Two Thousand Six

I just awoke from my New Year's Eve celebrations. I spent most of my days resting my head on my soft goose down pillow, mildly comatose, for three weeks. Thank God my housekeeper Marisol had the foresight to feed me intavenously, and my publisict Lizzie G. keeping it all under "wraps". Then it was one week of physical rehabilitation. So far I can use 1/2 of my body. That's 3/4 more than any of you use - and, yes, I can still "get it up".

So much has already happed happened in my absence. George Clooney won a Globe. Joaquin flipped his SUV. Reese wore Kirsten's dress.

Tonight are the SAG awards and Tuesday morning the Academy Award Nominees will be announced at 5:38 am Pacific Coast Time.

I'm still praying for a supporting nomination for my part in "Munich". That damn, Matt Dillion, may clinch the 5th spot, and knock me out fo the running. But we'll see. I've hired a firm to deal with Matt. A firm, Firm. If you catch my draft, and a lead crowbar to your windpipe.

But on the lighter side of things, being in coma aided me through most of my New Year's Resolutions. Here are a few I shall post for your perusual.

1. Stop watching "Dancing With The Stars".

2. Stop my habitual obsession with anal bleaching. Sayanora, J. Sisters.

3. Re-read the entire 1989 collection of People Magazine.

4. Makeout with JC Chasez, again. This time sans confidentiality agreement.

5. Find my biological sisters; Tissa, Penelope and Gretel.

6. Find a gym with private Two Person steam rooms.

7. Organize my Oolong and Rooibos Teas.

8. Get clip-on Gold Caps for my teeth. For those nights out with Nas and Kelis.

9. Make up with Alfre Woodard. Alfre, if your listening, what's past is past.

10. Join the N.R.A. (National Rifle Association). I love Pheasant.

11. Finish the libretto to my musical "Aunt Jemima".

Those are the "public domain" version of my resolutions. My personal comprehensive, extensive resolution list can be viewed at there you will find out all my secrets for public fodder and display. So you can profit off my private dalliances by doing exposes for bathroom and dental office magazines. I hope you roast in hell. Leave Brad and Angelina alone! Opportunists!

Anyway, to all my fans and friends, my fingers are numb from releasing the Truth. I must change my Depends, curl up to my DVD set of Remington Steele and recuperate before Oscar Noms tuesday. I love you all because you all love me.

Amen. It's good to be back!

Beckett Boo, esquire.
Cat Blogger Extraordinaire!