Tid Bits from Tiny

• On the subway, when seated upright and resting all the way back on my seat, my feet do not touch the ground. Thanks, flats I wore today, for reminding me that I'll never be a real grown-up.
• I'm fairly certain that our FED EX guy would like to host a party in my pants. He's 90. But I am still flattered! Thus exposing how desperately I crave attention and adoration. (Hell, if I thought love really existed, I might crave that, too. Thank God I don't. What an empty life that would be.)
• Ellen DeGeneres dancing makes me uncomfortable. The boogie in question is a staple on her show. After her monologue, the DJ "kicks it" and the audience claps along and just watches Ellen swish, strut and do The Butt all over the set, like a trained seal. And she doesn't seem to care, she even eggs them on, like a stripper (only this one's dressed lesbo casual). Armchair Psychologists, professional or crack-pot: I invite you to submit theories as to the cause of this discomfort. Help me escape the prison that is my inhibition. It's some strain of intimacy issue, that's for sure.
• If you haven't rocked out to Springsteen's BORN IN THE U.S.A or BORN TO RUN albums in a while, do yourself a solid and give them a spin as soon as humanly possible.
• Please pray for THE INSIDER'S anchor, Pat O'Brien (formerly of ACCESS HOLLYWOOD). He's drying out in some swanky CA rehab for pussies where they get deep tissue massages and decorate cupcakes to express their feelings. Pat, I wish you paper slippers, drunk dreams, awe-inspiring humility and a 5 star whack job for a roommie. I'll never forget you hosting Olympic Latenight on CBS from Lillehammer in '94. You nursed me through a nasty bought of Olympic Fever. You were there for me, so now I am here for you. Hey, I've got more than a year in "the program." If you need a sponsor, let me know, ya soak.