Generally, Chef Gordon Ramsay keeps busy doing one of two things: screaming at buffoonish would-be chefs, or turning around restaurants filled with buffoonish actual chefs. Which tends to also involve a lot of screaming.

But he's generally dead-on in his critiques so those stupid donkeys can take one of their undercooked, over-seasoned and most likely poisonous main courses and shove it up their respective pieholes. Or anyplace else the sun don't shine.

And, yes, you would be correct in assuming that I have gotten food poisoning before. At a restaurant much like the dirty-kitchen-filled-with-frozen-food-AND-overpriced holes featured on Kitchen Nightmares. BEFORE Chef Ramsay saved the day, or at least a few customers from a similar fate.

Now speaking of dead-on, check out these two commercials which feature a 9-year old actor who does a hilarious impression of Little Gordon.

And the second video finds Little Gordon dining with his parents at a crappy restaurant. Or trying to at least.

See also Mooby Jack.

At least that's what the drag queens were telling me last night.

Yes, drag queens in New York City. Shocking, I know.

About seven alleged ladies were smoking outside a gay bar in New York's Lower East Side when yours truly passed by. Not sure if it was my sexy, uh, tan shirt or my equally sexy blue Levis, but these ladies immediately started a'hooting and a'hollering.

European drag queens generally shave their faces if not their armpits.

And, no, they would not be classified as "passable" or "giving a shit." I mean, damn, at least shave before you hit the town, ladies. And tuck 'em back! I thought a no-bulge policy was standard on fake chicks. Take some pride like your heroine, RuPaul.

RuPaul: the proudest drag queen of all with BFF Brad Garrett.

The loudest of said chicks bore a very strong resemblance to Chastity Bono, more recently known as "Chaz" after Sonny and Cher's kid started getting injected with testosterone. This is to say she had very short hair, no makeup and the body of a potato.

Cher and former daughter Chastity Bono in less confusing times.

Actually she looked like Chastity, too, not just Chaz. Homedude definitely got her looks from her daddy. Her mommy Cher was one hot piece of ace. Or at least she was 10-15 plastic surgeries ago. It's tough to keep up.

Speaking of chicks with dicks, it may shock you to know that I used to get accosted regularly by D.C. drag queens when I lived in Washington's Logan Circle neighborhood.

If you're not from the District of Columbia, Logan Circle is not far away, geographically, from the downtown business area AND the White House. This is a way of saying it is one of those neighborhoods "on the rise," according to real estate people and others trying to remove dollars from your wallet.

What this really means is that you will see crack addicts, crackwhores and their business associates -- aka drug dealers and pimps -- on a regular basis. But there will be some white people around AND there are worse neighborhoods AND you're within walking distance of lots of good bars SO what the hell, quit your whining AND enjoy the enhanced opportunities to get drunk AND get laid AND/OR meet lots of hookers.

Now, right out of college, I actually wore a suit every day to work. And combine the business attire with my innocent baby-face and it was little wonder that tranny hookers were drawn to me like Eddie Murphy to bad career decisions. Or tranny hookers.

Something about me must scream "he so horny" or "poor eyesight." At least that's what I tell myself.

So on my early morning walks to work I frequently found myself saying "no" to rather large, broad-shouldered transvestites who offered to "show me a good time" and "relax me."

Inevitably I responded with "Uh, no thanks, dude."

Tranny hookers trying to "gets paid."

Okay, I did not say "dude." I would have said "dude" but for the fear of getting beaten down by one of these linebackers in tight pink, aqua and yellow skin-tight dresses.

It's pretty unlikely my health insurance would have covered the years of psychological therapy such a beatdown would require. If I had insurance.

Once you hit a certain station in life, in my case, the bus station, you are forced to face certain incontrovertible facts of life. Or continue deluding yourself.

I choose the latter.

For example, below is my inner monologue, to the best of my recollection, which occurred mere minutes ago.

I'm going to New York City, baby!

