Sunday, December 31, 2006

Doodle Wishes You All a Happy New Year!

Every year is a good year for Doodle! May you be as lucky!
thanks for your continued love and support in 2007. don't be lame.
stay gay,
Gregg Allman - I'm No Angel

2006 was the year of the devil. I'll try to be more angelic in 2007. Happy New Year, Everyone!

What are You Doing, New Year's, New Year's Eve?

This question always bites.

I'll be totally potted and potted face first in a potted plant at the Waldorf when the clock strikes midnight. A fitting way to wind up the year 2006. That When Harry Met Sally bullshit ending is really bullshit, isn't it?

How about a short list of awkward shit I've said to people in 2006 called

A Short List of Awkward Shit I've Said to People in 2006?

  • I commented on a school photo of this friend of mine and said that he had a huge head and thankfully he grew into it. He was like, "What are you talking about?" And I assumed that a melonhead like that must know to some degree how large his head is, but I guess he doesn't, so that was awkward.

  • At Katie's Bakery (a local bakery run out of Katie's kitchen) to pick up some Christmas dinner pie orders, I said, "Wow, Katie, your kitchen smells wonderful! If I lived here, I'd weigh 400 lbs." Which I meant as a nice cheerful compliment, but as I said it, Katie's 400 lb husband walked in the room. So, you know, awkward.

  • I blamed a fart on my sister at the dinner table in front of guests in Vermont. I totally called her out and she protested and I made her open up all the windows. But it actually wasn't her. It was one of our guests. He totally owned up to it. Yes, hilarious and awkward on all levels. I could have sworn it was one of my sister's rips.

  • I had a shouting match with the night manager of this dinky neighborhood drugstore. He was being a huge dick to me about the stupid ghetto photocopier machine in the back. On my way out I said shit like, "I'm one of your best customers! I'm never shopping here again! You can kiss my business goodbye and my ass while you're at it, you fucking prick!" A proud exit like that and I stayed away about a week. I just pull my hat down over my eyes a bit now. I don't think he recognizes me. Do you think he recognizes me?

Happy New Year, kids. Here's to shutting my pie hole a bit in 2007.

The P&G Bar, Upper West Side

The P&G Cafe and Bar, NYC, 12/30/06

Last year it was McHale's in Times Square and now sadly, The P&G Bar's days are numbered as well. If you've never been, it can be described as a comfortable, classic, 1940's old man's pub with a dark wood bar and cozy booths, delightfully situated around the corner from the Beacon Theater that does not smell like old men or worse. I've been going to P&G before and after Beacon shows for years (last night's show, The Mississippi All Stars & Gov't Mule). But P&G is now another victim of ubiquitous citywide gentrification. Someone must have made them an offer they can't refuse. In the next year, it'll become a Starbucks or whatevs. Goddamned coffee. Why are you so inexpensive and delicious? I hope someone rescues the neon so it doesn't end up in a dumpster. I wonder whatever happened to the McHale's neon?

One of my favorite parts about this place is the ladies room. Modest and with old fixtures and a hook and eye for a lock, it's always kept clean and well stocked considering the state of most ladies rooms in bars; I've seen much fouler cans in hip clubs. Mounted above the sink is the real gem: A 1940s hand dryer. It's bigger than a bread box, it's metal painted dark green. It's on switch is one of those old timey light switches that makes a heavy flick sound when you flick it, and on either side of the interior are these lights that flash on when you put your hand between them and a ear drum splitting blast of high powered air scares the piss out of you if you haven't already pissed. The air blows on your mits for as long as you keep them between the lights. Oh, dinosaur hand dryer, I'll miss you.

Apparently they don't have one of these machines in the men's room. This is no surprise. Once I had a boyfriend who didn't wash his hands everytime he took a poop. Now he's super wealthy and is married to some other broad and they just had a baby. Whenever I start feeling sorry for myself, I remember, he doesn't wash his hands everytime he takes a poop. In other words, Some Other Broad's Problem.

Friday, December 29, 2006

Yoooooky Cookie

I just took a bite of a cookie that I had in the refrigerator. It tastes like refrigerator. Bloooccchie cookie. Blooochhh.
Free To Be...You and Me: Ladies First

One of my most indelible memories from Free To Be You and Me (the album + book) and most likely my demise.
The Electric Company - As Is

Take it or leave it, baby.

3 Dog Night

A 24K Gold Casket For the Godfather of Soul

I would have chosen chocolate. Just as soft as 24K gold, tastier and totally biodegradable.

Thursday, December 28, 2006

There Was No Room at the Inn, You See

Altman Tradition at Christmas: The Setup of the family heirloom, the "Creche."
On coffee:

During Happy Hour:

Time to go to bed:

For reals.

Electric Company- R car skit

You Go, Girrrrrrrl!

Doodle's Focused on Personal Freedom

Doodle, 12/ 23/06

Doodle in 2008

Doodle, in a rare scene of submission, snuggling entirely reluctantly, VT, 12/23/06

You all know by now that Doodle has officially thrown her witch hat in the ring for the 2008 Presidential Race. I got a chance to speak with her as she was on her way down from the top of the microwave to repose herself atop of the sofa and take a bath. Here is a an exclusive sneak peek at her plan to make America better for America:
  • Iraq War: Lame. We're spending billions of dollars, supposedly killing the enemy on their soil --and putting our troops in harm's way-- when we could be spending next to nothing and killing billions of the enemy on our own soil? The War on Mice is a war we can win-- and have fun doing it. Bring home the troops now and let's start murdering. For reals.
  • Stem Cell Research: Can we clone mice for the sheer purpose of murdering? Okay, then.
  • Raising Minimum Wage: Look, if it's gonna get Anne a few more bucks to buy better shit for me to eat, then great. I'm all for it. And how about a bigger apartment or at least a paint job? This place is a dump.
  • Trans-fats Ban: Gay.
  • Gay Marriage: Whatevs. I've got bigger fish to fry and mice to murder.
  • Organized Religion: The Bible's all "An eye for an eye" and I'm more of an "An eye for no eye" broad, so I can't say I buy into the hype.
  • Running Mate: Too early to say. I was thinking of Anne, but she's very Black Sheep, you know? She says stupid shit all the time. Ruins stuff for herself with that mouth of hers. Probably not a smart move public relations-wise, you know, to be associated with that ass clown, but it does depend on the bribe.

