And while we're on the subject ...

An open letter to Charlie the Tuna...

Stop trying to get an audition with Starkist. It's not an audition. Yes, the name of the product includes the word "star." That doesn't mean they want to make you a star. They don't want to put you in show business, you idiotic Phil Silvers lookalike. THEY'RE GOING TO KILL YOU. They're going to chop you up into little pieces and put you in a can. That's what the Starkist people do to tuna. Unlucky dolphins too. Do you want that? Is a death wish at work here?

I don't think so. You're not suicidal. You're a dreamer. But it's time to stop dreaming. It's time to accept your life as it is. A career in cinema does not await you, Charlie. You're a fish who wears sunglasses and a beret. Get used to it. And stop tugging on that hook before they kill you.

Sorry, Charlie.

Trix are for rabbits.

Give the fucking rabbit some Trix. For the love of God, people, he's on the fucking box.

The rabbit is a gentle soul. Trusting. Creative. For some reason -- and you could hit me in the head with a rock and I still couldn't explain it -- he isn't bitter.

The rabbit is a bright-eyed, eternal optimist. He has sunshine in his heart.

Yet, the children deprive him of Trix. Their reasoning? Identity. Apparently, the rabbit can't have Trix BECAUSE HE'S A RABBIT. That's it. "Silly rabbit. Trix are for kids!" That's their line of reasoning. Trix are for kids. The rabbit is not a kid. He can't have Trix. Well, QED. Silly rabbit! Yeah, he's silly. He's a rabbit. He wants something that IS NOT MEANT FOR HIM. He aspires beyond his station. What a fucking idiot! Clearly, stuffing "fruit-flavored frosted corn puffs" in your digestive track is a privilege reserved for human children. So they laugh at him. Like the arrogant children of white plantation owners mocking slaves. "Silly slave. Mint juleps are for white people."

The rabbit doesn't argue. He strives for Trix with subterfuge and stratagems. He doesn't pull out an AK-47 and mow the children down while screaming with rage. He wears disguises. He sends fake telegrams. It never works.

Inevitably, the little shits say, "Silly rabbit, Trix are for kids." And he takes it. He keeps on smiling.

One of these days, I promise you, the rabbit is going to snap.

Give the fucking rabbit some Trix. Please.

Before it's too late.

Dad's Company

(to the tune of "Bad Company" by Bad Company)

A nepotist, a slacker I am called

I go to work, and just stare at the wall

Arrive at twelve, and then I’m gone by one

But no one speaks

‘Cause I’m the boss’ son

(That’s what he tells me)

It’s Dad’s company

I can’t deny it

Dad’s company

Till the day he dies

I got my car

And my expense account

Those escort gals

Make my expenses mount

Convention fun

Las Vegas and LA

Put the drinks on me

My daddy's gonna pay!

That’s what he tells me …

It’s Dad’s company

I can’t deny it

Dad’s company

Till the day he dies