I'm Your Huckleberry

I'm not often told that I resemble a celebrity, but when I do hear it, I usually don't understand it.

Eons ago when I had (long) hair,  I got the occasional comparison to Stevie Ray Vaughn, probably because we both have wide noses and play guitar. And except for the fact that he did lots of drugs and women--and could play circles around me even if I severed one of his arms--I guess the two of us bear a resemblance.

And once, as I was getting off the light-rail in D.C. several years ago, a male passenger stopped me and asked me if I was Brad Pitt.

I'm pretty sure he was a crackhead, so that doesn't count.

It's also been said I take after Peyton Manning ... you know, if he were a lot shorter, scrawnier, poorer and didn't have an NFL ring.

And then there were the comparisons last year to "American Idol" reject Chris Daughtry, or "Daughtry," as he is now known. But let's be honest, folks. The only reason anybody ever said I looked like him was because we both shave our heads. He's way out of my league.

But I got a new one this weekend: Val Kilmer.

That's right.

Which begs the question: Are we talking about the old, badass Val Kilmer? The Iceman? Doc Holiday? Madmartigan?

'Cause that's kinda hot.

Or are we talking about today's Val Kilmer? The one who's so drugged out and bloated he looks pregnant?

'Cause I'd resent that.

Original MySpace post: 4/10/2007

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