Vermont: A Beautiful Place to Rust

Hardwick, VT

Her Sweet Sixteen

If you've never seen My Sweet Sixteen on MTV and you want to keep it that way, let me give you the synopsis of every episode I've ever seen (3).

  1. The 16 year old-to-be is terrible.
  2. She usually excels at school or sports but that's not required for parental spoilage.
  3. She's given the credit card for a no holds barred shopping spree with her friends.
  4. She is sometimes heinous looking or husky and finding that dress can be tough. A few dresses are purchased for costume changes throughout the night.
  5. The giving out of the invitations at school is a fun time humiliating exercise for all.
  6. She makes sure to repeat several times that the party will be the best ever, and it will go down in history as being the best party ever.
  7. She usually has a professional photo shoot with slutty poses.
  8. She goes shopping with her Dad for a car, sits in several BMWs, he says "Don't get your hopes up, there's a 50/50 chance..." and she walks out with a pout on her face.
  9. She learns some dance moves and hires dancers or other themed performers and tries to secure a celebrity for the party.
  10. Hair and makeup done professionally, usually there is some crying about the hair.
  11. She makes her entrance and the kids whoop and holler and it's awkward and her name is up in lights somewhere
  12. More awkward teen crap including dancing and shouting into the camera about what a cool party it is
  13. Kids without an invitation (including other schools) show up and try to get in the party and Sweet Sixteen and her entourage (including her mother) tell them to go away, they don't know them, and they're not dressed well enough for entrance.
  14. Dad comes out to make a speech about the car he bought for his daughter, will point to an "old beater" (like a 2002 Volvo) which is parked outside and everyone sighs and frowns, then Dad parts the seas of kids to reveal the real vehicle, the BMW with a huge bow on it.
  15. The end is disappointing because she doesn't get murdered.

There you go.

Play the Nose Hair Game

You know how the old saying goes, ""Wie pijn wil lijden moet eens proberen mooi te worden!"

An AA Mantra (the other AA)

"Keep doing what you're doing and you'll keep getting what you're getting."

Sounds Dr. Phil-ish as well. I like it. I'm going to do different stuff, so I'll get different stuff.

Doodle Joins 2008 Presidential Race

Doodle is the Fourth Democrat To Announce a 2008 Bid.

I believe I'm a registered Independent. Don't tell Doodle.

Game Night at Anne's With Saddam Hussein

Normally it's Twister, but this time I think I'll have his favorite food catered (fresh gazelle and Cheetos), and we'll play a simple round of hangman.

He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother

Indian Court declares the elephant equal to human beings. Yay!

Well, they're halfway there. Elephants are better than human beings. Read about this and other weird Indian stuff here. Link compliments of newbluebaby.

In My Next Life

When I do highschool over again, I want to be a tall, attractive white male with blue eyes who is a star quarterback with a successful future in college and professional football. None of this petite female bullshit.

If I can't do that, then I'd like to come back as Doodle.

One of those two things.

I've been watching too many VHI Two-a-Days. And too much Doodle sleeping on the sofa.

Wednesday, December 27, 2006

It's the Eye of the Doodle

Doodle in a Vermont Winter Sky, 12/22/06

It Gives You That Funny Feeling

You know the one, where you realize you haven't checked your cellphone for messages in a few days--let alone seen your cellphone in a few days--so you grab it only to find that there are no messages for you?

In 36 hours?


You know, funny. Funny like you could choke on a Pepperidge Farm Cheddar Goldfish and not be found for a few weeks and when they do you're all bloated and there's flies and shit buzzing around.

Hilarious! Hahahahahaha!

Walk This Way

What: A Walk
When: Thursday, 12/21/06, 11 a.m.
Which: The 3.6
Who: Mom and Anne
Weather: Clear, Crisp, 20s
What: A Walk
When: 12/23/06, Saturday, 1 p.m.
Which: The 3.6
Who: Me, Aaron, (pictured) Sis, and Mom
Weather: Spitting Rain, 30s
What: First Annual Altman Christmas Day Walk
When: 12/25/06, Monday, 12 p.m.
Which: 'Round the Lake (7+ miles*; We got to 4.6 )
Who: Me, Mom, Sis (pictured)
Weather: Mixed Sun/Clouds, 30s

What: The First Annual Altman Rescue Brigade for the First Annual Altman Christmas Day Walk
When: Christmas Day, 2ish pm
Who: Barney McGoogle
Weather: Mixed Sun/Clouds, 30s with a bout of Crazy coming in from Crazy Town, of all places...

*We've walked and biked these miles in other seasons, just so you know. Stop thinkin' you're so great, Lance Armstrong. This time we happened to be goofing around a little bit at the Summer People Cemetery and we found a good place to make echoes across the lake. Even though our mother left us in the dust at that point, it was important that we shout stupid shit across the lake and have it boomerang back to us. So, so what if a lunatic in a creepy hat drove by and offered us a ride? No big deal. He's related to us. We had to take the ride. Plus, he has a car and stuff. Stop judging.

2007's Gonna Be My Year

I say that every year.

It's never my year.

Helpful Hints to Make You Look Smarter (Even if Y'aint)

Let's say your name is Sullivan. You have a husband and a few kids. You want to send out a Christmas card. Collectively. As a family.


