Between 5PM and 11PM Last Night, I Drank Three Liters of Diet Pepsi. Aspartame Flows Through My Veins.

Michelle generously supplied me with an advance copy of Carbon Leaf's upcoming album, "Love Loss Hope Repeat," which I HEART. The only thing tainting this musical experience is knowing that listening to this radio friendly folky Celtic shizzle has me a step or two away from wearing Dave Matthews Band shirts and masturbating to Boyd Tinsley's violin.

I've officially risen above Spice Nation.

How did Posh bend her body like that? She looks like Stretch Armstrong.

Today's Vice-Presidential Factoid of Amazingness:

William R. King - the 19th century's answer to Jim McGreevy.
Yet another Vice-President relegated to the dustbins of similar-minded Emmaphiles, William Rufus DeVane King was VP under Franklin Pierce for roughly the same amount of time that William Henry Harrison (<3) was President. However, King was not the victim of his own obstinance regarding outerwear during inauguration speeches; it appears that he was the victim of a rather nasty case of tuberculosis. In a political decision that makes absolutely no sense, King was selected as Franklin Pierce's running mate, even when he was clearly dying of TB during the convention. I'm sorry, as much as I love Franklin Pierce, I would have had severe misgivings about voting a corpse in as the second in command.

By the time Pierce got elected and was about to sworn in, King was almost dead. He was in Cuba to improve his health, which would be a laughable statement in this day and age. You know, because Communist dictatorships are known for their fine air quality and compassion for human beings. Anyway, since King was too sick to go back to Washington for the ceremonies, he was sworn in as VP in Cuba. I would love to do an experiment in 2008 with VP-elect Obama, a bible and a drinking hole in Havana. (I'm assuming that Fidel will live to be 180 because scum of the earth always lasts longer than you want it to. Except for Che. He was actually wiped off the face of the earth in a pretty timely manner.) Any takers?

"Hill, thank you for making me your running mate."

The best part about William R. King is that he may have had a steamy buttsex good time with James Buchanan, which makes sense, because Buchanan's supporters were the ones who made such a big stink about getting King on the Presidential ballot in 1852. Also, they lived together for 16 years. Come on. This should be a lesson to eligible gay men who aspire to a successful political career. Sleep with James Buchanan.

Hey there.