It's a Look That Screams "Amnesty International" Doesn't It?

True, I'm not a huge fan of this hat.

But then again, the blue suit was worse.

I'm fucked.

Say This to Me at Your Own Risk

Howdy, parents and parents-to-be out there! It's getting to be that time of year again, the time to prepare the Friends and Family Christmas Letter! You know the one, typed up on the computer--on some delightful holiday stationery perhaps featuring some scanned photos-- where you discuss in the third person what's going on with you, your husband and your tykes via regular mail or email? Ok, great!

Listen up:

Use the term "in-home daycare provider" instead of the term "babysitter" and you're looking at a punch in the face via regular mail or email.

Thanks.

Theft Proof Cellphone for 2006: A Poem

If you want to keep your phone

If you want thieves to leave it alone

Go back in time to 1998

Phones back then were really great

True, now it's 2006

When people steal phones to get a kick

But you'd never know it from this pic

That's right--

I took it just last night

a poem by anne altman, all rights reserved

That Crazy Artesi Family!

If you don't want to spy your earlobe dangling precariously from the rest of your ear, you might want to stay far, far away from the Artesis. Me thinks they get pissed off easily. More easily than I do. And that's saying something. If Raffaele Artesi says to you, "Got your nose!" you might want to check because odds are, he has not a fingerful of his own thumb, but your actual nose.

Rebel Without a Job

Doodle, 9/26/06

I Love Being Belittled By a Little President

President Bush reacted oh so undefensively and in typical form to the declassification of the report (which was produced by his own administration) that the Iraq war has made the threat of terrorism worse by saying that those of us who believe this are "naive" because the idea is "preposterous."

What?

Is he saying that the war in Iraq has not created many more angry punks all over the place with headbands and Kalashnikovs and nothing to live for who want to kill us and everyone who associates with us? I know I was at my personal level of fill before the war, thank you very much, and I'm willing to bet that more than 50% of the people in the U.S. (if not the world) agree with me. My people: The naive and preposterous. I'm just waiting for him to call me a stupid idiot. It's around the corner, I just know it.

I love this quality, this belittling, always right disposition? Especially in a man. Reminds me of my ex-boyfriend's father. Great guy. Really respected his wife's opinion. Once when she was showing off her nails to me, fresh from the salon, he said, "You got your nails done? In that color? It's ugly. I hate that color. What idiot gets that color? What's for dinner? Tacos? I hate tacos. What a stupid idea. I can do 50 one-armed pushups. What can you do? None. That's right, none. Don't be stupid." Miss him!

The Robot: Always Funny

Ok, I couldn't resist posting another video of another news reporter, this time covering the violent crime beat in some podunk town. There are several instances of funny in this little flick. I watched it 3 times, but it's early yet.

They're Gonna Jack Off the Cost of Heating My Home?

Unacceptable! I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore! But first I'm going to laugh at this stupid shit a few more times.

In My Netflix Queue

Sleepaway Camp.

Supposedly it will be delivered today. Oh, the horror!


Spoiler:
If you want to cheat and see the ending, go here. Surprise!

I Found My Bank Card

You know, the one I lost, panicked over, and cancelled? Yeah, that one. I found it. Now I have two. One works.

Have I Told You Lately How Annoying Zach Braff Is?

Well, if not, let me tell you. Zach Braff is annoying.

He really crept up on me with his annoyingness. At first, he was a blip on the screen: the awkward, facial-expressiony and lippy star of Scrubs. But then he put out the movie Garden State, began dating Mandy Moore, made more tabloids photographed outside of his scrubs, gave interviews that made me want to punch him and hug Mandy when she finally dumped him. I could say more, but Josh Levin says it better.

Butterfly Conspiracy?

The thing with having bangs is, you have to "do" them. Sort of. Anyone who still sports a terrible 80s hairdo knows this well, but I (not having the wispy bangs that my hairstylist Butterfly recently talked me into since the 8th grade) seem to have forgotten this. Tonight I left my hair wet just a little too long and went out this evening too see a show (called "News to Me," review to follow) where I apparently sported "funny bangs" and was the subject of kind-hearted ribbing from my friends.

"Nice bangs."

Are the bangs are cute and do they make me look younger? Yes. But since the "bang cutting" a few months ago, I've found that the only way to rectify things when the bangs get too long is not to be a cheap-ass and cut them myself like I did in Junior High (and 2.5 weeks ago): twist them into a rope and cut straight across--but instead, go visit Butterfly to fix the problem. I created. Or she created? Which led me to the theory that perhaps that is what Butterfly wanted all along: me to visit my hairstylist more frequently. Darn it all! Just like the damn dentist! More visits require more time and money invested! All in the name of teeth and hair!

Neeny would say that pesky things like hair and teeth are dragging me down and draining my bank account. I remember once on a visit to my grandmother seeing my dear Aunt Neeny with some strange bruising on her face near her jaw. "I was tired of having my teeth fall out and all those visits to the dentist, so I had him pull 'em all," she said.

"Of course. Problem solved!" I replied, with a weak, uncomfortable smile. Are those bruises from the dentist's shoe on her jaw as he pried and pried with his two hands, a plier, and all his might?

Her line: "Why did God have to go and create teeth and hair?!?!"

I don't know, Neeny, I just don't know. But Dr. Castellano and Butterfly may have an idea.

I'm going to hold out until my wisps are poking me in the retinas, but I do have a dentist appointment on Wednesday and I'll make sure to talk to the hygenist and see what she has to say. These days, Dr. Castellano only has time for a "Hi, how are you, great teeth, did you have braces? See you in six months!" it seems.