The Sullivan's
55 American Dream Way
Everything's Awesome, USA 55555
The Sullivans
55 American Dream Way
Everything's Awesome, USA 55555
Well, what if you want to put a sign on your front door, telling the world that you, the Sullivans, collectively, live there?
House sign should read: The Sullivans.
What about a personalized mailbox for the Sullivans?
Mailbox should read: The Sullivans.
Some of you may be saying, "But, but, but, what about my apostrophe???" To you, I say, you can shove that apostrophe up your ass. Err on the side of never using it again. You don't need it unless you're stating ownership, like the Sullivan's garage. The Sullivan's backyard. The Sullivan's front door ornamental wreath with dried flowers and country blue ducks glue gunned on it.
But you will rarely need this form of punctuation, the apostrophe. It's not even used in the sentence "The Sullivans are stupid" which is exactly what you're saying when you say Sullivan's. When in doubt, take it out. Especially if you're a teacher. It just looks bad. And everyone knows that looks matter more than anything else in this world, even love.

Remembering Gerald Ford

The news is abuzz with up-to-the-minute updates about the late Gerald Ford. What could be new? The dude died! Unless of course, there is a big coming back to life ceremony or something. I just watched a news conference featuring George H. Bush and his wife Babs and their son Jeb which was supposedly set up to comment on the death of Gerald Ford and after Babs kept adjusting the microphone annoyingly (I see where GW gets his smarmy giggle) G.H. said a sentence about Ford and then spent the rest talking about golf and inviting Jeb to talk about himself. Nice tribute, George.

Gerald Ford Fun Fact: He was the longest living American president.

Fellini's Amarcord

Amazing movie. Supposedly based on Fellini's childhood experience in Rimini in the 1930's. Beautifully shot, the dialogue is funny, poignant, witty, sad and the flick paints a colorful picture of what it was like to live in Mussolini's Italy.

Say Goodbye to The Godfather and The President

James Brown and former President Gerald Ford: may they rest in peace. It's sad when people die over the holidays. But I guess it's no less sad to die on other days.

I don't remember much about President Ford, I was more of a Jimmy Carter kid. I was mad about him even if I didn't understand his politics and really only remembered the peanuts and his brother Billy (and that Silly Billy Beer).

I perfected an illustration of Jimmy's face which featured his huge teeth. I used to draw it all the time. I remember drawing one of my "Jimmy Carters" when I went to visit my baby sister for the first time in the hospital. I drew a few peanuts in there for good measure. I also did some illustrations of Connie Chung, my other muse at the time. Then I recall that we remembered to take my sister home but accidentally left the drawings in my mom's hospital room. I was sorta pissed about that.

Green Bean Casserole Anyone?

Campbell's must have had a surplus of Cream of Whatever soup this year, because they were pushing this casserole hard core on the commercials. Topped with fried onion bits. An American tradition for 50 years. Hmm. Really? Make it! I wonder if this is what my grandmother used to call her "Green Bean Tureen." She'd bring it to the church socials. It always suprised her that it didn't move much. Double hmmmm...

Home Whatever Home

Doodle gazing at the discarded Xmas tree, snowflakes falling, and stray bird of prey

Merry Christmas, bitches! Have a good time? Great! Yeah, we're home. Doodle's been in the bag for close to twelve hours, and I came home to a pound of bills and strange Christmas cards from people I haven't heard from in years: yes, it's a typical annoying holiday travel day.

Forms of transportation used today: a car, a plane, a shuttle van, a shuttle bus, my own two clompers for a dozen blocks "Last Day in Vermont" always bites, no matter what. It's so friggin' great up there, we never want to go home no matter the season. Just look at Doodle in this picture: totally, totally bummed. Add this general bummer to the Day After Christmas and you have yourself a serious kerfuffle.

Whether you're sad about saying goodbye to family or totally stoked about that idea (and you have been basically since you arrived) the coming home part of travelling is always lame. You're rushed, you're delayed, there's traffic, people suck--all kinds of shit will contribute to your feeling desperately in need of a vacation immediately after your "vacation."

I need a vacation from Christmas vacation, but it was a great Christmas.

Ten Good Time Charlie Moments From an Altman Vermont Christmas 2006:

  1. Doodle is awesome, respected her curfew (most likely due to chilly weather and lack of plentiful prey), came home at appropriate hours and used the toilet like a champ
  2. A wild animal found her Christmas deer antlers in her carrying case, which stored in the garage, and destroyed them. Did everything but ingest them. Doodle is not bummed about this. We were, because she looked so cute in them. We hung them on the tree and Doodle sniffed them for days. We're thinking skunk.
  3. It snowed (and stuck) the day after Christmas. It fell in huge fluffy flakes after midnight on Christmas Day. Whip and I, like Sally, prefer January snowflakes but we'll take what we can get.
  4. I was not constipated (unlike Thanksgiving)
  5. I did not recieve the Time Life Soft Rock CD Collection, but I did get the Electric Company DVD Box Set from Whip and it is amazing. And to think I didn't even ask for it. Lesson? No. I will still ask for shit. Where is my Time Life Soft Rock CD Collection?
  6. Food, folks, "fun" (booze)
  7. The Altman 4 sat down for a good old fashioned family quality time board game (although "fun" was involved)
  8. The You Bet Your Life with Grouch Marx DVD Box Set--a rare something the Altman family can enjoy together. Highly recommended
  9. We 3 broads embarked on a First Ever and Possibly Annual Christmas Day walk around the lake (7+ miles) and gave my father the instructions to pick us up if we weren't home in 2 hours. We were making good time but fucked around here and there taking pictures and finding echoes near the lake to shout stupid stuff and, well, needless to say, Mom, sis and I weren't home in two hours. Dad eventually drove by us wearing the Red Baron flying/driving a model T with no windshield/motorcycle side car type of leather cap (with the built in goggles) cap he opened that morning from my crazy uncle. He had a really goofy look on his face, drove by us really slowly with his tongue out like a retard and went half a mile before he turned around. It was hilarious, even if he admitted he didn't wear it the whole way
  10. Willie Nelson and Carlos Santana's "They All Went to Mexico"
  11. No church was involved in this Christmas Celebration, though Christ was involved to a degree (even if it was in a heated moment, his name shouted from the top of a ladder in a tree trimming situation)
  12. Last, but not least: The 2007 Doodle Calendar WAS a great gift! It brought smiles to several faces. It's impossible not to grin when you look at this thing. Order yours today here!

