I am a scientist.  Some might say it is unfortunate I let Science dictate my daily life.  I say, “Fuck you”.  I love biology, and there’s nothing you can do about it.  So love leaves with me, or I’ll shove it. 

I have a list of celebrities who I would like to be friends with (and I think they would like it too).

1. Quentin Tarantino – He is the reason I can go to sleep at night, thinking,  “Weird people can succeed, and when I do, people will like me!”

2.  Conan O’Brien.  Not too original with this one.  Most collies (def. Cool guys) like him. Me too. Favorite skit songs: “What in the World?!” and “In the Year 2000”.  I, too, am a self-deprecating, inner secret, shaky egoist. I can’t go any deeper, I don’t wanna talk about it.  

3.  Al Franken.  This man says everything I know I want to say. TO people I don’t have the balls, or celebrity to.  He has confidence because he was a good college wrestler.  And he backs it up with cold, hard, funny facts.  Like that the “W” in George W. Bush does not stand for “Walker” but rather “Walker: Texas Ranger”.  

4.  Seth Kornblueth.  A relative unknown.  Check out his incredible movie I’m serious for once, Haiku Tunnel. Boo ya-kasha.  Ayah.   

5.  Looks like another sausage fest at my place.  That’s why I’m also gonna invite Heidi Klum and her hot friends to join in the party. Ahh, my sweetheart since those sticky days in sixth grade.

Ok, my friends, alliteration and Aaron. Adam, Asshole (Josh) and Gay Flesh (JFlash!).  I have always written, but to myself.  And talked to myself, and, of course, only said stupid things to others.  Now it’s time to turn things around.  Yeah right.  Aaron is revoking foot rubbing privileges until I write an autobiography.  And fake being his radio wave buddy.  We really only wrestle and rub with Russell. 

Enough about Us, and more about my great life.  As a scientist, I’m gonna change the world, and you do by just being here.  Blah, blah, interacting and crap.  I’m optimistic about the world, and me and us as a species.  As long as we can always make love, baby. Indians from the Amazon and Africa.  The Chinese, Nigerians, Dutch, (Icelanders are fucked up, but not as much as Finland) all together mixing our genes in a global orgy.    I think that might be a peace.  Politics, and all the “tyranny and the bullshit”. It’s just not communicating. Misunderstanding or acting different to get what you want.  I want Bush out.  I am a liberal Democrat, capitalist but with strong, and efficient and extensive social infrastructure and securities.  I think science can solve, or alleviate all our real problems, like food, energy, disease. More notorious than Presidents Bush’s business contacts, is Junior’s policy failures.  He had fucked up a lot, so much on foreign policy, which really matters only in our capacity to help others and ourselves.  By destroying the good will Clinton had masterfully cultivated, the Bush collusion just seems to be carrying out a plan for a grab of executive power.  I wish Congress were more powerful, and it can be.  Parliaments certainly have more consensus.  Bush’s tax cuts obviously favor the rich, detainees’ rights don’t have to be, and should not be abused.  Security is so tough, for us, I think clever economic incentives must, in combination, cut away the roots of terrorism.

Wow, that tirade was tiring.  And alliteration is gay.  So, more about me.  I lived this summer in the Bronx (Ghetto-impresario), working at the Albert Einstein College of Medicine.  I shared a basement with a nutsy Tunisian named Abdul-Krim, and a German named Florian. Now Florian is a nice guy, he gives me quarters for the washing machine.  He lends me toilet paper.  But two weeks ago we were playing ping pong, and things got ‘rough’. 

Now Florian spent much of his lonely adolescence in Bavaria, a far removed region of Germany only of note because it produces “The Ultimate Driving Machine”.  During his young years, Florian spent much of his time as a bench warmer of the soccer, netball and tennis teams.  But he did excel at one thing, ping pong, or as the Germans call it, “zukkingmamazerztvat”.  In our cramped basement, with only two paddles, a white ball and a table to burn time, Florian and I got quite competitive.  The teasing soon began with me, after a great slam, quipping, “Come on Adolf, just because you have one ball doesn’t mean you can’t hit one back.”  This enraged our friendly nationalist socialist, and his face burned red and his neatly trimmed mustache twitched.  We parried back and forth, my killer top spin matched by his smooth return, until game point.  Florian began with a wicked serve, microns above the tape, and I returned back with a full swing and grunt of Kournikova-esque effort.  But Florian knew what to do, shouting “Heil Hilter!”, he slammed that hollow white ball, it ricocheted off the table and hit me right between the eyes, Goliath-style.  With his right arm raised in victory he spat, “That’s six million and one”.  I bristled with anger, my hand grasping my circumcised member in a defensive position.  The other reached into my back pocket, where it unwrapped something I always prayed I would never have to use.  The silver Throwing Star of David flashed in the basement’s harsh florescent light as it buried itself in his heartless chest.  “How does that taste, you frankfurter sucking, Benz-building, mother-zukker?”  “Gurgle, gurgle…long live Daimler!!!……gasp, gurgle,” was the reply as his mouth filled with blood and his beady eyes grew dim and still. 

So, in conclusion, I am a wanna-be radio show personality, bona-fide life of the party, budding scientist and up and coming Nazi killer.  Let’s be friends.  And listen to our show, on WESU 88.1 Rocking Radio, and hear what I and some important people think and feel.  You fucking robot!