Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Crap That Crossed My Mind on the M103 You Need To Know

  • A big fat ass--the kind that can get in the way of the person who owns one- can make for a peculiar sight. As an artist, I'm drawn to drawing/sculpting/describing interesting shapes, and let me tell you something, the world is full of 'em. After much thought, I'm sure the attraction isn't sexual for me, but I understand that a significant part of the male human population does deem a big fat ass a requirement (I just returned from consecutive trips Puerto Rico and Fire Island, after all). Of course, perhaps I find the fat ass remarkable because don't have a fat ass of my own. As it happens, I did not grow up in a family of fat asses to speak of, even counting the "married-ins," if you will.  Naturally, I've got my own share of physical anomalies, but in the ass department, I'm evidently part of the less glutes/all bones clan. Genus: NoAssAtAll. Phylum: Small. Not anyone's fave that I know of, but it's no doubt a thing on the internetz somewhere. And I imagine that if I had a fat ass, even though it could cause capacity problems for me/others in the cramped quarters of the subway, I'd like to think that the idea also might be completely fantastic at times. I mean, having a big fat ass might be just like sitting in a comfy, cushiony, feathery, delightful, heavenly, bean bag chair.  A comfy, cushiony, feathery, delightful, heavenly bean bag chair, all the time. Everywhere. Like your own personal foam stadium cushion that you can leave behind at the Bills Tailgate in the Meadowlands even though you're hammered on Mr. T's Bloodys. Why? Because it's totally attached to your body, silly! Whether you like it or not. it's attached, yo! Wooden, backless bar stool for drinks with wooden, backless man for 13 minutes? Comfy. Grand stand at the US Open at Bethpage Black in Long Island for 1.75 hours? Comfy. Industrial plastic seat on rush-hour bus for 2 hours? Comfy. Crappy sofa you can't afford to replace for 3 hours? COMFY! The concrete floor of Penn Station and/or the terrazzo floor Grand Central after too many Jager Bombs at Happy Hour for 4 hours?  THE COMFIEST, dude! COMFIEST! IT'S ALL COMFY! COMFY MEANS COMFORTABLE AND COMFY IS SHORT FOR COMFORTABLE! Dude. Dig it. Comfy. Comf. 
  • I can say with 100% certainty that a chore I will never do is attempt to scrub the black ink stains from an absurd black pen explosion out of the hot pink lining of my light-skinned, snake-colored, python-simulate plastic handbag. The handbag, a terrible (but passing), functional, stylish and affordable stab at "I'm Not Only Relevant, I'm Not Homeless... Yet," will see the inside of a thrift store and/or garbage can before any scrubbing ever happens. Ever. And that, folks, is a guarantee. I don't think I make many of these here "guarantees," so go ahead and chew on this one. It's delicious. Totes. 
  • Speaking of stains, I'm reminded as I talk at you about a very interesting story about my former downstairs neighbors. Stop me if I've told you this very interesting tale before, but since I'm telling it at you in the terms of blogging at you and not to you, I can't respond in kind, so I'm just going to go with it and go with my original story of telling it at you.  Now, I'll never recall the individual names of the couple for the life of me, but their cute, fat, one-eyed cat's name was Claire. She'd sneak upstairs into my place and eat Doodle's food which REALLY pissed Doodle off --she's still scarred from it--and she'd get all Rrrrrrrrrrrrr!, but Doodle's always known she's a runt, that she's all meow and no real bite, unless, of course, she's got no other choice and she'll tear your nose off: doodle's a Beta Cat all the way. Anyhow, Claire's human companions were a married couple who met in college in Ohio--he was a struggling actor (originally from Ohio), and she was a caterer (Aussie-born and bred),  and we had a nice relationship based around feeding Doodle or Claire when one or the other was traveling. This was back in the day when I was working as nights behind the bar, and one afternoon, I saw the husband in the laundry room, and we had a pleasant, neighborly conversation at the washers. While I loaded my washer with dirty laundry, he, atop his, scrubbed the crotch of his wife's panties in between sprays of Shout. I remember thinking to myself that the odds were low that I'd ever find a man who would do that for me. (Was it for him?) Now I wonder how comfortable I'd be if I had. Anyhow, they moved back to Ohio. I wonder how those a-holes are doing. Not really. Give me a break. We all know how they're doing. 

