hursday's meeting of the minds between the ten prominent candidates for the Democratic presidential nomination at Manhattan's Pace University may not have provided a clear front-runner, but it did haul in a net full of fresh catchphrases. All candidates involved tried to sum up the complicated problems of the U.S. and international affairs into humorous phrases or puns, jabbing incessantly at each other's records and universally condemning President Bush as a major jerkoff.

The lead attraction for the afternoon, besides the boyish good looks of Sen. John Edwards, was the debut of retired Army Gen. Wesley Clark. The former NATO commander lobbed the first polite volley of the day with his backhanded compliment in opening remarks: "I'm happy to join such an esteemed group of Democratic colleagues. I can't believe you're all trailing Bush in the polls."

Clark also dealt one of the earliest catchphrases in the debate in slamming the Bush administration. "We elected a president we thought was a compassionate conservative. Instead, we got neither conservatism or compassion." A solid good start to political soundbytes, though Clark erred in claiming Bush had been elected.

Pace University Political Science professor Ingrid Northam explained the importance of a political catchphrase in an election, to sum up the heart of one's platform to Americans surfing the TV and too busy to actually seek information on candidates. But more importantly, for a field of Democrats all failing to stimulate voter interest, catchphrases can be a make-or-break way of establishing a personality the voters can appreciate. It allows them to differentiate between candidates, and the right catchphrase could put a failing candidacy right back on track. It was extremely interesting stuff and well-spoken, and this reporter regrets not having written any of it down.

After initial platforms were summarized, the catchphrase cannonade really began. Massachusetts Sen. John Kerry knocked Bush tax cuts, claiming, "President Bush calls cutting taxes for the richest Americans, 'tax relief.' Well, you know how I spell relief, Mr. President? J-O-B-S." The audience hooted and hollered as if free beer were served, and afterward nothing could stem the flow of nifty slogans.

Rep. Dick Gephardt's strategy was to attack frontrunner Howard Dean. "Dean called Medicare the 'worst Federal program ever.' He sided with Newt Gingrich on a $270 billion cut in Medicare. Governor, for a man with the name Dean, you got no class."

Dean angrily retorted, "What kind of name is Gephardt? The dumb kind, you ask me." But most irksome to the major contender was the comparison to Newt Gingrich, which Dean vehemently denied, saying, "Nobody up here deserves to be compared to Newt Gingrich." the commune contacted Newt Gingrich for a response, but upon being told he was Newt Gingrich the former Speaker of the House flew into a rage and threatened to sue us if we printed such slander.

The debate proved most successful for those already leading the pack, analysts said. Trailing candidates failed to make much headway, and some contribute it to coming to the debate ill-prepared for catchphrases. Sen. John Edwards declared, "I keep coming back like the clap," to no effect on the audience. Carol Mosley Braun failed to gain much ground with her new slogan, "Who am I? Let's find out together!" However, Al Sharpton reportedly managed to add a few points to his demographics with the rattling shout of, "Who's up for ribs?" It was newcomer Clark, however, who made the most initial impact from his first debate appearance, closing his part in the debate, "Tanks for your nomination."

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My life was a horribly small, dark, petty place, let me tell you. I was a shell of a man—worse than a shell, I was a magic shell, hardened by the cold ice cream of the world, and quite delicious, filled with nuts. I forgot what I was saying. Oh, yeah—my life was pointless and full of tragedy. That was before I met Melinda. And after I met Melinda, too.

Melinda was my girlfriend. What a day that was. Everyone said she was just using me to make her boyfriend nauseous, but I don't believe them. She was pretty mad when she said it, too, so I don't believe her either. I met her, both of them, actually, when I was working as a safety bar for an amusement park roller coaster. It was tough, but I got to ride for free all the time. Now who's the jerk, Mr. Big and Mighty Safety Inspector? I didn't see you ride one of the rides while you were closing the place down.

But in them halogen days, when I first caught a sniff of Melinda's perfume, I knew she would one day be my girlfriend. And then break up with me later that day—trust me, I know my luck by now. Doesn't mean I give up on love. I fell for Melinda hard, right off the top of the roller coaster, and she was the only one who came to see if I was alright. When she had safely removed all the money and metallic items from my pockets, she called for an ambulance. But I got up and skipped out before that, I ain't paying for no ride when you can sneak into a tire well and ride free. Before I left, though, I let Melinda know I was keen on her with an obscene gesture, and told her I'd be around the fair—I had no place to live, so I had to keep walking so as not to get busted.

