I feel so violated...but not in a good way.

Someone broke into my apartment and took some of my stuff. Not much, as far as I can tell. It seems like they were only interested in money, jewelry and checks. So they took my checkbook and my big Coke bottle bank filled with pennies. They stole jewelry from the woman across the hall so thatís how I know that was on their shopping list. Apparently they didnít see much value in my new wave button collection or Wings Over American belt buckle.

Yeah, my checkbook...thatís kinda scary. So I immediately called my bank and reported the theft. They in turn withdrew all the money from my account and hid it under a mattress until I could come in and set up a new account. I also called up and reported my Visa card stolen even though I had the card with me at the time. I just wanted to play it safe in case they copied the number off one of the bills piled up on my desk. Or maybe it was the pile of bills that scared them off. "This guy doesnít have any money," they mustíve thought as they lugged the penny bank out the door and down the stairs to their getaway car. And theyíre probably pissed that they have to roll those suckers before they can cash them in.

The police told me Iíd probably been better off if the crooks did take some credit cards and other pertinent information such as my social security number. "That way they could steal your identity," reasoned one officer, "and we could catch them when they tried to give it back."

One of the first questions the police asked was if there was anyone I knew who held a grudge against me, like an ex-girlfriend. No, that was too risky for them, I thought. After all, if they got caught, theyíd have to admit they went out with me.

Anyway, as the paranoia kicks in (Will they be back? Did they find my Adult Check ID number?), letís move on to the other import issues of the day...

"Friends" will return for one more season on NBC after producers agreed to pay each member of the ensemble cast a million dollars per show. Ironically, thatís the same amount of money Iím asking to watch an entire episode of ABCís "According to Jim."

Meanwhile producers are denying rumors that this season of "Friends" was going to end with Rachel dying at child birth. Címon, this is supposed to be a comedy show! Having a popular main character die giving birth would be in bad taste. Ross and Phoebe getting killed in a horrible car wreck - now, that would be funny.

Seen on a recent cover of People Magazine: Greta Van Susteren "Why I Got Plastic Surgery!" Uh, because you were butt ugly? (And still are, but now in a creepy sort of way.)

On February 14th in New Delhi gangs of Hindu Nationalists accosted couples holding hands, burned Valentine greeting cards and blocked the entrances to gift shops and restaurants. In other words, they pretty much celebrated Valentineís Day the way I do every year.

Sylvester Stallone is suing his former business manager for giving him bad advice. Right grounds, wrong guy. Sue your agent, Rambo, and you might just get the biggest settlement in legal history. (Closing argument: A courtroom screening of "Stop, Or My Mom Will Shoot!")

Chinese teenagers are now digging hip-hop music. Chinese kids rapping. Thatís gotta be either the most hysterical or most frightening sound youíll ever hear.

Pakistan officials say they wonít release the tape of reporter Daniel Pearl being murdered because it is too gruesome for public release. Yes, a commendable exercise in good taste if you ask me or any other decent thinking human being. Weíre just lucky the tape didnít fall into the hands of some ratings hungry network reporter who might try to justify its airing on national television. The people have the right to see it? Bite my ass. Then again, maybe since this heinous act was carried out against one of their own, American journalists might think twice before they put ratings ahead of common decency. Donít hold your breath.

I might have to rethink my position on rooting against the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. Sure, theyíre bastards for firing Tony Dungy and negotiating with Bill Parcels behind their coachís back. But now theyíve hired a head coach who left a winning team because he didnít want to work for Al Davis. Youíve got to admire a man with good solid principles.

Lance Bass of *N Sync is negotiating to travel into outer space on a Russian rocket during a mission in November. Have you seen Lance Bass? Isnít he already in outer space?

Well, thatís about it for now. Iíve got to go downtown and find out what the word on the street is from Huggy Bear. Maybe heís heard something about some guys passing bad checks or paying for their drugs with pennies. I just hope snitches take I.O.U.ís. Iím down to my last ten bucks and my new bank account wonít be activated until later in the week. Ainít life a bitch.