I Think We're Dying, I Think We're Dead

Wanna come over? I'd like to entertain you with the latest in cutting-edge technology:

Hi-Fi? Obvs.

HD? Check. Surround Sound? Check.

Sushi and sake will be served promptly at 6. Checkity check it.

Also got a sewing machine, so bring it, jerks! 


See you soon!

Governor Sanford's Mistress: She Likes to Keep a Very Low Profile

By boning a politician?

A curious choice, in my opinion, but people do what they do.

Doodle Says Whatevs

Doodle in the tub. So?
NYC ~ June 30, 2009

So I Was Like OMG I Haven't Seen My Phone in 7 Hours Who Called Me?

Oh, nobody?

Everyone settle down.

Monday, June 29, 2009

If Your Upstairs Bubble is Bigger Than Your Downstairs Bubble

...wear a hat?
Fire Island Pines, NY ~ June 26, 2009

RIP Billy Mays: Oxi Clean is Fierce

Billy Mays (who died over the weekend at age 50) pictured with Orange Glo and Oxi Clean, 2 products I can vouch for as being excellent. Maybe I'll get on the KABOOM bus as a tribute to Billy. But in the new economy it's not likely. Who am I kidding. KABOOM this.

The Bitch Went to the Beach

Fire Island, NY ~ June 27, 2009

On a Scale of One to Monday, How is Everyone Today?

Saturday, June 27, 2009

Do It For Me

Enjoy Yourself, The Jacksons, 1979


"There is no such thing as inner peace. There is only nervousness or death. Any attempt to prove otherwise constitutes unacceptable behavior."
- Fran Lebowitz

Seriously, Hand It Over and There Won't Be No Trouble, I Swear

The Next Time You Feel Like Throwing Your 56 Year-Old Cat Out the Window

...because she crapped and/or pissed on your bed, take 70 deep breaths and remind yourself that you can't go through with it. Simply based on how cute she is. Especially in the photo you took of her this afternoon. I mean, cat lover or or not, it's impossible to deny.  She is so fucking cute:

Doodle, NYC ~ June 26, 2009

If a cat has to crap on my bed,  I'll take this one. Thanks. 

**Save the Date: Doodle's 10th Cat Birthday is August 7, 2009!** 
No shit,.

Friday, June 26, 2009

When You Find Yourself Terrified

....that you'll die by the edge of your own one and only pathetic (and blunt) kitchen knife which is violently plunged into your neck by the hand of an interloper, take heart (and a deep-cleansing breath) in the following: 

There's a greater chance you'll die in a car crash and/or similar/dissimilar.

Relaxed now? 

You're welcome. 

Have a good weekend. 

Because It's Still Friday, You're in Tatters...

And you're welcome

I Had a Wild Party at My Place Last Night



That's the last time I'm inviting those cats over. 

(Or the second to last. They're fun. I like to have fun.)

Two Can Anne: Not Womanly or Bloggerly Enough for BlogHer

BlogHer.com: A network of women bloggers & "the leading participatory news, entertainment and information network for women online."


Hello Anne,

I'm XXXX, an editor with BlogHerAds. Thank you so much for your interest in the BlogHerAds network, and please forgive the long delay in reviewing your application. We think your site is fantastic, unfortunately we cannot add it to the network at this time as we don't feel that our network is a good match for your format*.

If you have any questions or concerns, please don't hesitate to get in touch.

We wish you all the best!



* "We think your site is fantastic + Unfortunately we cannot add it to the network at this time as we don't feel that our network is a good match for your format" =  You talk about tits/twats/pricks/aholes too much. And peckers.

Texting with Tuna the Fish

My face has been ravaged by endless frustration.

Tuna ~ June 23, 6:58 pm

Farrah Fawcett Rub n' Play Poster

Farrah Fawcett by Bruce McBroom, 1977

Michael Jackson Rub n' Play Transfer Set

Colorforms. Rule.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

RIP Double Header: Farrah Fawcett n' Michael Jackson Die

Two ultimate masters of their crafts; may they both rest in peace. At least poor Farrah had a couple, two three hours of retrospection before the King of Pop popped.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to catch a plane so that I may stand outside Michael Jackson's house in Bel Air to get a front seat on the action that is unfolding now that he's been pronounced dead at a nearby hospital. Hopefully, I'll be interviewed by CNN about it so I can say that I'm his biggest fan and totally can't believe this is happening right now. Look for me; I'm wearing a white dress and one black glove.

