I could go on forever about how Valentine’s Day is a scabbed-over knife wound on the face of everything pagan holidays stand for, but I’m not going to. I’ve come to appreciate the beast for what it is: the one day of the year when my unappreciated ass can score a date! Even if it was arranged in the sweaty dungeons of tastes like chicken headquarters, beggars can’t be choosers. That fact was way too evident when our lucky winner of “Date with Debbie 2001” (aka “DWD2K+1”) called in during our monthly television appearance on the hit variety show, 19 @ Noon.

This month I sat down with "The Weasel" himself, Pauly Shore.
darby: What’s next for Pauly Shore?
Pauly: I’m doing more stand-up shows. I’ve been on tour for a couple of weeks. I’ll be up in Cleveland for two nights. My birthday is on Thursday. I’ll be 33. I just finished a movie.
d: Subs or grinders?
P: I don’t know what a grinder is.
d: It’s a toasted sub.
P: Well, I guess it depends on what the weather is. If it’s cold out, I’d go with the grinder; then flip it vice versa. Hot gets the sub, and cold goes with the grinder.

THE MOST SENSATIONAL, INSPIRATIONAL, CELEBRATIONAL, MUPPETATIONAL: THIS IS WHAT WE CALL FRANK OZ.
wayne: Did you always want to entertain people?

POEM ONE:
Under my pit is a tickle,
My grandma ate the whole pickle.
They’re all gonna laugh at us,
Carrie likes to ride the bus,
I’ll give you a banana for that nickel.
POEM TWO:
Here, kitty kitty,
Suck on her tittie.
Black ass delight,
Won’t put up a fight,
I am very giddy.
POEM THREE:
One little monkey jumpin’ on the bed,
One fell off and bumped his head.
Dorks are superheros,
Ohioans say “Gyros,”
The monkey is dead.
POEM FOUR:
Life is a chair of bowlies,

For some cruel, cosmic reason, yours truly seems to be caught in a veritable sexual time warp. Plainly put, I’m not getting laid nearly as much as a man of my stature should be. Now I know the first thing to pop into your mind is that my name is screwing me up. What honest, God-fearing woman would sleep with a man named debbie, right? Well that doesn’t amount to a hill of shit! Superstar Stacey Keech (of Mike Hammer fame) gets more action than an aborigine chief in Holland, and his name is Stacey! I just don’t get it. I’m 6’1” with a mustache, glasses, and a shapely beer gut.

WORTHINGTON, OH (AP) - On Thursday Mrs. Johanson’s 6th grade geometry class concluded almost unanimously that the assigned homework was “bullshit.”
“I’ll never use this stuff in real life,” 12-year-old Philip S. stated. “Isn’t that right Pete?” he asked looking for backup from his 21-year-old classmate.
“Sure won’t,” Pete replied. “Don’t need no geometry to flip any burger I ever came across.”

Well, it’s that time of the year again. Good old St. Patrick’s Day. In the past we’ve talked about mysteries of corn beef & cabbage, and the Irish’s favorite past time: drinking. This year, let’s talk about the day itself. This is our day. When I say “our,” I mean Irish folk. When did it become a day for everyone? Our holiday is the only one this applies to. It’s not like on Yom Kippur people go around screaming, “Kiss me, I’m Jewish!” I know this seems a little over the top, but it’s really not. Nobody even knows why we celebrate St.

HOLLYWOOD, CA (AP) - The rumor mills around Hollywood have been working overtime recently, pumping out unflattering allegations about actress Rosie Perez.
When reached for comment, Perez said in her defense, “Whacha haullin ova whacha kiel in pfeffer muskrah munch hausen! Uh donnwanna glassuh futha rienkah?!? Asparagus!”

CONNECTICUT (AP) - This past December, researchers at the University of Connecticut Health Center discovered a way to mutate the gene of fruit flies. When a single chromosome of the gene is modified, the life span of the fruit flies doubled from 37 days to 70 days. Nicknamed the “I’m Not Dead Yet” gene (after a Monty Python skit), the finding is expected to have a dramatic effect on the lives of humans, as well. The finding may lead to an extended life expectancy for humans, doubling the current life span of 73 years to nearly 150 years.

I was awake in bed, but I kept my eyes closed because the sunlight seemed too bright to be real. The wind that was gently blowing couldn’t be coming through the window I knew I’d shut the night before. When I heard the slow, sad whistle of an old steam engine I could no longer hold off my curiosity and let my eyes roll open. I was sitting upright in bed, but my room was nowhere to be seen. The two mattresses were the same ones I’d been sleeping on for eight years and the green plaid comforter, which had been a gift to me as an infant, was twisted up around my legs.