Pigs and whistles.

Had lunch with one of my favorite people yesterday: Timmy. Or, Tim, as he would rather I call him. As he’s not 2 years old. But really, what fun would calling him “Tim” do me? None. That’s right, none.

Anyhoo, Timmy definitely approves of me “getting out there.” As I need to move on from Dipshit. Timmy doesn’t like Dipshit. Timmy has never met Dipshit BUT that’s irrelevant. Timmy proved his dislike for Dipshit with this symbolic gesture: Dipshit, meet Timmy's fist-o!


Awesome, right? Yup, I thought so.

On our way back to our respective offices, Timmy told me about an actress that looks a lot like me—and then sent me photos of her. Um, I must say, the resemblance is pretty damn weird. (I added the Maxim photo for kicks. Allow me to dream a little, please.)







Of course, it would help if you had a photo of me to compare it to BUT alas . . . you’ll have to try your hardest to remember what I look like. This chick is some pop singer turned actress in England: Billie Piper. And now, she's my nemesis.

So, all in all, fun lunch. Thanks, Timmy! (Yes, I’ll never call you Timmy again.)

Timmy.