Monday, June 30, 2008
Victor was wasted when he pointed at me from across the room, came up to us and announced, "You are so beautiful, I must buy you a drink!" As he made his way over, he made sure to reassure my friend's boyfriend that he was gay. As if he needed to tell any of us that, especially my girlfriend's boyfriend. For the purposes of this little story, I must tell you that Victor is white, and my friend and her boyfriend are black. Within minutes of sloppily opening and closing his tab 3 times to buy himself and the rest of us a drink (I did the math on his credit card receipt for him since he had trouble, "What's fifteen plus 3?"), Victor blurted out--to my friends--"I JUST WANT YOU TO KNOW, THAT I HATE RACISTS!" Oh, geez, I think to myself. Here we go. "I DO! I HATE RACISTS! I I WENT TO AN ALL BLACK HIGH SCHOOL!" and then he proceeded to cue up for a high five from the boyfriend. Surprisingly, he got one.
Let's all play the I Hate Racists Game. It's fun! And a great way to ingratiate yourself to strangers! Repeat after me:
To a gay person, say: I HATE HOMOPHOBES! I WENT TO AN ALL GAY HIGH SCHOOL!
To a woman, say: I HATE GYNOPHOBES! I WENT TO AN ALL GIRL HIGH SCHOOL!
To a bird, say: I HATE ORINTHOPHOBES! I WENT TO AN ALL BIRD HIGH SCHOOL!
To cheese, say: I HATE TUROPHOBES! I WENT TO AN ALL CHEESE HIGH SCHOOL!
You get the idea.
I watched Freaky Friday with Jodie Foster yesterday on TCM while I rearranged my bedroom furniture with the hopes it would improve my life (will advise). 1970's fashions, cars, appliances, and recreation including field hockey--replete with lesbianish opposing team coaches--and waterskiing? What's not to love?
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Friday, June 27, 2008
Cha Cha's House of Ill Repute
68 Jay St. Suite 312 (enter at 174 Front St.)
DUMBO, Brooklyn, NY
F train to York St. (1 stop into Brooklyn)
147 Front Street (bet. Pearl & Jay Sts.)
Entrance where Rebar is located. Walk up stairs to Rebar & take left thru archway just past bar. Take 1st staircase on right & walk up to nxt floor. Take a right from staircase on that floor. Take your 1st right after that. We're just down the hall. See you there!
(Call if you get lost, either in the building or just getting to the building, 212-420-7450)
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Oh no! Here I'm hoping for more natural disasters to cull the stupid human population, and I forget what happens to the animals. Look at this little guy how worried he is, swimming his pigtail off trying to keep his head above water! Please click on the paragraph below from http://www.farmsanctuary.org/ to make a donation today. I just sent them $20. Again, just a drop in the bucket, but that's just two less martinis (which are two more than I need, I assure you). Doodle thanks you in advance--she repects pigs for their advanced intelligence, being the animal snob that she is. Please help?
"Flood waters have ravaged the Midwest, and farm animals need immediate rescue! The recent flooding has hit largely agricultural areas, leaving pigs, cattle and other animals stranded.
Hundreds of factory farm pigs have been left trapped and drowning in crates, or freed only to be swept away by rapid currents … trying desperately to survive on area levees. Farm Sanctuary dispatched a rescue team with our large animal rescue trailer last week and we are currently on the ground in Iowa and Illinois to save drowning and stranded pigs."
Robert Randolph and the Family Band, I Need More Love
Robert Randolph Rules. He simply makes love to that pedal steel guitar, and if you've never seen him live, you're doing yourself a serious disservice. Plus, he thinks Kanye sucks, so. Fuck Kanye.
Now, because I love you SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO much, start your morning/afternoon/evening with another dose of Robert with Going in the Right Direction. If your knee's not bouncing to this, you've obviously no soul. Even the deaf jam to Robert Randolph, man.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
I've been feeling pretty crappy these days. Planet earth is melting, animals, land, and water are disappearing, America is crumbling, and the dollar is worthless. Oh, and there's a huge war going on started by some jerk who shall remain nameless. Sigh. Then you've got the a-holes running around. Like the one who installed a central air conditioner in the building across the street which sounds like a Mac truck is idling outside my window 24 hours a day for two weeks now. I wondered why I was clenching my teeth in my own apartment. And the broad who plowed into me at the dry cleaners this morning to get by without an "Excuse me." You better believe I gave her stink eyes. And on, and on, and on and on and on. On it goes. What to do?