According to CNN, which is streaming live out of my bunger, Michael Jackson is still dead. Will advise with more up-to-the minute news updates shortly, not immediately. Not on Twitter yet.

Peace Be Witchu

And also witchu.

Ladies Restroom Cellphone Talker/Crapper Strikes Again

You may remember my last encounter with the Miss Manners Nightmare whose ideal place to have a cellphone conversation is in the women's bathroom while she's on the toilet with her pants around her ankles.

Last week, I found her in there alone flossing her teeth at one of the several sinks, also in an indiscreet disgusting manner (think noises, flicking, bits of food flying). I gave her a wide berth. As I washed my hands, she entered one of the 9 stalls, closed the door behind her and sat down on the toilet, pants around ankles. A second later her cell phone went off:

*Deeee doo doo Deee deee doo doo Deee deee doo doo Deee doo doo*

She picked up:

"Debbie? Hi! Yeah, so, blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah..."

Me: Oh hell, no.

I turned around, entered the last stall and flushed the empty toilet.


Repeat x7 as I flushed every toilet in succession on my way out the door:








A waste of water? Definitely. Necessary? Absolutely. Effective? Probably not, but Debbie needs to know that she's chatting with someone with her ass on the john and her pants on the floor.

It was fun.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Extra-Marital Sexy Time Makes Go People Cuckoo Pants

South Carolina Governor Mark Sanford Admits Affair

Are We Ready for TO, Buffalo?

TO apologizes.

Oh, here we go.

She's Delightful!

I poached this clip of the impossibly cute Janice Dickinson from Perez for you. You're welcome.

I Love You Like Cooked Food, Baby

So You're an Extreme Breeder, Nagger, & Failure...

Tell me something I don't know, because I read the news because I like news
So, we get it. Are you gonna shut your piehole now, Kate?

You too, Jon?

Here's hopin'!

Read about how to nag effectively here.

Kate Gosselin on NBC's Today Show

You Had a Bad Day? Mastodon's Mother Puncher to the Rescue

Mastodon, "Mother Puncher" 2005

No offense, Moms out there; you know you know what a bad day is. Sometimes it's really bad.

All I Know is That Right Now the Worst Real Housewife of Orange County is Sayin' to Herself...

...I'm so glad I'm not a Real Housewife of New Jersey. 

Or am I?

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

#1 on Your Summer Reading List Should Be

Did You Know?

In 1963, the French launched a cat called Feliette into space*.

In a related story from 2009, Anne wanted to launch a cat called Doodle into space**.

*From Fast Facts.

**From me.

The Real Housewives of New Jersey: MCC Reads Cop Without a Badge!

This is my friend Michael Cyril Creighton, and he is hilarious. You may remember him from his several readings of his mortifying teen poetry in Mortified, or you may remember him from him playing a priest in Matt's Party. If you watch the Real Housewives of New Jersey, now you'll remember him for this.

Monday, June 22, 2009

The Poo n' Pee Machine Has Stopped...for Now

I bought $200 worth of new bedding for myself, $20 Friskies Tender Chunks for Doodle, and I hid the discount, fiasco-inducing 9 Lives in the back of the cupboard. Let us not speak of it again.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Friday, June 19, 2009

Doodle Took a Piss on My Bed

Can you believe this? While I watched men watch men play golf for 12 hours, Doodle managed to knock out not only the fresh sheet and blanket I hastily tossed on the mattress and curled myself into for the wee hour of sleep I got today with a nice big private piss festival, but she also, for good measure, slashed the F out of the mattress cover, shredding it to ribbons just the right amount to give the piss a chance super soak itself into my very expensive foam mattress. You know it, not the kind with the different numbers and the Bionic Woman bragging about it, but the kind where the broad jumps up and down in her pajamas next to the full glass of red wine? I'd like to see that same commercial done with that same broad (or another broad) jumping up and down next to not a glass of red wine, but a hairy, 6 lb. pissed-off pissbag full of piss named Doodle.  Who also happens to be a a shape shifter in the form of a hairy, 6 lb. pissed-off shitbag full of shit, on your bed, depending on the circumstances. 


