If you're not Donald Trump, check out our archives below. If you are Donald Trump, fix your hair before you do that. Please.
Sunday, March 07, 2010
Crap! Sorry for the mild profanity. Li'l Bo Bradley showed up again with his posse, so I had to make a hasty retreat. That man has "gats" and "nines" and such. I can't tangle with him. I guess he had just left his seat to go buy a funnel cake in the lobby. He just made eye contact with me, and I saw 187 in his glassy corneas. So I'm hiding out here in the bathroom. I can hear cheering from the theater. What am I missing? Dagnab and doggone. Sorry, more mild profanity. Can't help it. So sweaty.
Jack Nicholson was just in here, pinching a loaf. The man's excreta smells like death and scabs. Ick! Get me out of here. I'll try to sneak back into the balcony in a moment. Give Li'l Bo Bradley time to dig into that funnel cake and forget about the 187.