Break out the wine coolers!

Say! Why not use this to record the moronic things that bounce around in my head and never get written down otherwise? Why not carry this 'freak with access to a computer' thing to its logical conclusion? Let's not lie—we're hurtling straight for the Cliffs of Shitheadedry!

Nothing arouses my contempt like smooth jazz. It's so joyfully bland. Smooth jazz musicians actually sound like they're having as much fun as real jazz musicians. At some point I managed to sum up my hatred for it like this.

Smooth jazz music is just the right kind of music to play at a dance mixer for hopelessly mild mid-40s divorcees; the kind who drink wine coolers, smoke weird menthol cigarettes, drive '97 neon-purple Corrollas and are too dumb to keep a job even in, say, public relations.

So live a little! Crank up the SMOOTH JAZZ! Sway your misshapen hips and wave around your arms so we can all see your prematurely rotting skin! And remember to watch those calories! And don't forget to read the newest riveting work from Danielle Steele! Say, let's be really kinky and have the daiquiri wine coolers instead of the margarita ones! It makes me hot enough to rot off the half-inch of foundation and mascara I've plastered onto my hideous face!

Oh, I dunno who the guy in the picture is. But his look epitomizes smooth jazz. "Ah yes!" he says in his husky voice. "I love the sax. I love to sit on this comfortable couch and crack open a can of ice-cold Tab. Aaaaaaah! Refreshing!"