I decided to help someone other than my own fat ass. I got out my checkbook and wrote a check for $20 to the Riddle Elephant Sanctuary (Willie, born in 1979 is pictured here), and organization in which I was able to "adopt" Tuffy the elephant last year for $100. Talk about no control over their lives, these poor creatures are fucked at every turn, entirely being wiped out by humans. Whether they're being poached in Africa or Asia for their tusks, losing their habitats to development worldwide, or being abused in circuses or zoos, being rescued and living out their lives in a sanctuary devoted to their care is the best thing that can happen to them. Sure, it's only $20--but the elephants need it more than I need a 4 trips to Dunkin Donuts, you know?
So please, at the very least, if you can't make a donation to your favorite charity, would you click here to feed an animal for free? Thank you!
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Strawberry Shortcake. What a jerk. Nice hat. How did any kid watch this shit? Chipper morning berries like Strawberry need a swift kick in the shortcake and some yankin' by the strawberry shorthairs. If ol' Miss Shortcake and I were new roommates, we wouldn't last long, I tell ya. I'd be drawing horse dicks on her shower curtain with the hobby horses on it and pissing in her Proactiv bottles faster than you can say, "Wake, up, Custard! We've gotta go see Blueberry Muffin!" Run away, Custard. She's a crazy bitch with no friends. Break the lease. Get your own place.
He pulled his truck around and I started cracking up. He said he didn't notice that this was going to be his license plate until he was walking out of the DMV when it was too late. Poo!
Doodle, June 23, 2008
Monday, June 23, 2008
Thursday, June 19, 2008
I poached this vid from Jenn. It is unsafe for viewing at work. Unless you work in a prison. Then it might be ayite. All Shyrese wants to know is, what the fuck would y'all do in her mother fuckin' situation?
*this video may contain: nuts, attitude, wheat, ghettonessness, a horrendous tip, excessive profanity, mother fucking filet mignon, the flipping of the bird, a baby crying, and/or possibly some ass**.
**definitely some ass.
- Szele told investigators she doesn't remember hitting anyone because she was drunk and blamed the flight crew, saying they "served her three vodka drinks."
- The crew told investigators she was served only one drink.
- Szele also admitted to investigators that she drank two beers at home prior to leaving for the airport.
- She told the investigators she normally curses a lot and often uses the "F" word.
- Szele said if she did hit someone, "he must have hurt her because she is not a violent person."
- Whyte says Szele was yelling racial epithets to him the entire time and said, "I'm going to get you." She also threatened to kill him.
Sure, she's no Gerard Finneran, but Christina Szele definitely makes the Frequent Former Flyer All Star Club in my opinion. The show she put on just may be worth the fines. And the jail time. As soon as they un-handcuff her I'd like to shake her hand. I just hope she doesn't punch me.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Age: Around 8
Type: Domestic Short-hair Tortoiseshell (chubby)
Temperament: Very sweet, though not a lap-cat. She will follow you around from room to room and sleep at your feet. She will meet you at the door when you come, and she will undoubtedly be very nosy and want to know what's going on all the time. She likes her head to be petted, though has to be in the right mood for her back to be. What else: Xhosa loves people, but can't be around other non-human animals as she is a bit of a bully to them. She needs a home with no other animals. She's very independent but LOVES company. A bit feisty sometimes, so not recommended for households with toddlers. She currently resides in uptown Manhattan.
Contact: Jasmin at firstname.lastname@example.org
I'm tired of his whiny grillpiece. Sit down already, dude. Take a nap or go away or something.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
In an unrelated story, a fifth severed foot in 11 months was found on the Canadian coast.
My friend Robin Glasser's petite poise belies her scampy little past! Here is an excerpt from her brand new recently-released e-book My Life as a Concubine:
"I'm no Steven Spielberg, but in my mind I'd gone through thousands of takes and the credits were now rolling. It was time for the big Q&A. I chose Christmas, when The Big Apple is aglitter and gay, to inquire if he'd given any thought to the future. How's that for being blunt? In that heavenly accent, Jean-Loup burbled merrily along about his apartment, his pension, his blah-blah-blah, until my eyes began to glaze. I interrupted this litany with a more direct query, something like, "Are you taking me with you when you leave?"
