All apologies to the pilgrims.
Twelve-Year-Old Boy Hot Line
Those twelve-year-old boys have got it pretty damn easy: chasing bullfrogs down at the creek, stealing apple pies from neighborhood windowsills and playing tickle-fight until the wee hours of the morning with Michael Jackson. Sweet! But seriously, 12-year-old boys get this week's Hot Line because with Jacko back in town, every parent in Santa Barbara will lock their Billys and Tylers up tight. Twenty-four-hour curfew ain't fun. But to the twelve-year-old girls of Santa Barbara: Enjoy the baseball diamond. This weekend belongs to you.
Drink of the Week: Hi-C Screwdriver
"Honest, Your Honor!"
- 3 oz. vodka
- Pour vodka into a cocktail glass and fill it with Hi-C. Make like Michael Jackson and taint something childlike and innocent with the vices of the adult world.
Michael Jackson's probable explanations for lurking around the Boy Scout Jamboree:
- "I was looking for my nose."
- "They kicked me off the Little League field."
- "I teach the Boy Scouts a knot-tying class."
- "I was ... umm... well, see... umm... hey! Remember 'Thriller'?"
- "Jamboree? Oh, I thought they said 'tambourine!'"
- "I was returning all these old Boy Scout uniforms I had sitting in my basement."
- "I was burying the Elephant Man's bones."
- "I wanted to go where I didn't have the highest voice."
- "Well, I was moonwalking and I just ended up here. Hey! Remember 'Thriller'?