Side By Side

Boy, Doodle cat and I sure do love hanging out together. It's dinner time, and she just gave me that look. That "Where's my dinner, bitch?" look.

My favorite reply is always, "If it was up your ass you'd know where it was!"

And we laugh, and laugh, and laugh. It's totally one of my favorite things to say. I guess it's more me laughing and less her laughing. Sure, she doesn't appreciate it as much as I do, obviously, but whatevs, you know?

Shock! Horror! Disbelief!

I am saddened to deliver the following news: Aaron Carter has called off his engagement to his older brother's ex-girlfriend, a former Playboy Playmate!

Shock! Horror! Disbelief!

!

!

!

Who the hell is Aaron Carter?

Gummy Cola Bottles: Little Pieces of Heaven

I'm crazy for these things. And sour gummy cola bottles? Forget about it. Insanely delicious and ridiculous. Gummy cola bottles should be a staple in everyone's kitchen. Add in some soup, noodles, peas, and tuna, and you've got yourself a Tuna Noodle Gummy Cola Bottle Casserole.

The Dr. Phil House Was Rough Today

Doodle, 9/25/06

Doodle was disgusted with the behavior of these two blobs in front of their kids. I was just tired of looking at the dude's jean shorts, white socks, and white sneaks. There is something about those acidy washed, hemmed a few inches just above the knee, practical denim shorts on men that makes me very angry. And violent.

Plus, the close-up personal web diary of the wife who has been cheating on her husband is gross because she's a slobbering, hyper-ventilating, red-eyed, boogery mess, a la Blair Witch Project. (See for yourself, here).Since half of Dr. Phil is commercials and previews for upcoming scenes, they kept replaying it to our chagrin. Doodle was like, "Shut the fuck up, already!" Bleeccchh.

Construction across the avenues for a brand new view-blocking and unaffordable highrise (yay!) is irritating; add that to the piano "playing" by my upstairs neighbor's kid who's got all kinds of problems, and yours truly is truly stressed out. Time for Cable On-Demand Exercise television. Hula or belly dancing today?

Shhhhh: Doodle's Christmas Present

Direct marketing is highly annoying and utterly effective! The company from which I purchased Doodle's Water Fountain has just spammed my inbox with a listing of their new products. I was about to hit delete when I saw this:

A little cat grass garden hanger thingie! So Doodle can get all of her green nutrients in between yearly visits to Vermont instead of biting the shit out of my Home Depot plants which I stopped buying regularly because she was biting the shit out of them?

Doodle's worth it.

Anne's Visit to the 2006 San Gennaro Festival

Last night was the final day of the San Gennaro feast in Little Italy, a much-loved 79-year old tradition of greasy food and greasy people. Oh, right--and a salute to San Gennaro himself, the Patron Saint of Naples. I would have stuck some dollar bills on that cat and everything but having lost my job and all...

Here is a series of photos I managed to take before my battery pack ran out. What you won't see: the Dunk the Clown Tank. That bitch was sinking too fast for a clear photo. What you will see: Guidos, guidettes, cops, fried Oreo's (you know how much I love the possessive Oreo), greasy zeppoles in paper bags, and last but not least, hip, very current stuffed toys like Gizmo. Step right up, folks, even if you lose, you win.

The best part of the evening that is not documented here was an incredible live doo-wop band called "Just Friends." The majority of these guys were in their sixties, and their rendition of "In the Still of the Night" made me feel like I was back in the 1950's again. Very, very cool.

Pray For Her: Doodle Is a Bills Fan

Doodle, 9/24/06

Given that, it's needless to say, but Doodle had a bad day yesterday. Look how pissed she is here watching her team lose to the Jets! She kept shouting at the television set, "Why aren't we running the ball?" Her favorite player? Lee Evans. The Patriots also lost-- to Denver--which I was not prepared for. I mean, the Bills collapsed, sure, but The Patriots always win. Tom, what happened?

And the Giants!?! How about that nonsense? Losing by 30 in the first quarter and then scoring as many points in the 4th and still not pulling off a win? I just like to see Eli Manning--the whiniest looking Manning in the triumverate-- in pain.

But the best was Jeremy Shockey's seemingly endless locker room "interview" where he shit talked his way into a hole in a "momentary" lack of judgement: "We were outplayed...and outcoached; you can write that down..."

Abbondanza!

Hungry? I bet you are! You're looking at a couple of delicious whole wheat pita mini pizzas made right here in the Two Can Anne Kitchen. How did I make them? Here's the recipe:

Turn your oven broiler up to...well, broil. That's like, as high as it can go. 500 something? Ok, wait for the oven to heat up and lightly brush pita bread with some extra virgin olive oil and a pinch of kosher salt.

When the oven is nice and hot, put the pitas in the bottom broiler, just for a second to crisp up before you put on the sauce. You don't want a soggy pizza. While they're lightly toasting, go into the bedroom and make the bed. Wait until you're about to smooth out the blanket (and before you fluff up the comforter, approximately 3 minutes) and then return to the kitchen which is now completely filled with smoke. Open up the broiler to find flames engulfing the pita breads and licking at the exterior of the oven.

Freak out.

Go to shut the oven door for a second, and then realize it's probably not a good idea to let it burn out in there. Consider throwing tap water on it, and then remember that you're not supposed to throw water on a fire, it does nothing. Take box of kosher salt and throw it on fire. Fast. Turn off oven.

And you're done! Voila! Put them on the counter and take a picture of them. Offer them to Doodle. When she declines, throw them in the trash and start over with a new pita, this time only using the heat from the oven which almost caught on fire and destroyed your apartment building.

Eat and enjoy. Then consider that new toaster you have your eye on. For everyone's sake.