Here are some things that don't go together:

• pants that are too tight
• Monday
• not enough sleep

Sigh. But I am trying (rather unsuccessfully) not to get cranky, because really. Are those things worth getting cranky about when terrorists are bombing buses and Seattle will soon be a tropical country?

I think not.

In other news, I am continuing my rampage in nightclubs about town. After flashing the twins at the Mirabeau Room a couple weeks ago, this last weekend, I nearly got thrown out of another hipper-than-thou Seattle bar for calling the hostess a bitch.

The problem, see, was that she was one. After I nicely explained that to the manager, as well as apologizing in a sh*t-eating tone, I was allowed to stay in the bar and they excused the butch lesbian security guard from the task of throwing me out. (I could have taken her).

What can I say? I am normally sweet as pie and very polite (really!), but I had low blood sugar at the time, and I can't stand it when people to whom I am giving money speak to me in snotty tone! Plus, as you might recall, I am a celebrity-in-training! Like Russell Crowe, I have thrown telephones, not just directly at anyone. But be careful what you say to me - especially when I haven't had dinner and my pants are too tight!

In other news, I'm not going to discuss my date last week because we all know I don't do that anymore. Last time I checked, however, I'm still single.

Which is why I had to bribe a series of no less than three men into my condo this weekend to help put together disassembled furntiure and stereo parts that were the result of getting the place painted last weekend. With the result that everything is now reassembled, except my stupid remote control doesn't work. Helllooo, anyone like to take on that challenge?

Finally, the moment we've all been dreading. This site is going to have to come down sooner or later. BB has certainly served her purpose - and more! She got me a book deal, after all. But it's time for me to move on to a new phase in my life that doesn't involve me breaking up with someone every two months just so I have something to write about. After all, I can't freakin' write about it anymore anyway!

This is an early warning. I'm not quite ready to do it. Yet. As we all know, breakups are hard.

xo, BB