I never, ever have had a problem finding parking in Los Angeles.  I'm generally quite reserved, so wherever I go in the city I see all those parking spaces marked "Reserved," I just pull right in.

Christmas was over, the gifts unwrapped, needle-shedding trees relegated to the curb, I'd already knocked out this week's column (so I thought), and the best surprise was yet to come. 

California has halted death by lethal injection for being inhumane, but there are many alternate forms of inhumane treatment still available—one of them is Aunt Dottie’s annual Yuletide letters from Radiation Springs, Ohio.

Livin' Large is a mandate in our consumer-frenzied, sybaritic culture, meanwhile the reduced square footage of my new pad has necessitated livin' small.  The first object in my crosshairs was that darn refrigerator. 

Have you ever wondered, what would happen if an actor plumped up for a role and then later couldn't shed those wanted (for theatrical purposes) pounds?  Last week's column left me in just that dilemma, 30 pounds overweight, after fattening up to play a movie role.

Have you lost so much weight you leave certain old garments unworn to avoid having them drop around your ankles at an inopportune moment?  Do people reluctantly ask if you lost weight on purpose, or was it disease?  If you answered yes to either of these questions, then you may want to consider going on the original Grady Diet.

I owe Lindsay Lohan big time.  When I went back to the rental car agency she inspired me to dismiss the dent on the fender of the rented PT Cruiser in a single word: "Paparrazi!"  That explains everything away from binges to fender-benders.  Ain't life fun in the fishbowl!

A great rag of Gotham once vowed only news that's fit to print.  Now, it's any news that fits.  And if toes get stepped on or facts mangled along the way, there's plenty space for apologies.

Many a sojourner to West Hollywood reaches the point of feeling they have "had enough."  Yet no sooner do they obey the stirring to head back east, than they will recognize a few precious things left behind that they could never have enough of.

People who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones.  But people with boarded-up windows can throw as many stones as they like.

Her name is Paulie Rojas and she is ready to take on Hollywood no matter the challenge.  She speaks out frankly and honestly about the path taken to land her first starring role in a film.  It's obvious that she is special -- she's an actress who knows where she is heading.

In West Hollywood luminaries live anonymously among us, and not until their obituary appears does one realize that the greatest living poet from Latvia resided across the hall, or the blacklisted screenwriter lived on the other side of the fence.

In the final chapter of "The $10,000 Pooch," the hopes of cashing in on a reward are exquisitely poised against fears of being exposed as purveyors of a phony hound.

College drop-outs, Norman and Valeria dyed for their financial-aid sins and changed the color of their shih tzu to collect a fabulous reward for a long-lost dog.  In this, the third chapter, their scheme is put to the ultimate test.

In part one, Norman and Valeria, two college drop-outs were being strong-armed by Mr. Big to pay back student loans, or else.  After they see a reward poster for an adored and long-missing dog, they have an epiphany.