"Mais oui! You come avec moi this night."
"You're going to Paris tonight?!
The Frenchman gave me a puzzled look, then took a long moment to reply. "How I can go to Paris this night?"
Before I could respond, a wolfish grin split his face and he chortled, "You make the joke, no?"
"NO!" I just want to know if I am going with you--"
"Oui. You going with me this night to the, the fête," Jean-Loup spoke very slowly as if I were retarded, a two-year old or both.
Now I am a writer. I have an extensive command of the English language. I own a dictionary and a thesaurus. I used to compose word puzzles, for chrissakes! But no matter how I phrased and rephrased my questions, I couldn't get a straight answer. In fact, our Q&A was turning into that famous Abbott and Costello baseball routine--you know, Who's on First? I spoke slowly. I enunciated perfectly. I hit him point-blank.
"Jean-Loup, are you taking me to Paris with you when you leave New York City?"
He took my sweaty hand, stared soulfully into my eyes. I held my breath. His pouty lips parted in a no.
It felt as if I was suffocating until I realized that I'd better exhale. Although rejection was not part of my scenario, I did have a rewrite ready. Regarding my former paramour evenly, I coolly spat, "Get out!"
The tables had been turned. The worm was wriggling, demanding to know what I meant. I put it succinctly: "Adieu, adios, bye-bye!"
Jean-Loup looked dazed and confused--he still hadn't caught on. I translated for him. "It's over, finished, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year--have a nice life."
"Why you want I leave, the Frenchman persisted.
"Because I love you."
"You love me but you want not to see me? I comprehend not what you say me."
"Listen carefully, Jean-Loup. I've never felt this kind of love for anyone before. I'm afraid to keep seeing you. Afraid that I'll fall even deeper in love than I am now. Your rejection really hurt me. To go on as if nothing has happened isn't possible."
Grabbing hold of my hand, gazing into my eyes, he spoke soothingly, "Ma chérie, you must to know that I adore you. Why we suffer separate for the nine months? Can you say me what occur in this time? You can make la prédiction to the future?
"Of course not! But to keep on seeing you would only add more cracks to my already shattered heart."
Jean-Loup used all the charm he possessed to convince me--and maybe himself--that we could still have fun as a couple. But I was adamant. With a Gaullist shrug, he departed.
* * * *
I went out with friends, dated other men. I refused to answer his calls. At home, I screened my messages, steeling myself not to pick up the receiver whenever I heard his alluring voice. At the door to my apartment, bouquets of flowers tantalized. The Frenchman was on a mission and his pursuit was as hot and heavy as his breathing during sex.
I kept to my script for an entire month. The phone rang. I answered. Jean-Loup sounded utterly wretched as he begged and pleaded to see me. We made a rendezvous for the park near Gracie Mansion.
The bleak day matched Jean-Loup's face. He hadn't slept for weeks, was miserable without me, had given serious thought to us, and wanted me to live with him in France. I remained wary until the tears began to streak his cheeks, melting the chains surrounding my heart.
"You really want me to come to Paris?"
"How do I know you won't change your mind?"
"Say me what you want."
All I really wanted was him but I wasn't about to tell Jean-Loup that. Instead I said, "I need something tangible, some--"
"What means this tan-jay-bull?"
"It means real. I want proof of your commitment. Something solid. Hmmm ... Solitaire ... A ring!"
We picked one out together--a modest antique set with a sparkly but flawed sapphire. On his part, Jean-Loup took the initiative to have a contract drawn up that proclaimed we would live together in a State of Concubinage--a common-law never-never land that gives couples legal status in France--which was witnessed by his close friend and mine. Not exactly a marriage ceremony, but we did drink champagne afterwards. He also wrote my parents a beautiful, grammatically incorrect letter in which he declared that: "she gives me a grate proof of love, leaving ... her job, her appartment, her cat and everything, and I dont want she regrets this choice..."
At the end of summer, we flew to Paris. Did I mention that loup is French for wolf?"
Click here to read the rest of Robin's Life as a Concubine! Only 6 beans? Mais oui!
