This morning, my slow a.m. brain had an amazing revelation:

ME: Why does it smell like cat pee in here...?
BRAIN: ...
...
...
...maybe...it's cat pee.

Brilliant. I worry me.

Then, our office can of Lysol® died.
Now what am I supposed to hose myself down with in the morning?!

Sheesh.

So the dark lords of television cursed me last night for mentioning that Paris Hilton, Jr. commercial - I actually saw it. Twice. Oi, me eyeball-!

First of all, she is washing a car. WHY would Paris "Useless" Hilton be WASHING A CAR?!

Next, to add insult to injury, it abuses the song I Love Paris, which I previously enjoyed in the film French Kiss, as Meg Ryan sang:

I love Paris in the springtime
I love Paris in the fall
I love Paris in the summer
because my love is there...with his SLUT GIRLFRIEND!

Which is how they should have modified it here, as well.

Never again, with the Carl's, Jr. Not that I ever have, but if some day I get I wild hair, I will yank that sucker with Brazilian wax. And I will not think about Pee-ris' foul hole, which they practically show, while I'm doing it.

Now, please allow me to share this darling poem from Los Angeles Magazine's comedy issue, which I must say is otherwise mierda pura (it kisses old school SNL ass and claims Bob Saget is funny, if it's any indication):

From GIVE 'EM THE BOOT: LA's Ten Unfunniest People by Ed Leibowitz w/ drawerings by Drew Friedman - xo!

[Lovely illustration of Paris staring dejectedly at a large hourglass which is about to run out of sand. Her chihuahua is saying, "time's almost up, señorita."]

What to do with the boorish Hilton
Who can't tell Velveeta
from royal blue Stilton?
Great-grandad knew hospitality
But Paris is all banality
And Tinkerbell's tail is a-wiltin'

Thank you, E.L, and D.F., for making my day/Steal yourself an issue of Los Angeles Magazine today...!

And pick me up a can of Lysol Fresh Pants® Scent while you're at it.