The Sistine Chapel. Everyone should see it at least once before they meet the Wiz. If only for the fact that if you show up in shorts they will make you buy paper pants. I think they should make all the naked people on the ceiling wear paper pants… “And God named the first man Adam, and gave him paper pants, and he was not ashamed.”
The Berlin Wall. Members of “The Hoff” (the David Hasselhoff Fan Club), meet annually at a remnant of the wall on East 53rd st. in Manhattan, next to Burger Heaven. When not professing their love for Baywatch, conversation gravitates around Cuckoo Clocks, and cleaning, and sausages.
Paris. If you’re going to gain 7 pounds anyway, forget the crepe, apply Nutella directly to your thighs.
LA’s Korean Taco Truck: I asked for “A Dog Bended Like Beckham”. To my chagrin, apparently this is not the universal code for Dogmeat Taco.
When in New York, I recommend that you see my analyst, Dr. Piblokto. I don’t know what I enjoy more, his plastic covered couch, the cream-colored carpeting in the vestibule, or the early-19th century seascape precariously tilted to one side in the patient bathroom. Sometimes I get angry about his ashtrays, but then we talk about it, and my delusions of being possessed by a Windigo subside and we can concentrate on my episodes of frotteurism at whale watching events.
Jonathan Salon in Beverly Hills. Tell him you have a hairy butt and you’d like him to take a little off the bottom.
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