Two hurdles down, one to go: Happy Pre Happy New Year, folks! 2007 means: just 3 more years of the googly oogly glitter oversized sunglasses, so make sure to buy yourself a pair! 2010 isn't gonna work as well visibility wise. Unless your eyes are wide spread apart, and I've seen this, so perhaps 2010 is your year!

Saturday, December 23, 2006

Correction to Yesterday's Post

  1. I did not take any pictures of Doodle's crap (though there is probably a market for that somewhere down the line depending on her level of fame)
  2. The walks are 3.6 miles a piece, not 2.5. SO, including today's walk, I've been 10+ miles and I can feel it in every muscle and bone. Hilly rough terrain 'round these parts. Ouch-eroni. Fitness is gay.

Today it's overcast and raining. Boo. No white Christmas for us unless there's a Christmas Miracle! Bbbbbbbppppppffffffftttt!

Doodle is out and about hunting some stuff; we let her out after breakfast. I'm going to go look for her in the barn now. Perhaps she's there resting on her fainting couch next to the mouse skeleton buddy she killed two summers ago. Ahhh, buddies. Everyone needs one.

Friday, December 22, 2006

Merry Christmas From Vermont

Hey, kids! How's things? Vermont is nice. 30s, yesterday, 20s today. Not much snow, just an old dusting from a week ago or so. Yes, global warming has hit the Northeast Kingdom. I suppose if the polar ice caps are melting, we can't expect much different this far "south" right? All I know is that the lake hasn't frozen over at all, the snow blower places are seriously hurting for business, and the ski marathon which normally happens up here this time of year is on hold. Ah, well.

What we've done so far:

  1. Dragged the tree from the garage and put it in the stand in the living room
  2. Took out all the window screens and put them in the basement
  3. Put a few storm windows in a few doors
  4. Took two 2.5 mile walks
  5. Went to bed at 8 p.m. last night (the shortest day of the year)
  6. Did a little shopping at Willey's Store
  7. Doodle spent the first night locked in the basement
  8. Doodle spent a few hours yesterday and today in the barn
  9. Doodle took a huge crap in the master bathroom toilet this morning
  10. I've taken several photos

Tonight my sis, her boyfriend and my Dad arrive. Yay! May your holiday travels be speedy and not annoying, everyone.

Merry Christmas!

Wednesday, December 20, 2006

Doodle's a Masshole

For the next hour, anyway. This morning I stuffed her in a bag and stuffed that bag on a plane and voila, here we are in Beantown. My mother picked up us from the airport and this afternoon we've been busy with mall-related activities including--but not limited to--Marshalls, the eye glasses place, Whole Foods, and the gas station. Neither Doodle or I really found anything good at Marhshall's though I may be fighting for ownership of a pair of boots my mother bought.

Anyhoodle, we're off to Vermont tonight for a week of Yuletide Whatevs. Most of you will be off to your destinations in the next few days as well, and I wish you the merry-erriest! I had some lovely photos to post of Doodle last night but my computer was acting like an a-hole. Like a lot of people in the airport this morning. Hey dude, just because you have an easy to reach carry on, and the plane isn't full, and your time is more valuable than everyone else's, it doesn't mean that you can rush to the front of the plane as soon as it stops, like you're gonna get off first, because you're not. You're a tool. See you in baggage claim.

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

2006's Eeewwww-iest Christmas Card Ever

Let's say that you're a big deal in the media business. Not on t.v., but behind the scenes, in advertising, where the real money is made in mega base salaries and ridiculous bonuses. You're well-respected in the field, a leader in the industry. Let's say you're so loaded that you can afford to take your family to exotic places for Christmas or Chanuka or whatevs.

Let's say that all of this is so.

Does then your holiday card feature a photo of a shirtless you flanked by your two kids in an enormous vanishing-edge pool in the tropics? With your chest bare and your fur wet and matted down? And this is your card? That you send to your clients and vendors and people with whom you work? So that it gets tacked up on their bulletin boards along with the Santa and Christmas Tree and Snowmen and Dreidel and Joy to the World cards? So that everytime I walk by it I want to barf? Because I never cared to know your chest hair pattern? And you're gross?

Ok. Thanks. Bye.

I don't know who is was, perhaps your wife (who is not pictured) did not think this one through. And thankfully she didn't, so that we have an official Eeewwwwiest Christmas Card Ever for 2006.

Mortified on E!

E! caught the Mortified bug and is promoting it somehow. No interviews or clips as far as the producer knows, but those in showbiz know, press is press is press, people. The word "mortified" could be scrawled across a bathroom mirror in caca and it's press all the same*.

So, if you find yourself at home one of these nights, stoned out of your bean, look out for the following:

Mortified will air on E!:

-Tuesday @ 730pm and 1130pm
-Wednesday @ 830am and 1230pm

*Though obvs a clip of me reading my piece would be way more palatable, let's face it. Unless you're into doo.

Dick in a Green Track Jacket

Anne in a bar fight? You bet. It happens.