Yes, I sometimes call myself "baby"

When I'm talking to myself

Not out loud

Okay, sometimes out loud

And damn it, I don't mind taking the bus!

It's not that bad

It could be worse

This gives me more time to READ and experience NEW things!

And smells

For five-plus hours

Stuck in uncomfortable, awkward positions

For anyone over 5 feet tall

I'm 6'2"

In socks

And unskilled in the contortionist arts

But at least I have a book

Which I'll finish the first hour

But the bus has wireless Internet

And I have a yellow note...pad

And pens which keep going dry

At least we'll stop at Burger King

But I stopped eating fast food 93 hours ago

It's New York City!

Maybe I'll get some sleep on the way

If I'm lucky

Unlike last time

And every other time I've taken the bus

D'oh!

So what does this inner monologue mean, besides a long-ass bus ride for me to New York City and a disturbing inside look into a man finding a way to whine about what will surely be an amazing visit to the greatest city in the world?

Uh, hmmm, okay, there has to be something to be learned here. Not about life. That would be too easy and largely useless. Instead I'd like to share some lessons I've learned from years spent taking one last trip on a bus.

This hot chick did not drive my bus. Or yours.

So here's my advice for YOUR next bus trip, if you ever find yourself in a downward spiral, which seems almost certain given the state of the economy, and recent studies correlating financial success with the blogs we read.

1. It's all about preparation. Bring a pillow, a couple drinks -- sodas, water, vodka, preferably all three -- and a novel, preferably a page-turner that requires as little thinking, if any, as possible.

2. Get there early and hustle for an aisle seat. This is crucial. Don't hesitate or feel even slightly guilty or you will be screwed for many hours to come.

3. Immediately spread out over both seats. Throw all your junk on the window seat AND stretch yourself out as widely, awkwardly and annoyingly as humanly possible.

4. Pretend to sleep. Snore if you have to. This is the secret weapon that will upgrade your trip to first class, baby.

5. Hope for the best. Cross your fingers. I ain't gonna lie. The odds are stacked against you. But this plan has worked for me in the past. It's your only hope.

In conclusion, despite the indignities and discomfort of bus transporation, New York is my favorite city to visit and, when not if I get my shit together -- hey, sue me, I'm giving optimism a try -- the place I want to live. I'll report back on whatever crazy shit happens while I'm in the Big Apple.

And if things work out my way, and I am due, okay, overdue, then yours truly will be getting lots of stage time in the very near future. Wish me luck. Or better yet, buy me a drink. Living this large ain't cheap.

Paris Hilton sucks on something. And has a brainstorm! This is HUGE.

In fact, Paris Hilton recently pimped her HUGE movement on The Jimmy Kimmell Show. Notice Paris Hilton's sophisticated discussion of "brands" and HUGENESS.

For anyone who doubts Paris Hilton's shrewdly calculated crazy cool sexiness, be sure to watch her video debut from a few years ago: One Night in Paris. Until her sex tape came out, Paris Hilton was even less famous than Kim Kardashian was before HER sex tape came out. And that was not HUGE.

One Night in Paris is not hot.

Despite being so HAWT, Paris Hilton was surprisingly lifeless in her sex tape debut. Like a mannequin with slightly faker boobs. In fact, it's been said, by me, that I have seen love dolls with more energy in the sack. And not even the high-class fancy ones you got to send away for.

Will Ferrell made the right choice. Sorry, Paris Hilton.

According to Hollywood lore, even famed octogenarian actress Betty White is more fun between the sheets than Paris Hilton.

You looking for a good time, sailor?

And maybe even Bea Arthur.

Actress Bea Arthur was better at everything than Paris Hilton.

And, yes, I know the Golden Girl's current status.

Paris Hilton's strategy to profit off HUGE has been to repeat it endlessly to her legions of followers on Twitter.

Sadly Paris Hilton's HUGENESS appears to be the gift that will keep on giving.