Back in the day, it was considered en elevation in status to remove oneself from the cities and get a house in the suburbs. Statistics show now that suburban folks want a sense of community back. To be able to walk places in real neighborhoods instead of manufactured ones. To be able to walk to a corner store instead of having to drive everywhere. Whatever happened to front porches? Now new houses feature the outside of a closed 4-car garage door. Inviting!
In short: people want to live and work in cities or at least work closer to their homes. No shizzle. In this town, the average person can't afford to live. And the below average income person? Forget about it, they're getting pushed out of neighborhoods left and right--New York City is for richy snooty pants either foreign or domestic (at this rate, most likely foreign). The future West Side Story won't be in NYC, it'll be in Elk Grove, California or Marietta Georgia, or Medina, Ohio. Who knew?
Jane Jacobs knew.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Rust-free all-aluminum construction (strong n' light).
Carpeted quick-adjustable bunks constructed of pressure treated wood.
Self-braking winch with enclosed gears.
Heavy-duty zinc plated pulleys with galvanized cable.
Bed frame reinforced with horizontal cross bars
***the 700lb model comes with a winch handle instead of the wheel (better to lift your fat ass).
Call for fat ass shipping costs. Orders typically ship within 24-48 hours, fat ass. Call 800-657-9998 and speak to one of our knowledgable sales associates with ANY questions prior to ordering your fat ass lift! Boat Lift Distributors is committed to finding the best solution that meets your specific fat ass needs. Fat ass.
Are you a dip loser? You know, one who serves (or brings) a crappy dip at a party? Sure you are. And there it sits, the crappy dip. The dip nobody touches. The dip that congeals. The dip that doesn't move. Remember my Grama's Green Bean Tureen? That dish always came back from the church potluck more than halfway full. 'Member that? Aww, Gram.
Well, your dip loser days are no longer. This cocktail party dip is so special, it'll make you more popular than you are in your wildest dreams. Picture fellow party goers hoisting you on their shoulders and parading you about the room with boistrous chants of BEST FUCKIN DIP! BEST FUCKIN DIP! BEST FUCKIN DIP! BEST FUCKIN' DIP! BEST FUCKIN' DIP! You're all smiles, clasping your hands and cheering for yourself. Everyone will eat the dip. Everyone will be sad when its gone. Everyone will want the recipe. Everyone will have just a little more respect for you. And who doesn't need that? My advice? Double up on the respect by doubling up (or tripling up) on this recipe. This dip goes fast. Like, supersonic immediamento.
Frank's Red Hot Buffalo Chicken Dip*
- 8 oz. pkg. cream cheese
- 1/2 cup blue cheese or ranch salad dressing
- 1/2 cup FRANK'S® REDHOT® Original Cayenne Pepper Sauce or FRANK'S® REDHOT® Buffalo Wing Sauce
- 1/2 cup crumbled blue cheese or shredded mozzarella cheese
- 2 cups shredded cooked chicken (fresh or canned)
1. HEAT oven to 350°F. Place cream cheese into deep dish 9-inch pie plate. Microwave 1 min. to soften.
2. WHISK in salad dressing, Frank's RedHot Sauce and cheese until smooth. Stir in chicken.
3. BAKE 20 min. or until mixture is heated through; stir. Garnish as desired. Serve with tortilla chips, potato chips, crackers or vegetables.
Microwave Directions: Prepare as above. Microwave, uncovered, on HIGH 5 min. until hot, stirring halfway through cooking.
Tip: For a party buffet table, keep this dip hot in a small crock pot or fondue pot.
*In honor of Buffalo's own late, great, Tim Russert.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
- Boyfriend dump you?
- Husband disinterested in sex?
- Hate your job?
- Need a vacation?
- Husband wants sex?
- Just win the lottery?
- Eyebrows need waxing?
- Can't find a babysitter?
- High school reunion coming up?
- Housework too much?
- Excessive perspiration?
- Crows feet?
- Too fat?
- Hate your car?
- Hate your neighbor?
- Hate your neighbor's car?
- Boyfriend a deadbeat?
- Can't afford a housekeeper?
- Husband wants a divorce?
- Thinning hair?
- Kids on your nerves?
- Got a work crush?
- Hate war?
- Dog die?
- Worried about global warming?
- Driveway needs blacktop?
