Greetings web nerds and those who live in their parents' basements!

I was asked to continue Neal's column as he left the United States early Monday morning on a top-secret mission to a newer third world country we as Americans are hell-bent on bombing in the next few months. No, not Iraq. Not even Afghanistan. This place is dustier, more arid and filled with even deadlier scorpions and dancing snakes.

So maybe you're asking why I, Lizz Westman, have been chosen to take Neal Pollack's place. Well, I first met Neal on a train going from Kansas City to Las Vegas at 67 miles an hour, with X amount of time left to travel and Y amount of distance already covered. Eventually, and thanks to the misrouting of another train traveling the opposite route from Vegas to Kansas City, we had time to discuss our love for poems written from a vegan, feminist midwife perspective. We shared a soy latte and exchanged Ani bootlegs. He then asked me for a few grand to pay off some gambling debts. I said no but offered my services as a substitute blogger if he ever made it to rehab or out on another writing mission.

And here we are.

So maybe you want to know a little more about me – my dreams, favorite color, favorite Corey, geographic coordinates and personal reaction in regards to September 11th (2002 to be clever), college major, this year's Halloween costume and generally how it feels to be the new “it” girl around town - eat your heart out Clara Bow!

Yes, yes my web children. All in due time, especially a more suitable time when I'm not so drunk. Tired. I mean tired. When I'm not so tired.

(Originally published November 2, 2002)

I was planning to run for Congress this year, specifically as a member of the House. I had been planning my political takeover since 4th grade – when I started watching Meet the Press on Sunday mornings.

I had timely campaign slogans playing on my unemployment and immense desire to move back to the east coast:

VOTE WESTMAN AND LET YOUR TAXES PAY HER RENT!

CAST YOUR BALLOT FOR LIZZ OR YOU'RE NEXT CHICAGO! -the terrorists

VOTE FOR ME! I'M UNEMPLOYED AND HAVE LITTLE ELSE TO DO!

EXCLAMATIONS SHOW ENTHUSIAM!! I LIKE CAKE!

I would make no claims, gestures, speeches, platforms or promises. In fact, my whole campaign was to exclusively bash and slander every opponent until they all dropped out of the race in humiliating epics of failure. Or at least watch them deny my lies and rumors in ridiculous campaign ads...

"There are currently rumors circulating that I enjoy eating babies. I have not, for the record, ever eaten a human child nor do I intend to." -Joe Congressman -- loves babies, but not for dinner.

"My opponents have claimed that I run a small cartel to pay for my 2002 congressional campaign. I assure you these are unfounded and unsubstantiated lies. I've never even been to Columbia, let alone with a band of renegade soldiers, mules and a large selection of hollowed out shoes!" -Joe Congressman -- loves hugs, not drugs. (Except prescription drugs for the elderly. And only short hugs with limited touching to clean, healthy voters. Or no touching at all.)

Anyway, I think that it might be too late to try for the world of fat cats and slutty interns. Or fat interns and slutty cats. Lesson learned? Heed the deadline set for weirdo third party candidates and bored, unemployed twentysomethings.

Unless you live in the Chicago area and want to write me in for the House of Representatives. I'll take any district. But remember -- I'm only in it for the kickbacks and free money.

LIZZ WESTMAN FOR CONGRESS!!!!

(Originally published November 5, 2002)

I know all of you were wondering where I, Lizz Westman, had disappeared off to in the past couple days. After Tuesday's humiliating defeat, I needed time to rest up and call with my concession to the winner...

Winner: "Hello?"

Me: "Hi. I just wanted to tell you congratulations on your re-elected post as the Illinois congressperson."

Winner: "Who is this?"

Me: "Lizz Westman, write-in candidate. I stand for all the tough issues."

Winner: "Who?"

Me: "Your opponent. Your write-in opponent. I just wanted to tell you I'm conceding the race."

Winner: "It's Thursday."

Me: "I needed time to accept that I wasn't moving to Washington. Say, you need help moving stuff or driving a truck?"

Winner: "How did you get this number?"

Click.

So, I'm off to the Chicago protests. Down with capitalism! Down with capitalism! Down with... "ooh the Gap is having a sale!" -- What can I say? I grew up in the suburbs.

(Originally published November 8, 2008 )

Well, all, I'm back. And with a vengeance. Not unlike the Terminator or the fat kid at high school reunion. (Fortunately for me I was always pretty and bitchy and loved.)

Did you miss me web children? I bet! Because if there's one thing you can't get enough of it's LIZZ FUCKING WESTMAN.

And now it's Christmas. Or the HOLIDAY SEASON for all you heretics and heathens. I spent my Festivus (that's December 23rd for you TV impaired) at the DMV trying to get a new license. [Insert proper stand up comedy jokes here.]

But that's not the real issue. I'm already in trouble and it isn't even Christmas Eve.

Why?

1. I spelled the totally legal, "Scrabble Dictionary" word QAT when playing Scrabble (obviously) with my parents. See also: XI, XU.

2. I put Maker's Mark on the family grocery list, claiming it was "sipping whiskey" and therefore "classy."

3. I made everyone watch Charmed during dinner and attempted to steal my brother's dinner, claiming I hadn't eaten palatable meat in months. He, nor my parents, were amused.

4. I refused to acknowledge holiday specials created by USA, TNT or VH1 and insisted everyone should watch Bravo's showing of Harold and Maude. Classic and interesting? Yes. Festive? Only to me.

Well, that's it for now. I need to go drink nog now. And by nog I mean booze.

Love, Lizz

(Originally published December 24, 2002)