Oxygen mask, please!

One of my favorite partners in party crime, Mr. Van Wylder, thought I needed to be grounded.

"KAC! It's time to stop FLYing and come back to Earth, where the real people live," he said just a few hours after stepping off the jet.



"Real people? You mean beer drinkers? Ergh!" That did sound like punishment.

I really didn't wanna leave the mile-high protection of Plastic Land, but I got my camo on, pulled on some boots (pedi protection!) and took off on the D.C. Dive Bar Tour: Destination - Chief Ike's Mambo Room.



As I cleaned off the old, crusty bar stool with one of my emergency Wet-Nap towelettes and ordered a drink, I really did feel as if I'd jumped outta 1st class sans parachute and landed right, smack-dab in a urine-soaked puke pit run by the devil.



Thank God for Napoleon -- within screaming distance of Chief Ikes. The bartenders there nursed us back to our reality (OK, well, me).



They people are really nice at Napoleon. They clean their basement - and stock it with champagne!



So unless you're big and strong like a Gold Cup Navy Seal parajumper (they drink beer, I've seen them do it), you might wanna skip that Ike-y icky Adams Morgan hub.



Apparently, it's where the anti-posh have landed.



Chief Ike's Mambo Room: Not for germophobes outta Purell, docs lacking latex, pilots sans O2 masks or plastic girls in Prada. And nothing like a pow pow!

Ladies: Thank bejeezus you're not Friday

Who names their bouncing baby girl Friday, anyway? Nobody.

If parents did, their poor teen-aged daughters would be living one hell of a high school nightmare. I can hear the jokes echoing through the steel locker-laden hallways as I type ...

"Thank God It's Friday!"
"Yo, Girl Friday! Bring me some coffee!"
"So where'd he take you on your date ... TGIFriday's?! Ha, ha, ha!"

Who created this God-awful name?

It's actually a variation on Man Friday, which was one of the main characters of Daniel Defoe's novel Robinson Crusoe. The name later become an expression used to describe a male personal assistant -- or servant -- especially one who is particularly competent or loyal, says Wikipedia.

So why don't we ever hear this Man Friday term? Maybe it's because Man tossed it out and made Girl his servant.

A true gentleman would have (at the very least) called her Woman Friday ...

Wonkette HQ: Sweatshop?

Is Gawker breaking some child blogo-labor laws over at Wonkette?

Ana Marie Cox is long gone. She retired from the Wonkette blog earlier this year. Now, less than a year since her departure, the blog has already been through not one, but two editors.

The latest Blogger-in-Charge? Alex Pareene.

Originally from Minnesota, 20-year-old Alex used to be a temp at Gawker. After Ana Marie left, he stepped on as co-editor with attorney David Lat [See photo / David, left; Alex, right]. But then David left, too. He is now working on the "Above the Law" site.

Geesh, now that Momma Ana and Daddy David are gone ... I hope Alex isn't afraid to be home alone.

Are the folks over at Gawker hurting so badly that they have to resort to child labor? Christ, in between his 20 entries a day, they've had Alex crashing parties at The Watergate and Cafe Milano -- and he isn't even old enough to drink (legally).

I hope they are paying little Alex $7/hour (D.C. minimum wage), at the very least.

And, if I was Alex, I'd start making half of those 20 posts a day cries for help. (Wasn't the required number of posts was 10-12 when Ana Marie was there?)

For the love of God ... get the boy out into some sunlight.

[Top photo: Alex Pareene, smokin' and sweatin']