadn't just played four songs over my limit.

I smiled and kept shoving discs in cases.


The guy was sitting at a table, about to slide out of his chair and hit the floor with his legs spread wide to keep him in the chair. Drunker than Lindsay Lohan at a baby shower.

At that point, I got on the microphone.

"Sir, I've gone over my allotted time here. There's several people trying to clean the room up so they can go home. I have a six year-old son who's waiting on his Daddy to tuck him into bed. At this point, time is money. Therefore ... one more song ... a hundred bucks. Give me one hundred dollars and you get your one more song."

The guy sat there swaying in the wind from the amount of alcohol coursing through his veins.

"I don't have a hundred dollars," he stammered.

"Fifty bucks then."

"I don't have fif..."

"Twenty bucks. You've GOT to have twenty bucks in your pocket!"

"I don't have any money."

"That's okay, I'll take your watch. Give me your watch and you get one more song."

"I can't give you my watch!"

"And I can't play one more song. Good night."

That's a little trick I learned from my dear buddy Mattie Gee who once waited for me to get completely and utterly shitfaced in a club before hitting me up for $100.

I handed him a hundred dollars and thought nothing of it.

The next day I didn't remember it.

All I knew was that by my calculations, I should have had $100 more in my wallet than I had.

I asked Mattie the next day if he remembered me blowing an extra $100 on booze.

"No man," he said. "I don't know nothin'."

This went on for WEEKS.

Finally, one day, he gave it back to me, chuckling like an idiot.

I'm not sure I've ever wanted to punch the guy harder.

But it was at least a good lesson to teach me ... always hit really drunk people up for money.

I've just modified the lesson and only hit up really drunk strangers for money.

Can I just say that I have searched my entire soul for one iota of interest in the fact that the Beckhams have come to America and cannot find an inkling of interest anywhere?

I am still quite shocked that Victoria "Posh Spice" Beckham generates any interest whatsoever.

She was the scowling, bitchy member of a prefabricated girl group that had a handful of hits ten years ago and then faded away as quick as they came on the scene.

She marries some guy who's supposed to be really good at kicking balls.

Now her one goal in life is to find a bunch of guys standing around with cameras in their hands and jump in front of them, pouting and posing and NOT CRACKING A FUCKING SMILE.

This woman just drives me apeshit.

I ... ummmm ... I watched "The Two Coreys" the other night for the first time.

Some of you may know or remember ... but I've got a real problem with Corey Feldman too.

And when I say "real problem" I mean "intense desire to beat him senseless with a baseball bat".

This show is as badly staged as my local retirement home's production of "Dreamgirls".

The show I saw had Corey and his wife Slutbag invite a PETA lady over for dinner and their nutty house guest Corey Haim ordered a pepperoni pizza behind their back so it was delivered during dinner.

Wacky hijinks ensued! Not!

Slutbag's whining in the kitchen that Haim has ruined the entire dinner with his throbbing lust for meat.

Meanwhile, Haim's hitting on the PETA lady who he says is a fox and ... honestly folks ... I'm no prize these days ... but even I WOULDN'T pork this skank.

This has Slutbag crying even harder because she really wants to work with PETA for some unknown reason. I guess she feels like somebody has to be bringing in some duckies in the household in order to help cover the monthly hair gel bills.

So she finally confronts the Haimer and PETA girl and ... here's the twist folks ... if you're sitting on the edge of your seats, you may want to back up a bit because you're about to be shocked right off of them ... PETA GIRL ALREADY HAS A BOYFRIEND!!!

All that worrying for nothing!!

All that time I spent in front of the TV for nothing!!

All that "index finger tickling the back of my throat trying to spew the bile out of my body to help ease the gut-wrenching queasiness I had as I watched this high definition bucket of sloppy monkey shit" for nothing!!

I've gotta say ... I'm not a big "Two Coreys" fan.

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