Hillary Swank is a Sell Out and a Communist

No, no, that's not right. She's just "a girl from a trailer park with a dream."

Wow.

It's Monday, my darlings, and I wanted to share some things with you that I thought were amusing, thought-provoking and totally rocking. So, this is the

MONDAY MORNING SMORGASBORD

-A friend of mine just told me in a very candid way that he now has a "bit of a girlfriend." I think this is a great way to put it. "Lay off Mom, we've been dating three weeks, I just have a bit of a girl." This also begs the question of "Which bit?" How much is a bit in technical terms? And what's the next step? A ginormous amount of a girlfriend?

That's awesome. Way to go, guy. I really like that. I like that in the same way that I like the term "special lady friend" instead of girlfriend. (That was a phrase coined by the always-suave MLCIII.) A bit of a special lady friend. I am sounding sarcastic, I think, but I am for the reals on this one: I like this idea. Quantify your relationships. We had a little sex. We are dating a skotch (sp?). The possiblities are endless. Don't ever be vague about where something is heading! Be direct! Place a value on intangible things like you would on things that actually exist! No longer will we only feel comfortable saying "I ate a lot of food at the Sizzler." We can also say "I would like a touch of him in my life! Just a touch, now! Go easy!"

-Just stop for a second and take yourself back to last night's Oscars. Virginia Madsen, stunning actress in this year's Sideways, brought her mom to the show with her. She also looked super hot. As she was being interviewed by a painfully-bad Roger Ebert, imagine her precious bro Michael Madsen sitting at home.

Picture him in a dirty wife-beater and boxers, holding a lukewarm can of Natty Light in front of the TV. As Virginia and Mom wow the crowd with their poise and beauty, he drunkenly lists all of his acting credits, of which there are many, goddamnit.

He will shock the imaginary fans in his empty living room with tales about Ashton Kutcher giving him an autographed trucker cap on the set of My Bosses' Daughter...he will wow the furniture with his story about how the whale in Free Willy 2 was a conservative republican and voted for Bush in '88. He is also getting very, very drunk. Eventually, he just starts screaming "Oh, really, Ginny? From Candyman to THIS? You were always mom's favorite!" and silent tears stream down his face as he pictures Hillary Swank with no clothes on.

-My trainer, aka Warren Beatty/Buddha strikes again. I was complaining of a slight pain in my left elbow that was keeping me from doing dips properly. He looked at me, looked THROUGH me even, and said, "I don't know, kid. Tie a couple of apples to it. Now do some lunges." and I was so bewildered by this comment that I didn't even bother to think about how much I hate lunges.

I am still pondering this true meaning of this statement.

-Cruising around the Pacific Design Center on Saturday, admiring the lights, the crisp night air, the company. Smiling. Laughing. Buttoning up the ole jean jacket. Loving life. And then it happened. Clive Owen walking towards us on the opposite side of the sidewalk.

Backstory: I have been a fan of his for a long time, before all this James Bond hype and Closer attention. I was one of three people to see Croupier. I love this man. I would iron his socks if he asked. Even if they were dirty. Even if they had poo on them, in fact.

Back to Saturday: I see Clive. I freeze. I freeze in mid-f'ing-step. And he looked over. And he kind of nodded his head at us.

The only thing anyone on the street could hear an instant later, over the sounds of portable generators and cars whizzing by, was the sound of me yelling "Holy Mother of FUCK."

Classy.

-Al Ruddy accepted the Oscar for Best Picture last night. He also once threatened to kick my friend's ass. My friend, having been in the biz for years now, was helping out a lady friend (but not a Special lady friend) by letting her stay at his house. She was a nut job. She also liked knives.

This chick would cry when he would cut his hedges because he was hurting the bushes. And she and Roman Polanski got along famously. Not a coincidence.

Anyway, one beautiful day my pal walks into his house. NutJob is coming at him with a knife. He grabs her and "puts her down hard." He steps on her neck and takes away the knife. Then he kicks her out.

She ran to Al Ruddy, who was working over at Paramount with Roman at the time. She tells them the story but leaves out the part about her charging at him with a sharp object in her hand. Al, known for his masculinity and general height, calls my friend in that deep voice of his and says "That's it. I'm on my way over. I'm going to kick your ass, buddy."

He never came. Mark came that close to being pummeled by this year's Best Picture winner.

Mark also told me that the assistant cameraman for The Godfather was from one of the biggest mafia families in NYC. I will forever refer to him as "Jimmy Focus Puller."

yowser. g