The Osbournes

This show is absolutely insane and has a certain train-wreck fascination for me.

Jennifer, do you remember crazy pete...the crazy pete from our night at the bog where the two old slappers (one in pink capris and one in a muu muu) got into a drag down fist fight? The one that kept grasping your hand?

The night that freaky guy in a skin tight muscle shirt kept trying to forcefully seduce you by being an asshole?

Remember, the one with the lady/man doing the stocking dance and the fetid dixie beers?

That memorable night of strawberry something or another death shooters and being extolled to EN-joy each other by some drunk arse on the street....

Ah, I miss the days of feral utes and bad polyster shirts on old men....

Ozzy Osborne and crazy Pete share the same speech impediment....mumblemumblemumble... I wonder, did you keep his card as a memento of that night?

His wife is nutty in the way that only rich crazy old british bags can be nutty......

His children are indescribable, all I know is that I was much amused last week when one of the sprogs was complaining that the gyno had called her and told her how she should prepare her vagina for her appointment the next day.

You know how I'm absolutely stunned by people that readily talk of their orifices and secretions....

PS. Have I told you that crazy Pete actually followed me to Houston? He did. We went out for drinks with him one night, but I had to draw the line when he pleaded for our attendance at some fancy dress party in which he dressed in a negligee and garter belt.... I run into him every once in a while and am reminded what a small and freaky world this really is.