My Guess on the Moral of This Tender Tale*: 

Attempting to save 30 cents a can on cat food by purchasing dog food will cost you $300. 

It's like trying to color your hair at home for a little savings.  It always seems like a good idea, but it never is. And the only always about it is that you always end up paying thrice for repairs and the only thing that it saves is your dignity. Bad hair color is bad, folks. (I'm talking to you too, dudes. Get a life. Pay a lady.) 

And then you want to toss your cat out the window. Nobody wins. Except Doodle (she'd die to be tossed out the window). 

*More Likely: What to Expect When You Bring a Wild Animal into Your Home

Someone Went to the US Open Golf Tournament at Bethpage Long Island Today

And that someone was me. It was a long, interesting, challenging, muddy, fun, exhausting day on one hour's sleep (in a bed which had to be changed rapidly because somebody else took a big messy dump on it) but so I'm glad I powered on and went.  

But, Doodle? If for some reason, I wanted someone to take a dump in my bed? I'd probably just do it myself, yeah? Thanks. 

Since you're obviously mad at me that I skimped on the quality of your new cat food because of Recession '09, I made sure to bring home some Fancy Feast for you and some Miller Light for me. You better have behaved yourself while I was out considering the fact I was given the opportunity to watch for free--not $150--50K rich white men in baseball hats who are young/thin/old/bloated watch 80 other men play golf for 12.5 hours--because I didn't shut that bedroom door because I trust you wouldn't have another dump in you to take. On my bed. 

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Did Somebody Say Turkey? Chicken? No? Cornish Game Hen? Hairy Wren? Yeah?

Doodle, NYC ~ August 30, 2006

Two Can Anne Joke of the Day

A dude goes to a female doctor for a check up.

Doctor: You need to stop masturbating.

Dude: Why?

Doctor: Because I'm trying to examine you.

Doodle Doing Her Best Hen Impression

Doodle, NYC ~ June 16, 2009

Man, would Doodle love to get her mits on a real, live hen. Just once.

What It's Like to be a VIP at Bonnaroo 2009 by Dave Hill

Warren Haynes (center), Dave Hill (right)
Photo: Dave Hill for BrooklynVegan.com

How's this for auxiliary awesomeness? My peep Dave Hill managed to not only play with his band Valley Lodge at Bonnaroo this year (as the House Band for Triumph the Insult Comic Dog's Bonnapoo), he blew his ass out from too much hot sauce AND he met the one and only, fierce and dreamy, Warren Haynes at the airport. Read Dave's snappy review of all the backstage, inside-scoop Bonnaroo shenanigans for Brooklyn Vegan here.

Whack-a-Kitty (Doodle Will Love It)


The Making of Whack-A-Kitty (no kitties were harmed in the making of Whack-a-Kitty)

When You Slip in a Slick of McDonald's Orange Drink Getting Off the Subway

Do NOT try to save your embarrassment and/or death by breaking your fall with the sole weight of your right hand middle finger. You'll sprain it and be prevented from flipping off the ahole who trampled you where you lie because he had his nose in The New York Times, his hand on his briefcase, and his head up his bing bang. 
PS Cleanup and/or Refreshments in the 33rd Street 6 Station

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

For Da Da Da

Courtesy of YouTube's now1000

"Elkhart Lake (Road America) 1957 and Rockford Ill Hill climb. 16 mm footage shot by my father who was an amateur sports car driver in the 50's. The first part is the hill climb. Dad is in the white 1949 MG TC at the hill climb"

Danielle to Dina on The Real Housewives of New Jersey Finale

"I sat alone at home with diarrhea for three weeks throwing up because of you!"

The Latest in 1961 Fashions from B Altman & Co

I'll take a small please. Put it on the house account. Thank you. 
From the August 26, 1961 issue of The New Yorker

Doodle: Not a Big Fan of Hats But a Big Fan of Mine

Doodle, NYC~ June 15, 2009

New Lows in the New Economy

This morning for $10, two co-workers bet me that I wouldn't put my boss's sweat sock--which I pulled from his construction boot up to my face, nose AND mouth--with fabric touching both--for 30 seconds. 

