Plug, plug = Nepotism at its finest

If you're in the New York City area towards the end of the month, there's a new off-Broadway show called J.O.B.- The Hip Hopera. My baby cousin, the mini-mogul, is a producer of the New York run, despite the fact that he's a) not religious and b) not a hip-hopper. Who knew?

The show got good buzz in Hell-A, so my friends and I will all be attending in support of my cuz and in hopes of scoring free Mai Tais, with the mini-umbrellas and plastic monkeys, at intermission. Although he's got champagne wishes and caviar dreams, my friends have been briefed what to do if he starts pulling rank: remind him of when he threw a 2-hour tantrum at age 7, because he dropped his chocolate chip cookie on the floor.

I will never, ever let him live that down.