Who: Anne & Bumpkyn vs Hipster Dick in a Green Track Jacket
What: Bar Fight
Where: Corner Bistro, NYC
When: Last Night
Why: Guy in Green Track Jacket Was an Unbelievable Dick
How: Respectably

Ok. So, I'm really a lover not a fighter. But since I hate people, and people make it easy for me to hate them, sometimes they do the wrong thing, and words need to be exhanged. Bumpkyn's husband, Ladies Man, prefers to eat rather than to drink, and he sat in back for a few burgers while we had a few beers at the bar. Some hipster thought we were using Ladies Man's stool as a hat rack and asked if he could sit down. We explained that Ladies Man would be returning at some point but of course hipster could use the stool in the meantime.

In that process, beer (not blood) was spilled. Ladies Man's beer was tipped over, and the hipster apologized. Bumpkyn made a joke that it was precious liquid, a sarcastic but jovial remark about how the beer was non-alchoholic. Which it was.

Enter the Hipster Dick in Green Track Jacket.

Picture him: Slight build, 5'8", ironic tee under green track jacket, stupid hat, cocky attitude, early/mid twenties, no respect for women.

HDIGTJ: (semi audibly to us) Get over it.
Anne: Excuse me?
HDIGTJ: (no eye contact, semi mumbling to his crowd) It's the holidays, get over it.
Bumpkyn: What?
HDIGTJ: Get over it.
Anne: That's not nice.
HDIGTJ: Whatever. Hey. (to bartender). Lemme have a Sapphire and Tonic.
Bartender: That's 7 dollars.
HDIGTJ: Great price.
Bartender: Make that 8.
Bumpkyn: You don't have to be such a dick.
HDIGTJ: (not audible. )
Anne: Your friend spilled the beer and apologized. Why are you mouthing off?
HDIGTJ: (comes over) Where are you guys from?
Anne: Here. What does that matter?
HDIGTJ: I was born in Brooklyn. Lived in LA for 7 years. Glad to be back.
Anne: So that explains why you're such a dick.
HDIGTJ: (tries to put his arm on Bumpkyn's shoulder, and she shakes him violently off)
Anne: You haven't even apologized.
HDIGTJ: Apologized?
Anne and Bumpkyn: Yes.
HDIGTJ: For what?
Anne: For being a dick.
HDIGTJ: (to me) Well, I'll apologize to you because you have a pretty face.
Anne: What? Unbelievable.
---now is where a beer should have been poured on this guy's head but we were out of beer--
HDIGTJ: (tries to recover) And to her, for having a strong arm (regarding the punch.)
Anne: Lame.
HDIGTJ: What are your names?
Anne: Anne and Bumpkyn. What's yours?
HDIGTJ: (don't remember what he said). Ok, I'm sorry, ok? (like a dick)
Anne: Uh-huh.
HDIGTJ: (says more dickish things I can't recall)
Anne and Bumpkyn: (fuming, wishing we had a beer to pour on his head, a beer that he should have purchased for us when he apologized)

While HDIGTJ's back was turned to have a dickish conversation with his fellow hipsters, his friend again apologized, "I'm sorry about my friend."

Anne and Bumpkyn: Uh huh. (still fuming)

At this point, not knowing where to channel our anger or how to "win" this fight, Ladies Man approached from the back of the restaurant. I'd say, to save the day, but he didn't know his wife was in the middle of a nasty bar brawl.

Anne and Bumpkyn to Ladies Man: This guy is a huge dick. He's mean! You need to meet him!
Bumpkyn: Yeah! He's being mean to your wife!
Anne: Yeah!

We were leaving, putting on our coats, unsatisfied with the brawl's outcome. Though it was dignified, this kid was begging for violence to be waged on his face. If we couldn't have violence, it was imperative that Ladies Man, at least be introduced to HDIGTJ.

I tap HDIGTJ on the shoulder, "I want you to meet someone." HDIGTJ swings around to meet a Ladies Man.

All 300 lbs and 6' 8" of him.

HDIGTJ extends his hand. Upwards. Hi. I'm (whatever his name is). (face reveals pants shitting expression)
Ladies Man: You're ugly.
HDIGTJ: (speechless)

We leave. Sure, I would have loved it for Ladies Man to have had to pull me off of HDIGTJ as I was pummeling him so that Ladies Man could have delivered the final fatal blow, but the look on HDIGTJ's was worth every penny of dignity we retained.

'Tis good to have a big guy around.

Trump Gives Miss USA, Tara Conner a Second Chance


Tara is giving a riveting interview on MSNBC right now. She can keep her throne but not her coke spoon. Bittersweet, bittersweet.

A Murray Little Christmas at Comix

Murray Hill in all His Glory with the Murray-ettes and dashing Lance Cruce on piano

Va Va Voommmmm, it's Miss Dirty Martini!

The Wau Wau Sisters Wow. Wow.

Murray and 1/3 of the Pontani Sisters (she's pregnant with twins bwt, HOT)

Me, Lance, Murray and Julia Wright

I Love Doodle So Much

And she is so goddamned cute, that sometimes --ok, all the time---I threaten to kill her with hugs and kisses.

So cute that I endure the face full of fur and hives that smothering her with love (properly) entails.

Yes, I am one of the lucky ones whom she "lets" manhandle her, and let me tell you somethin', it ain't easy. You thought these Angelina Jolie lips were natural? You can thank an allergic reaction for this look. It's ok, the swelling will go down before I have to go to work.

Doodle: She ain't easy to love, she really makes you work, but she's worth it, by golly, she's worth it, I tell ya.

And if the picture above doesn't make you smile, you're dead inside. Either that, or you don't understand Doodle, and I can understand that.

