I thought she looked out of place but I couldn't

I thought she looked out of place but I couldn't think why. She'd wrapped her skirt around her legs & was humming a tune. It was her hair which was wrong and I realised that she

totally should not be trying out for the lead of "Susan Powers: The Musical" because her hair was way too bushy, I mean her afro was at least 4 feet high. I stood backstage to

determine the best way to convince her to try out for the sequel to Jersey Boys ... Jersey Girls. But damn, the music of the Susan Powers is so amazing I get a woody every time

someone shouts "Cha-Ching!" That's because I am a goof, a ne'er-do-well, a spicoli, a ham baster, a imp limpet, a burrito mute, a flaming sphincter, a fart whomp, a chest of

curly black hair that could only belong to Burt Reynolds. Being Burt Reynolds chest hair really has me missing Loni Anderson and WKRP in Cincinnati. It used to be that I could

is part of my identity, my masculinity, my strength... like Samson from the Old Testament. Loni was always my Delilah, which is why when she snuck in one night with her razor & sha

ved my arm pits. "It's just so... ish." she quipped as she plucked the last of the hairs. I became weak as new-born lamb, "Curse you woman! Now I'll never be champion!"

But a moment later, I knew there was a chance. In three weeks I could regrow my luxurious armpit hair, braid it and bead it, and she could never top that. Hah!

Sure enough, three weeks later, the prince climbed up my pit braids instead of Rapunzel's locks. A volunteer at Locks of Love later wed Rapunzel, so we both won. I won more though.