Fate intervened later because I was picking up shells at the fair's shooting range (not much pay, but it tightens your reflexes for being shot at) I saw her fighting with her boyfriend two stands down, at the ring toss. I took a break and decided to hang close by, hoping I could nuzzle up close to her and leave my scent—my flirting skills ain't all that, maybe, but you always can tell when I like a woman. Then she surprised me, because she grabbed me by the head and gave me a big kiss. It was a shock, believe you me. I'll always remember what she said—"If you're not serious about setting a date, then maybe I'll just marry any retard that comes along!" It cracked me up. I love it when someone says "retard."

But it was not to be. Her boyfriend apologized immediately and they went out to get shitfaced, at least that's what I overheard. Still, I'll always have the memories. And her purse. She didn't notice that. I didn't want the money, of course, just the souvenir of my fiery Parisian romance. At least I think it was Paris. It could have been Austin. All Texas looks alike after awhile.

Valentine's Day rules. One of these days I'm going to spend it with someone who willingly spends it with me.

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I've been wicked lucky lately. Sorry if the column hasn't been regular enough for you, Child Star fans, but I've been working—the big "W." It does start with a W, right, it's not like a silent P? Those fucking French can really mess up the English language.

But I have been working, no matter how you spell it. Not all of it's great stuff. I sexed chickens for a while at a KFC-owned chicken house, that's interesting for about an hour, unless you really, really like chickens. I guessed on about half of them, but if we're going to eat them anyway I don't see why we need to know if it's a rooster or hen. It's not like you ever eat some chicken and say, "Tastes like a cock!" or anything. Well, I said that once, but it wasn't the same situation at all. That's why I'm not welcome at Denny's anymore.

That gig was only temporary while I lined up showbiz jobs—you know, paying off the legal bills and stuff. I modeled some, did a bulletproof bra commercial for a The Survivalists Network and worked as a stunt head in an Excedrin commercial. I would have had the lead, but they didn't like my liberal use of the word "mindfucked." I also filled in at a book store when author Kitty Kelley had to cancel a signing at the last minute, but I'm not supposed to tell anyone about that. Her picture's right on the back of the book, everybody had to know they were being fucked with, but it was cool, everybody just sort of kept the fantasy going.

Then I lucked into the pilot, which is my big news. Not that it will necessarily go to series, I've been burnt way too often to get my hopes up on that one, but it could happen. I went into the audition to deliver pizzas to the casting agency, and figured while I was there I would knock the out. The whole pizza gig was just a drug delivery front anyway, so I didn't even risk losing a real job.

And they loved me, no other way to say it. I didn't even list Who's Your Daddy? on my resume, it seems like I have a better shot at getting cast when I do that. They didn't recognize me either, so I got this one purely on talent, and maybe some of that free stuff I passed out before the audition. But they said I really knew the role, 'cause I faked it so well, and called me back a couple of times. Then I was cast.

It's called Ho's!, and it's being considered as a mid-season replacement for the WB. Just one of those excellent ideas. I've been in the business long enough to know gold when I hear it. There's the rich, snobby ho, the fat ho, the dumb ho, and the white ho—that's me. They were going to go with an Asian ho, but I didn't do a very believable accent, they said. They also have an old ho, and they were trying to get Della Reese, but they're going with an unknown instead because Reese called the script "insulting and degrading." I think she was just holding out for more money, though.

Seriously, the show will rock. It's about the four ho's and the pimp they work for, played by David Faustino. And the old ho rents the building to us. But we have arguments and funny disagreements and shit. Still, in the end, we always learn that we have to stick together, or we'll get turned out. I used to ask all the time why there weren't any shows about ho's, and my tutors could never say why. I think it's an idea whose time has come, and I'm psyched to be a part of it. Like I said, I'm not getting my hopes up—networks never have any real vision. But if the WB shoots us down, maybe we can take it to HBO. It would be like a funny Oz there. Funnier.

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