I hope I don't seem too off tonight - I caught Paris Hilton's new single the other day; now my ears itch, and it burns when I hear.

Y'like what I did there, right? Yeah...it's funny cuz she's a whore.

I saw in the paper yesterday that Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan got into it at some Hollywood party recently, and the papers were calling it a "catfight," which to me is typical tabloid exaggeration.

We all know the rule of thumb: it ain't a catfight, unless we see some titty. It's gotta be confirmed by at least two witnesses...

So I say let'em go at it til shit gets to rippin'. It's not like there's high expectations floating around for these two. It's not like there's a lot of people who think 'Paris Hilton' and 'Lindsay Lohan' and immediately think, 'class.'

I've known chicks from Jersey with more self-esteem. Seriously, as I speak there is a fifty year old toothless prostitute in Atlantic City right now, blowing some dude under the boardwalk for bus fare, and you know what she's thinking? "Well...at least I'm not being taped."

I also notice that Team USA have been eliminated from World Cup Soccer competition by Ghana...it must suck being eliminated by a country whose national anthem basically consists of "*clicks tongue*WHOOP!" but hey, are you really that surprised?

It's no secret that the vast majority of people in this country neither like, care nor respect soccer, and I'll tell you why that is: it reminds Americans of how white this country is.

You constantly hear about immigrants on the news, or this minority or that minority, but make no mistake, even with all that, America is one white country. America is like a 10 oz. glass of milk with half a teaspoon of Nestle's Quik in it. Shake it up all you want, it's still pretty damned white.

And that's the problem with soccer. Soccer requires a lot of foot to eye coordination, and America just doesn't have that. We were founded by Puritans, who think anything short of walking was a sin. So yeah, we didn't stand a chance. Basically, if you wanted to try out for the US team, if you could do the Electric Slide without tripping, you were in.

But that's that...incidentally, I'm having a very good day today. My girlfriend called me about three hours ago to tell me that the tests came back negative. Negative for what? Doesn't really matter. Doesn't matter at all. I think the guys can all agree: if any woman calls you and tells you that tests came back negative...that's just a good day, right there.

Here's something interesting that happened. I was hanging out in a book store, right? And I saw something I had never seen before. Heard stories about it; never saw it first hand. It wasa a woman openly nursing her baby. And it was fascinating, man - the baby didn't even look hungry. She just whipped it out, and slapped him on. And it was fascinating watching this woman engage in a perfectly normal, natural, human bodily function...

And yet when I peed on her, she got all mad and called security.

Women. Pfft.

I like talking about babies and peeing because if there's one thing we've got a lot of in the apartment it's pregnancy tests. 'Cuz we are scared of having children right now. Scared. Because a lot of it has to do with what you bring to the table genetically, and that's a hard decision for us. There's a lot of lazy people on my side of the family, and there's a lot of crazy people on her side of the family. And between the two of us? Whole lotta sluts. So we gotta be careful, considering how lucky we were to have turned out how we did.

So, we have cats. Got a little practice family going there. I get my Daddy buzz off the cats. It's a brother/sister combo. There's Mena, and she's a little sweetheart - like a little baby girl. And I get all the good stuff of having a daughter with her. She's always happy to see me, she purrs when I pick her up...

So I'm getting all the good stuff from having a daughter, but without all the unpleasantness that comes later. Some ten years from now I won't have to deal with "but he's my boyfriend Daddy, and I love him, and it's MY life and if we want to be together, you can't stop us!!"

Because for one thing, she's fixed. And for another, she's a cat, and well...cat's can't talk.

Tino is our "son," and he's a little troublemaker. Naturally. And I'll tell you, I felt bad about getting him fixed, because...well, I've never said this about another living thing, but Tino had some of the nicest balls I have ever seen in my life.

I feel qualified to say this because as a 27 year old heterosexual American male, (A) I have seen a lot of porno, therefore (B) I've seen a lot of balls. At six months of age, Tino had'em all beat.

And it's not like I couldn't miss'em...every time I turned around, he had his ass in the air - 'cause he's a cat, and cats always have their ass in the air - and I would walk into a room, and there he was and I couldn't help it: "Honey! Look at those balls! My GOD, what magnificent balls!"

They were these perfectly round little spheres, man - grey an white fur all evenly distributed...I wish mine looked so good. Mine look like an old dude with a cleft chin who can't grow a full beard.

But they had to go, and I think it made him worse. That shit was supposed to calm him down; didn't work. I think it's revenge. I leave a room for twenty seconds, I come back and he's hanging offa shit. And he's got this look in his eyes like, "I know it was you!!!!" I don't really know for sure.

Because he's a cat. And, as we've established...cat's can't talk.

Father's Day was this past Sunday, so that was cool. Reminded me of something my Dad told me years ago. He said, "Son...the best things in life aren't free. They're messy."

He said that to me on the day I left for college. Truer words have never been spoken.

Think of the finest moments of your life for a second.

Now ask yourself one thing: when it was over...were you sticky?

Yeah...I think you were.

Thank you very much. My name is Greg Manuel, hope you're having a good time - good night!