Monday, December 18, 2006

I Am Pathetic

Why? Because I'm
  1. Sympathetic
  2. Empathetic

And last but not least, the sight of this* made me sad. And I hate these things. Sure, I realize it's not a real snowman. And even if it was a real snowman, I realize just because it has a face, does not mean it can feel pain. Nonetheless, I hurt.

I'm so fucked up.

*Friggin' angry males. Whether it's the mosh pit at GWAR, the Knicks / Nuggets brawl, lighting homeless people on fire, or punching a blow up Christmas decoration, it's always angry dudes. There must be something more positive we can do with all this extra testosterone.

Don't Lie

You know you totally licked the Candy Land game board at some point. Be it thirty years ago or last week. Incidentally, the vintage Candy Land game was way more lickable. More realistic looking chocolate waterfalls and gum drop whatevers.


Most times you find that a song has fantastic music or a great beat but the lyrics suck. Here's an example of an amazing song with the crappiest music. Enter Dan Fogelberg's "Same Old Lang Syne." It's been on the radio 10x already today and it's the whiniest whine of all time, but give it a read and I suppose the whining makes sense, as it's real life:

Met my old lover in the grocery store
The snow was falling christmas eve
I stole behind her in the frozen foods
And I touched her on the sleeve

She didnt recognize the face at first
But then her eyes flew open wide
She went to hug me and she spilled her purse
And we laughed until we cried.

We took her groceries to the checkout stand
The food was totalled up and bagged
We stood there lost in our embarrassment
As the conversation dragged.

We went to have ourselves a drink or two
But couldnt find an open bar
We bought a six-pack at the liquor store
And we drank it in her car.

We drank a toast to innocence
We drank a toast to now
And tried to reach beyond the emptiness
But neither one knew how.

She said shed married her an architect
Who kept her warm and safe and dry
She would have liked to say she loved the man
But she didnt like to lie.

I said the years had been a friend to her
And that her eyes were still as blue
But in those eyes I wasnt sure if I saw
Doubt or gratitude.

She said she saw me in the record stores
And that I must be doing well
I said the audience was heavenly
But the traveling was hell.

We drank a toast to innocence
We drank a toast to now
And tried to reach beyond the emptiness
But neither one knew how.

We drank a toast to innocence
We drank a toast to time
Reliving in our eloquence
Another auld lang syne...

The beer was empty and our tongues were tired
And running out of things to say
She gave a kiss to me as I got out
And I watched her drive away.

Just for a moment I was back at school
And felt that old familiar pain
And as I turned to make my way back home
The snow turned into rain --

Stripper Pole via the North Pole?

If you didn't buy your stripper pole for your pre-pubescent little girl for Christmas yet, too late! The pesky Family Values Police have taken it off the market. Now you're going to have to turn your kid into a self-loathing sex object the old fashioned way, with the time consuming (albeit tried and true) techniques of abuse, neglect, and beauty pageants. Ahh, well.

Doodle Doesn't Like Accessories Either

You just know this guy was trying to put a wig and necklace on this thing and it rebelled. Doodle would so high five this snake if she read this.

Doodle, are you reading this? Hey, doesn't a nap sound like a good idea?

A Murray Little Christmas

No Tavern on the Green, Macy's windows or Rockettes for me this year, folks. I'm getting into the holiday spirit with Murray Hill (read more about him here) "the hardest working middle-aged man in show business" complete with delightful t&a at A Murray Little Christmas!


Don't be, because I didn't get you anything this year, so...truce?


According to the MSNBC crawl I just saw here at the office, kids under ten named God :

The #10 most important thing in their lives.

Followed by:
  1. Celebrity
  2. Being good looking
  3. Being rich

Anyone want to guess what 4-9 are? Since I can't find the original poll with the answers, you might as well take a stab at it.


Makes me want to cry
And not in a good way
I'm not gonna lie
Why does he exist?

How Much Are Babies Goin' For These Days?

I chatted with a friend of mine at a party this weekend, and it turns out that he and his husband are seriously considering moving to New Jersey to a gay family friendly community and acquiring some kids.

I learned a lot about the baby market, and what I didn’t fully realize is just how free adoption isn’t, folks. If you can’t make a baby yourself, and were curious how much it would be to buy one, here’s an abridged version of the general price points:

Male......................Caucasian, Blue Eyes..................250K
Male......................Caucasian, Brown Eyes..............200K
Female .................Caucasian, Blue Eyes................. 175K
Female .................Caucasian, Brown Eyes............. 125K
Female .................Chinese........................................ 100K
Male......................African American...........................75K
Female..................Chinese with Cleft Palate.............Free

If you like the idea of free Chinese baby girl without the cleft palate, you might want to sit downstream of the Li river with a big net and catch one yourself. And now that they've got that one dog rule, you might find a nice pooch in the net too. Insta-family! Now all you need is love.

Man, I Thought Monday Would Never Come

Doodle is disgusted by the Knicks brawl, thrilled about the Bills win, saddened to hear about the dead Mt. Hood climber, and totally stoked about her trip to Vermont for Christmas.

Saturday, December 16, 2006

Don't Hate Me Because I Don't Send Christmas Cards

Yeah. Hate me because I'm beautiful, but not because I don't send Christmas cards. I can't help the beauty, it has nothing to do with me. But the cards, well, that has everything to do with me.

I used to, when I hadn't lost hope and had stuff about my life to update you on. But there's a certain point in a childless single woman's life when sending a card with her only prized possession, her cat, is considered pathetic. I could send a card featuring a photo of my parents, but that's just weird. Not weirder than sending a card featuring a photo of ugly* children, but... that's another story.

You'll have perfectly happy holidays without hearing from me, so just deal with it. Thanks. Bye.

*If you think that love might be blinding your judgement, get a second opinion. To send a card with a fug kid on it is mean: to the recipient and the kid. If you can't get a second opinion, take a picture of of their backs. You know, a shot of the kids admiring the tree or something.

