Capriciousness is my perdition, it’s true, and goodness knows that I’ve waxed (hard) and on and on about my silly little schoolgirl crushes on, say, Hal Sparks, Seth Green, blah-blah-blah for centuries. And you’ve all been so very patient with me, and I thank you. But you can scrap all that retarded crap.

Today, indeed, is a fresh new day, and I am a fresh new Adrian, and it pleases fresh new parts of me unspeakably to introduce to you my newest and onlyest one true love, the poster boy of everything I want to put in my mouth, my Knight in Shining Please Fuck Me, Bret Harrison, as he appears in some new CW show that I won’t quite admit to watching yet:

Please make a note of it.

Then: Just in time for Thanksgiving, landmass Kirstie Allie has been diagnosed with “Amerexia”. Amerexia is a gastronomic malady singular to Americans that causes its victims to eat and eat and eat compulsively no matter WHAT the fuck they say about “Jenny Craig”, until they finally just blow apart like a busted meat balloon. According to Wikkipeedia, Amerexics are prone to a whole nightmare list of inevitable fatty-fatty-two-by-four type health troubles, including, but not limited to, cardiac arrest, type 3 diabetes, arteriosclerosis, liver implosion, full-body hernia, acute and irreversible spinal compaction, spontaneous pulverization of the knees and hips, permanent neck displasia, acres and acres of exploded 501s, and a distinct inability to get through the kitchen door. Delicious food everywhere is encouraged to stay indoors, and not go out alone after November 20th.

Elsewhile: Ann Coulter, The Most Vile Bitch Ever ™, wants to die, and only an exploding Muslim will do.

“I want a fatwa,” Annie said in some snooty sounding thing called British Esquire. “I used to see Salman Rushdie in the Sky Bar in L.A. He wasn’t in hiding; he became world-renowned for his fatwa. So why can’t I get a fatwa? Don’t they read my stuff?”

Osama bin Laden, the ball’s in your court.

In completely unrelated news: A sudden and unprecedented surge in worldwide conversions to radical Islamism or whatever in the last twenty seconds has officials at The Center for the Study and Tracking of Religious Conversions alarmed (“At this rate, we’ll all be ragheads by the end of the week”), and a bunch of Chicano kids is reporting a 3,000% spike in sales of “Celebrity Homes” tourist maps featuring the home address of Ann Coulter.

Lastly: Britney Spears’ bodyguard’s bodyguard accused him of watching Britney take drugs in front of the kids this week in court. “It was disgusting they way he’d watch her take drugs in court, and right on front of the kids!” The custody battle is expected to rage as long as the ratings hold up.