I won ten bucks.

Suckers, I would have done it for $5. For the entire 30 seconds I didn't inhale. But at the end, I gave it a micro whiff and...nothing. Just rubber, folks. He told me today the socks were clean, and I believe him. But the issue is this: I wouldn't matter; that money was to be mine, rain or shine. 

And yet, I can tell you this: I would need more than a couple hundies like most of y'all to sniff the chair in the latest Two Can Anne Poll:

Your Disgusting Co-Worker Grunts, Farts, Hacks, Picks, Flicks, Drips, Sneezes, Coughs, Groans, Spits and Licks. How Much to Sniff His Desk Chair?

A Million: 3 (16%)

$500,000: 0 (0%)

$5,000-$20,000: 2 (11%)

About $1000: 1 (5%)

A Couple Hundies: 5 (27%)

$60 or That Cigarette Behind Your Ear: 3 (16%)

Nothin': 2 (11%)

Are You Guys Talking About Me?: 2 (11%)

She's Cuckoo Luku Pants, She's Cuckoo Luku Pants

She's cuckoo luku pants, she's cuckoo luku pants...*

People are out of their minds.

*Sung to the tune of It's Howdy Doody Time

Monday, June 15, 2009

Doodle Says Give the Creep 158 Years

...Or Tyler Hayes Weinman will be murdering broads in no time. You can't rehabilitate someone with crossed wires like that. He's simply unrepairable. For example, if you bought a brand-new Tyler Hayes Weinman at Best Buy and didn't realize until you got him home just how incredibly fucked up he was, they wouldn't even bother re-directing you to the manufacturer when you brought him back. They'd just toss him in the garbage and give you store credit. Or better yet, a refund.

True Blood: Doodle's a Big Fan

Doodle, NYC ~ Sunday, June 14, 2009
Notice her right arm, still shaved from the all-day teeth/cleaning/pulling at the vet last month.

After Mama Altman's repeated high recommendations, Doodle and I finally caught up on HBO's True Blood Season 1 most of the day yesterday just in time for the premiere of Season 2. Good stuff! There will be blood.

How Much for Wonton Soup at Win Won Chinese Restaurant?


What does your local joint charge?

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Your Old Stuff + a Live Audience = Horrifying Comedy (Mortified)

The Anonymity Project: Sent in by Ramona. Thanks, Ramona!

Next Mortified NYC: Thursday, July 16, 2009 at Le Poisson Rouge! 7 pm
Recession-friendly ticket and drink prices! $10 advance / $15 day of show
Tickets on sale now.
Come share the shame!

Come on and Zoom

Zoom, Episode 1 Intro

Saturday, June 13, 2009

My Roommate's a Hairy, Big-Nosed, Intellectual

Doodle, NYC ~ June 12, 2009 ~ Just pontificating...

...and giving me the business. 

Friday, June 12, 2009

Living Free in the NYC! And Me!

How about this: 

Just in time for the New Economy, www.livingfreeinthenyc.blogspot.com comes along, a handy resource for all free/cheap crap to do in the greatest city in the world. Sure, living free in NYC is improbable, but it's not impossible. Think Anna Nicole Smith or whatevers (I'm not there just yet but it's not been ruled out yet either). While you wait for that meal ticket, check 'em out because they pimp quality free stuff. Take for example, oh, I dunno,  Lil' old me and my new show, Misery Date. Which happens to be free!
When: Friday July 31, 2009
Time: 7:30 PM
Where: Comix ~ Ochi's Lounge
353 West 14th Street
New York, NY 10011
Cost: Free

MISERY DATE: Online, Blind, and Simply Ridiculous Dating Stories - Are you single and frustrated? Perpetually the 3rd wheel? Sexless and the City? Anne Altman (Mortified, Two Can Anne) feels your pain because she's experienced the lion's share of terrible dates in this town: Cheap Guy, Gross Guy, Dumb Guy, Silent Guy, Militant Zionist Guy, "No Doubt About It" Guy (his favorite phrase), Creepy I'm Gonna Mention in the First 20 Minutes That I've Had a Vasectomy Guy, Nice Guy (never saw him again), Yoga Guy Who Liked to Say Namaste, Guy Who Smelled Like a Hamper, Yellow Rubber Bracelet Guy, and she could go on. Oh, and she will--misery loves company, so she's invited some similarly disenchanted folks to share their miserable stories for a cathartic evening of laughs, pity, a sliver of hope! All that plus some frosty beverages from the bar, what's not to love?
Hosted by Anne Altman.