Friday, December 15, 2006

From Crudite to Crude-a-Yay!

Someone asked why anyone would want to live in NYC. My answer can be explained in pictures.

I started off my evening Thursday night uptown here:

Upper East Side Penthouse

And ended up downtown here:

GWAR! GWAR! GWAR! GWAR! at Irving Plaza


And then later...

GWAR Tour Bus

Me n' Bob on the GWAR Bus aka The H.M.S. Stink Tube

Oh, only in New York. ONLY IN NEW YORK!

Some People Call Her a Spaz Cowboy

Where my crack at?

Doodle, 12/06

S-S-S-S-S-Sex Tips For The Curious

Get on top, be on the bottom, put a donut on your ding dong; there's all kinds of stuff to try out there.

Or in this case, avoid:

"A 12th century Sikh text, the Koke Shastra, warns men against: 'Redheads. Any girl named after a mountain, a tree, a river or a bird...Any girl with inverted nipples, a beard, uneven breasts, flap ears, spindle legs...Girls whose big toes are disproportionately small. Girls who make the ground shake when they walk past.' "

Sounds reasonable to me.

I Know a Guy Named Stoney Baloney

He's as fun as a box of macaroni, but Bob was like, "How much fun could a box of macaroni be?"

I Am Extremely Susceptible to Informercials

Sure, I may not buy, but...well, let's just say that I best not watch t.v. under the influence of intoxicants. We all remember the Bagless Stick Shark Incident, don't we? Especially the part when I was talked into purchasing extra filters? Oh, the horror.

Anyway, something about these Hercules Hooks makes me think that they would change my life for the better.

Those and a portable hot roller set to add bounce and body to my hair.

Hercules Hooks, a portable hot roller set, and the Time Life Soft Rock CD collection.

Then I'll be happy*.

I promise*.


Table for Ewwww, Please

160 people sick after eating at Olive Garden.

"We're trying to isolate what the cause of the illness might be," said a Heath Department spokesman.


I'm no expert, but 5 dollars says Olive Garden is the cause of the illness. Or, these same suckers went to Taco Bell for lunch.

We Got a Pitcher Not a Belly Itcher

Yay! Please welcome Daisuke Matsuzaka to Red Sox Nation!

Sure, you all know I'm hilarious in that laugh at sort of way. But I do try and surround myself with talented people though--hoping it will rub off--and I'd like to share a little joke that unfortunately I can't take credit for (and neither can the writer because it will end up in the monologue of a famous late night talk show host any day now):

"The Redsox have signed Japanese pitching sensation, Daisuke Matsuzaka, for 100 million dollars. In addition to fast cars and expensive jewelry, he's looking forward to owning A-Rod."

Ha! A-Rod.


I Said I'm Famous, Not Lame-ous

That's right: More Mortified Press For YOU! Here is the link to a lovely article in the featuring yours truly (that beats the sweatpants off of that crap poo Daily News article in every way shape and form.)

Here's the tasty excerpt:

"...Next, Anne Altman took the stage, wearing a black and white dress that looked like an Escher drawing. She read from a composition book (also black and white — coincidence?), but her offerings were not diary entries. They were transcriptions of rambling, stream-of-consciousness notes passed back and forth between Altman and a popular girl named Melissa in junior high school — instant messaging 1.0. ."

"I Guess It's a Real Rarity"

...So I guess I'll eat it?

Deer with 7 legs, what? ? ?

My Day, Friday

Howdy, folks.

A few things:

  1. GWAR was great! I'm deaf in my left ear. I nicknamed their tour bus the Stink Tube for obvious reasons.
  2. I'm tired, but can sleep when I'm dead, apparently.
  3. My neighbor in the building across the street, whom I was sure was gay--because of his swanky decor, annual designer Christmas tree, and the like--was watching straight porn at 3:30 this morning.

Thursday, December 14, 2006

Did Someone Say Bugs? In Your Bed?

Here's a great article on the December 12th cover of the Village Voice, and the author is Mara Altman! (No relation). Here's also a great slide show that accompanies the article, which depicts what my apartment looks like these days. And the bug guy featured in the article, Jeff Eisenberg, is the best in NYC, the top bed bug eraser goin'. The expert whom I still may need to consult with, should my imagination run wild again. Or, should the bugs decide to show themselves. SHOW YOURSELVES, BUGS! Let's just say that Jeff is probably constructing another story on a Hamptons mansion as I type this thanks to ol' cimex lectularius.

The Real White Trash Had a Baby

Lizzie Grubman, Jewish American Princess and PR douche who famously backed her SUV into a crowd of people in a Hamptons parking lot after cursing out the bouncer (and other club employees who told her to move her car) with an "Fuck you, white trash!" has apparently spawned her own. She and her husband Chris Stern named the kid Harrison Irving Stern, which is the kind of poser name I'd expect from the real white trash they are. They're going to call him Harry. Oh yeah? Bbbbbffffffppppppppppffffttttttttttt!!!

See You In the Slave Pit

GWAR tonight at Irving Plaza. I'll be there, and I'll be square. This band cheers me up to no end. With albums titled "Scumdogs of the Universe" and "We Kill Everything" and "America Must Be Destroyed" I mean, come on; they're the feel good band of my generation. And it's that time of year for cheer, ain't it? Isn't Anne Murray opening for them on this tour? I think so.

Christmas Music Can Be Bad For Business

I was just driven out of a deli/restaurant because of the music.
"It's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you..."

Who knows. Perhaps I would have lingered longer on my lunch hour, maybe stayed to purchase a bag of pretzels or something.

Elevator Etiquette

This morning I got into the elevator with 5 people.
  1. One good looking attorney in his twenties
  2. One average looking attorney in her twenties
  3. A hideous set of male twins nerds in their twenties
  4. Someone I didnt get a good look at.

