Social Driving

First off, let me apologise to my regular readers for leaving you bereft of my wisdom and experience for the last few days. I've been unconscious. It seems that sometime after posting on Friday, all the tryptifan from the vodka I drank on Thanksgiving kicked in, and I was on Planet Tallulah until this morning. Nothing a little defribillation couldn't fix. I'm back now, and you've got me.

I saw on the news today that Tracy Morgan, the tinted comedian who stars on Studio 30 Rock From the Sun on one of the TV networks, and whom I don't believe has ever thrown me one despite my adoration of dynamic tinted lovewands, was arrested for drunk driving. Notwithstanding my long history of social drinking (I am strictly a Social Drinker, and I believe that just because you're alone, that's no reason to be anti-social. I'm not an alcoholic darlings, I'm a socialist!), and my checkered history with The Law, particularly My Trial (See Chapter 22, My Kampf, of my autobiography, My Lush Life .), I have never been arrested for drunk driving, and poor little Tracy needs to adopt my special solution to this Social Pitfall.

It's all summed up in one word: Chauffeur. Tracy darling, you're supposed to be a STAR. Stars never drive themselves anywhere! Nobodies and non-entities drive themselves. I have never, and will never drive myself anywhere but crazy. I don't even have a drivers license. All I have is an Artistic License, and it's been suspended. When people see you driving yourself, they can only leap to one conclusion: Your career is over, and you're no longer a star at all. "Look," they'll say, "There's Tracy Morgan driving himself. Who knew he'd become a nonentity like us?" Next thing you know, you'll be pointing at yourself in mirrors, and saying, "Look, there's former star, current nobody, Tracy Morgan." and asking yourself for autographs! You think I'm kidding? I have a drawer full of 8x10s of myself, signed "To my biggest fan, Tallulah Morehead. Stay Social. Cheers, Tallulah Morehead."

So don't give up drinking; don't go into rehab. (Evil! Rehab is Evil! Rehab is just a way of avoiding dealing with anti-Semitism.) Just give up driving, and hire a chauffeur for Heaven's sake. Michael Richards can drive, and he's probably looking for work. Just think how tinted folk everywhere would cheer hearing you telling him to "Honk the horn, Honky."

Because I am worried for your very life! I am! You're a network TV star and you've been arrested for drunk driving. We all know what this means:

You're about to die, on LOST!

Cheers darlings.