- Low on prescription meds?
- Glass ceiling killing your career?
- Recently evicted?
- Torn earlobe?
- Bite your nails?
- No kids?
- Bills piling up?
- Witchy mother-in-law?
- Flat feet?
- Worried you'll die alone?
- Worried you'll live forever with people?
Answer yes to any of these questions? Not to fear. I have the cure! Brought to you by the the folks who do everything better than we do*--the Japanese--it is with pleasure that I introduce to you
Holy crap. This stuff changed my life. Got myself a tube last week at Sephora and it's been Easy Street ever since. In fact, it's almost always sold out (even at Sephora.com) so I'm not exactly sure why I'm promoting my cure-all elixir to the rest of you sad sack chicks, but there you go. Fiberwig. Get some and get a life. You can thank me later. (bats eyelashes, one, two, three times)
*Save for body hair. We do that better, unfortunately.
*Look, give me a break. I'm new to this positive thinking horseshit and not sold on it by any means. Just trying to cope.
Cat Stevens, Father and Son, 70's
Friday, June 13, 2008
*Why can't a jerk like Bill O'Reilly catch a heart attack?
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Sunnyside Queens ~Anne's Annual Trip to See Her Accountant~4/08
I took some snaps of Brandy and Sara at Kingdom of Heaven at the Creek and the Cave a few weeks ago. Brandy asked how the pictures came out. "Oh, they're a little blurry but great," I replied. "Totally slutty and bloody." A phrase which perfectly describes this campy, trampy and delightful duo who are celebrating the final installment of their Kissing Booth variety show tonight. Come out to support the gals! Or, just show up so you can tell them properly to fuck off. They'd do the same for you.
WHERE: The Tank
WHEN: Thursday June 12th, 2008
Cocktail hour & reception from 7 - 8 PM with FREE PUNCH!
Final Show from 8 - 9:30 PM
Final After Party from 9:45ish to?
COST: ABSOLUTELY FREE!
$3 Bud Light available all night, $4 wine, FREE PUNCH 'til the cooler runs dry!
Matt & Katina!
Pucker up one last time for comedy!
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
What I'm not digging (and I unfortunately own in a full-sized, brand-new bottle):
- Versace, Woman It smells like blecccchhhhhh. Blicky blicky doo doo. Who wants a full bottle of bleccccchhhh? Free shipping.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
- Philadelphia loved my hair. The first heatwave of the season was kicked off in Philly, and my 'do looked amazing. In fact, even in the humidity, I'd go as far as saying that I was the hottest single broad in Philadelphia last weekend. Did I say that? Yeah. I said it.
- Philadelphia however, did not love my camera, and it died after a long battle with whatevs on Saturday night, never to revive, not even when I licked the battery. Thankfully, I got some nice pictures in before its death, but now I'm in the market for a new camera again. Feel free to purchase this one for me.
- What else do you want to know? Well, I stayed here. Ate here, here, and here. Drank champagne and Campari here. Saw the most amazing art collection I've ever seen in my life here. Saw the world's largest colon and bevy of creepy babies and things in jars here. Also watched this on a huge wall in one of the most fantastic apartments I've ever seen, its lofty living room once the basketball court of the now defunct St. Paul's Catholic School.
Thursday, June 05, 2008
- Obama wins the Democratic nomination. No kidding. This country isn't ready for a broad.
- I have developed a dangerous addiction to Haagen Daz lowfat frozen yogurt vanilla and/or coffee. Clearly, I'm hell bent on my dreams of outsizing and being buried in a piano case.
- I've been asked to show Jealous Guy, my short starring Doodle and her ex-boyfriend Bernie (edited by Clark ov Saturn) at the New Kingston Film Festival on Saturday, July 26, 2008.
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
- The plaster cast of the torso of world-famous Siamese Twins, Chang & Eng, and their conjoined livers
- Joseph Hyrtl's collection of skulls
- Preserved body of the "Soap Lady"
- Collection of 2,000 objects extracted from people's throats
- Cancerous growth removed from President Grover Cleveland
- Tallest skeleton on display in North America
To read more about the museum's history, click here.
Did someone say conjoined livers?
"I will send you a new password, then make sure your enter your ID in all capital letters, then when your in there you hi lit your boss's name and make arrangements from their."