Next Misery Date: July 31, 7:30 pm at Ochi's Lounge. It's a Friday, so you can get your drink --and your weekend--on while you enjoy tales of online, blind, and simply ridiculous dating stories as told by those who survived with absolutely no cover charge. Why? Because your life isn't where you want it to be, you know it, and you deserve better.

Oh, like Living Free in the NYC isn't my --and your-- new favorite blog? I totes think it is. You're welcome, everyone!

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Red Sox Sweep the Yankees in Beantown

 Image of a woman sweeping near her house, a spinning wheel in the background, Bally Castle, County Antrim, Ireland, 1903.

Bosox 4
Yanks 3
June 11, 2009

Doodle Has a Diva Side

Doodle, NYC ~ June 11, 2009


 Patti LuPone and Christian Bale got nothin' on the Divine Ms. D. 

Texting with Tuna the Fish

Asians have absolutely no peripheral vision. They may as well be blind. Name one Chinese explorer. 

- Tuna, January 23, 7:56 pm

The Boston Red Sox vs The New York Yankees

Last night's game: Jun 10, Boston Red Sox 6 - New York Yankees 5

Tonight's game: vs. New York Yankees, Jun 11 7:10pm ET

Let's go for the sweep, Sox!

Anne's in Love with Puerto Rico: She's Got Legs. Viva!

Self Portraits with Legs, Starbucks and Payless on Condado Beach, P.R. ~ Saturday, June 6, 2009 ~ 7:00 a.m.

The Marriott on Condado

Let's zoom in a tad more: Is that our pal Jenn pretty in pink, relaxing on the balcony with a crossword? Why yes, it is! Apparently she was also with camera:

Me "flippin' for P.R." on Condado Beach --beautifully captured by Jenn Wehrung

~Puerto Rico, June 6, 2009 ~

It's Not That You're Annoying...

It's just that...well, look.  I lied. You are. To other folks, let's say, your friends or your mother or your dog or whatever, you're probably fine. Probably. To me? You annoy me. You're nice, and you most definitely mean well, but it appears that save for you disappearing, you can't help but be annoying. And I, save for disappearing in turn, can't help but be annoyed. So it's not your fault, it's not mine. We just don't go together. It happens. And I try to remember this when the thoughts of knocking your block off/stabbing you in the neck with a plastic fork/and/or/both creep in. Which is anytime you're anywhere within 600 feet of me and talking. So although there's really nothing to worry about--as I am a lover and Ambassador of Peace--you might want to keep it in mind, you know? Just for whatevers.  Smooches!

Where Were You on June 16, 17, & 18 of 1967?

poster image from www.whocollection.com

Were you at the Monterey International Pop Festival in San Fransisco? You don't remember it? Perhaps you were conceived there? If you'd like to go back in time, you can go to the show now by watching the movie filmed during the festival called Monterey Pop (1968) directed by D.A. Pennebaker. Preferably in HD. It's unsettling how amazing it is. Wrapping your head around the fact that all the footage of hotties you're drooling over are well into their '60's now is one thing you'll encounter, and then your brain will be blown to bits by Jimi Hendrix's performance (first he makes love to it, then he sets it on fire, then he makes more love to it, then he smashes it to bits. And in HD he's smashing your brain to bits. There will be bits.)

Needless to say, without Monterey Pop '67 there'd be no Woodstock '69, and without Woodstock '69 (my Uncle Mike said it sucked) there'd certainly be no Bonnaroo '09 which is underway tonight in Manchster, TN rain or shine--and from what I hear, there's rain. Congrats to all m' peeps honored to rock the Bonnaroo stages for the first time: comedy via Christian Finnegan, and Pete Holmes and tunes from The Tangiers Blues Band. Someone please give Warren Haynes a big, wet, sloppy kiss for me? Thank you!

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Doodle Likes to Keep it Movin'

Doodle, NYC ~ June 9, 2009

Click on pix for more ridix*.