Long story short, Falcon Heene, 6, from Fort Collins, Colorado, released a weather balloon and everyone though he was in it. They started this big manhunt to find the boy, but soon discovered he wasn’t on board after it landed. His parents later found that he was hiding in the garage. Falcon said he hid because he was scared his dad would yell at him. Although, others believe this is part of a publicity stunt. Considering the family has been on Wife Swap twice, that’s a reasonable assumption.

Last night, Balloon Boy’s family appeared on Larry King. Falcon was asked to explain why he didn’t answer when his dad kept calling him. Falcon blurted out, “You guys said we did this for a show.” Falcon’s dad pretended not to hear and kept asking why he didn’t answer. It’s like when you fart on national television and keep talking like nothing happened. Which I think someone did, actually.

This morning, the family appeared on the Today Show. When asked what Falcon meant by this being for a show, he threw up. Not a bad way to avoid a question. I couldn’t have done it better myself. Except, I may have went into a monologue from A Few Good Men and stormed out. I like to be dramatic.

Had a romantic relationship? Bingo. New York Magazine interviewed Clay Aiken since he’s in a Broadway show called Spamalot and I don’t even know where to begin. Just read it.

“Let’s not fool ourselves,” he says with his eyebrows up in his arch, queeny way. “The truth is? There are people like Justin Timberlake, males who are cool on radio right now, and then there’s me. If I heard myself in a dance club? If I went into a dance club—which I never do—and I heard Clay Aiken come on, I’d roll my eyes and get out. But you know what? I’m fine with being kind of vanilla! It’s oh-kye!” In his book, Aiken says that it’s not just clubs but also bars he dislikes: “The only reason people go to bars is to get drunk and have sex. To me, bars are what hell is like.”

He imagines his social life here will be “nonexistent, really. I’m not a nighttime person.” He does not plan on dating, and he is not involved with anyone. “Heck, no,” he says. “My dogs.” He has never had a romantic relationship with anyone, unless you count the girls he took to dances back in high school in Raleigh. “I just don’t have an interest in … any of that at all. I have got too much on my plate,” he says. “I’d rather focus on one thing and do that when I can devote time to it, and right now, I just don’t have any desire.”

But Aiken is 29 years old and he is also a human. Surely he must have needs. Urges. He contemplates this in silence for 20 or 30 seconds. “Ah think maybe I don’t! I mean, not really. I’ve just kind of shut it off, maybe. Is that bad?”

Clay Aiken has long denied being gay and after this I’m starting to believe him. He sounds more asexual. Like some sort of human Gumby. No sexual urges? Getting drunk and having sex is hell? Jesus, if he saw a penis or vagina for longer than 10 seconds, he’d run away crying. Whenever he has to wash his junk in the shower, he probably has a pained expression similar to that of someone trying to detach a crab from their nuts.