One day after Paris you'll wake up with a HUGE surprise.

So be careful, people. Your next moment of HUGE could cost you big bucks. And if anyone knows how to make some scratch off of absolutely nothing, it is Paris Hilton.

I love 'em, you love 'em, we all love 'em; whether you got 'em yourself, admire them from afar or occasionally even grab hold of 'em for yourself.

Below are my 10 favorite words for breasts, including a shocking 10th place finisher.

1. Boobs Well, clearly this one is somewhat predictable. But let us not turn our noses up at this longtime fan favorite. Much like boobs themselves, the word "boob" is one that everyone can, does and, well, should all use proudly in all manner of social occasions, from beach parties and beer bashes to weddings and funerals. Boobs was the logical choice for #1.

These are the first-ever groupie boob photos sent to yours truly.

2. Titties Now titties is likely a far more controversial choice. For quite personal reasons, which I shall never share, I have never been a big fan of the word "tits," much less "titties." Okay, what the hell, here's why: an ex-girlfriend once told a mutual friend that I had "put my mouth on her tits." For weeks after this disclosure I was constantly asked by friends, "So dude, where's your mouth?" And then they'd grab their chest and, oh yes, some would even squeeze their nipples. Now as you may have guessed, she was indeed in high school*. Which was legal in that particular state. Overall though, I must place "titties" in the #2 slot due to its popularity with everyone else. *Me too.

Paris Hilton has decent titties. She does not have a great rack.

3. Jugs The word "jugs" just sounds funny. And this, too, is a PG word so it allows one and all, but me especially, to make boob jokes when I'm hanging out with family members at reunions or wakes and such.

The bartender on the left told me her jugs were real. I believe her.

4. Hooters I have been to 11 different Hooters in five different states and the District of Columbia. And the girls really liked me each and every time and they would even squeeze 'em together when they brought the drinks and wings over. Yes, I am just that special.

Hooters, wings and beer, oh my.

5. Sideboobs Really, it's "sideboob," but call me elitist, it just sounds odd classifying a whole type of boob without adding an "S" at the end.

Much like Lindsay Lohan, boobs often look better from the side.

6. Rack This is often followed by "of lamb" or "of boobs" but it seems unnecessary in this instance. Rack is another family-friendly word that allows for cheap puns useful for making jokes around people who don't have all their mental faculties or to whom English is a second language.

Much like "skank," Pamela Anderson owns the copyright on "rack."

7. Melons Melons are a popular fruit in many cultures. They're round and juicy. And, yes, it is quite possible that I am paraphrasing or downright plagiarizing the words of the great philosopher, Meatloaf.

I have a newfound respect for India. One billion melons cannot be wrong.

8. Milkers While less well-known than the other terms on this list, "milkers" is, in fact, more biologically accurate and one likely used by scientists, biologists and farmhands the world over. As they'd say in Canada, "Milkers do the body good, eh?"

Dolly Parton's milkers are miraculously holding up quite well at age 63.

9. Bodacious Tatas Granted, this is two words, not one. However, the judge deemed an exception was in order given its instant memorability and aptness for describing particularly sassy, party-loving boobs. We have all been there or done that. And, if not, that is just wrong and should be fixed by our government, your buddies or someone legal post haste.

This is perhaps the most creative self-boob portrait in modern history.

And last but not least...

10. Moobs Ah, yes, I would hate for anyone to ever consider me a "sexist pig," a "dirty bastard," or a "chauvinist douchebag." Because that would not help me since my fanbase is apparently 70 percent female -- yes, I kid you not; hence, this one is for the ladies! Moobs, for those not paying attention to pop culture or William Shatner for the past 10 years -- okay, Shatner for 30 -- are man-boobs. They don't have to jiggle, but that sure helps, it seems. Many celebrities sport man-boobs, as seen below. Enjoy ladies and, well, who loves ya, baby?

The ladies love Jack Nicholson. And his Oscar-winning moobs.