Yeah, listen: While you were proving once and for all that pretty girls do not in fact need to be funny, I went ahead and took a look at your little rock star’s chart.

Come on, the only reason Kelso wanted you at that dinner is because he knows standing next to a pretty doctor will get his picture in all the medical journals. Assuming his image actually shows up in photographs.

Well, now, you are looking slim. Are those new scrubs? Or is it the fact you no longer have a soul?

Never stop peddling, Annie. You are a soO-in for the Little Girl X-Games.

Look, I like you…so here’s some advice: Never, ever do anything with Bob Kelso. Don’t talk to him, don’t look at him, don’t even associate with guys his age on the outside chance that they just shared a steam together in that never ending Klan meeting that they call a country club”; right? He is…pure […]

Not so fast, there, Bob. You forgot to affix the warning label to your forehead. You know, the one that reads Exposure to Bob Kelso can be hazardous to your health” thus affording the reader a fighting chance to escape the waste and contamination that is…Bob Kelso.”

You don’t have to know what he’s sayin’ — none of us do.

Who said who to what now?

Now, I know you say you love us all equally. But you don’t, do ya. I’m onto you, Big Man!

Here’s a story: It’s called The Security Guard Who Was Sodomized With His Own Nightstick.