Retrograde down the Roger-Wilco Chocolate Highway

Thanks to all my family, friends, school-mates, cabbies, professors, and tricks for all the cards and letters you sent. I was all shook-up for a while, kind of like a bottle of coke.

I was free-wheeling with the Doors the other night, as I have wont to do every 6 months or so, but then my friend "the Himmler" told me that Jim Morrison just wasn't cool. Look, my friend is cool, not because of his German-reminding-me-of-Nazi-fantasies-name (although that doesn't hurt, per se), but because of his sensibilities. Like Jane Austen, what with all the foppish dandery and whatnot. To give you the full picture, I'm talking about crudité, although you all know damned well I can't eat raw broccoli.

So it always kind of hurts when a friend has to set you "straight". In the cab, I always say "forward, never straight!" and sometimes get the oddest looks from my fraternity/sorority clientele, who, very much like the "Mr. Show" sketch about the heavy metal band, don't realize the extent of their own rampant homosexuality.

But speaking of homosexuality: I need to set Pooter straight, (sic): I know all the arguments about football being gay, and becaues of my deep-seated love for Fran Tarkenton I have to reject them. If football is gay, then what are the cheerleaders doing there? Just watching? Watching men on men? And then watching each other? so it's kind of a dual-homo thing... but if America's most macho symbol of male sexuality is so homo, then you're saying...

Oh, I get it.

Never mind. There is nothing more gay than American Football, except American Football with Chaps.!!!!