I was near the front of the elevator. On the way up, the male attorney was chatting up the female attorney about the big holiday party at their firm tonight. He has a buddy coming into town tonight, just so you guys know. He was wearing a red tie, so clearly he was more psyched about the soiree than he was letting on.

Anyway, the someone I didn't get a good look at got off first, making his way to the front of the elevator between the flirtation and the twin dorks. Then, it was the twin dorks' floor. I, being a lady and all for chrissakes, expected that if the twin dorks --who although hideous, were dressed in suits, so I assume they are professional--would be gentlemen about busting ever so rudely by me to get off the elevator.

Clearly they were not.

So, I stepped on the back of the one twin's shoe so that his foot slipped out of it, and he had to squeak out an "Excuse me."

You're excused, dork. Good luck on your Double Mint Gum interview. Fag.

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

How Many Pounds Did I Lose In Tears?

Bawling my eyes out watching NBC's The Biggest Loser Finale tonight? Talk about the biggest loser. What do I give a shit if these people changed their lives for the better by eating healthier, getting in shape, and shrinking their waistlines? What has that done for me? What do I get out of it except puffy eyes? Zippo. Goose Egg. Nada. Is the winner going to share any of that 250K with me? Sure, they're shedding pounds, but are they shedding tears for me? Exactly. So whatevs. Good grief.

Awwww, snap. Dee and Me. Photographer: very nice guy whose name escapes me because that's champagne in my hand. DeeAnne's birthday, 12/5/06. Remind me next time and say "Anne, don't do that face where you do that thing."

Meet Maurice

Me-Wow! It is with great pleasure that I introduce you all to Mr. Maurice. Doodle's got some serious furry white company in the weird bathroom habit department and clearly not the only cat to get creative in a tiled environment seeking cool shelter from NYC's summertime swelter. Maurice's human companion, Kat, is a huge fan of Doodle apparently-- and guess who is a huge fan of Maurice? Duh, me. And now you, clearly. I mean, would you check Kat's cat out? I mean, come ON! Delightfully absurd.

Maurice, anterior

Maurice, posterior

All I Want For Christmas Is The Time Life Soft Rock Collection

And for someone to explain to me the difference between Extra! and Access Hollywood. Are they not the same show? They look like the same show. They're on the same station, NBC, and they're on back to back. And if they are the same show, then why do they have different names? And if they're not the very same show, then why do they "cover" the exact same stories? And if they are the same show, then why do I watch them? And if they aren't the same show, then why am I still talking about this, and why hasn't someone thrown a rock at my head by now? Or stopped reading this? And if someone hasn't thrown a rock at my head right now and/or stopped reading this, why haven't I thrown a rock at my own head or thrown my own head into a rock? There is a perfectly nice large rock right here on my desk, good for throwing.

I've got to go.

PS Don't forget: TimeLife Soft Rock Collection DVD Box Set. Thanks.

"Mortified" The Book Pimped in This Week's the Onion

Yay! Lookit Lookit Lookit! Mortified the Book makes The Onion/AV Club's Surprisingly Specific Holiday Gift Guide! Page 2! Right here! Under the title "For That Friend Who's A Closet Voyeur!"

Everyone's a closet voyeur. And if y'aint, then y'strange. In a bad way. Or, you're simply a liar. I say, liar.

Awww, Just Like Doodle

After you're finished buying my crap, buy this crap!

Hilarious! A little Doodle-ishy Kitten Who Also Thinks of Nothing But Murder All Day! Kindred kittens.

Stuff Snapple Bottle Caps Learnt Me Today

Real Fact #111: Only male turkeys* gobble.
Real Fact #124: Seals sleep only one and a half minutes at a time**.

*Male turkeys. Duh. Redundant. All males are turkeys.
**This would render me the crankiest bitch on earth***.
***NO, I am not the crankiest bitch on earth.

Peter Boyle, RIP

I'm sad!
71 is too young!
71 is horseshit!

Oh, boo.

Peter Boyle was the coolest. Of course, I didn't know him personally, but he sure did make me laugh and impress me with his acting. Interesting fun fact: John Lennon was best man at Peter Boyle's 1977 wedding to Loraine Alterman.

Mary Poppins Ain't Heavy; She's My Sister

Today I made the mistake of borrowing from the office what seemed like an under-sized over-sized umbrella.

Boy, was I wrong. It was an over-sized, under-sized over-sized umbrella, and it made my jaunt outside at lunch in midtown one of the most unpleasant experiences with an umbrella I can ever remember. Barring the time when I was 4 and stuck the pointy end of an umbrella straight through my hand, this was the BY FAR my worst umbrella experience.

It was total bullshit. Did it blow back and forth and in and out? No. It didn't have to. That is considerably less annoying than what happened here with this douche golf umbrella. First of all, like I established, it was enormous. I could have fit 5 or 6 of my best friends under there with me. Second of all, it got all caught up in the wind and literally scooped me up off of my feet a few times, and I was holding on to the damn thing with two hands for dear friggin' life.

Anyway, it sucked. I didn't even use it on my return trip. I would have tossed it into the windshield of that rude taxi that cut me off in the intersection (after I wacked his headlight with it of course) but it wasn't mine.

Umbrellas can suck it. For reals.

Mad Hatter

I left my brand new, smokin' hot Cha Cha's House of Ill Repute chapeau at a pub-style establishment last night on a hook underneath the bar. Let's take bets on whether or not I will get it back.

1) Yes.

2) No.

3) I'm an idiot.

4) Mexican delivery boy with a small cranium like mine now has a new hat and he looks great.

5) Dumb blonde with huge cranium like mailbox thinks she has a new hat and she looks stupid.

6) Some of the above.

7) None of the above.

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

Today's Yogi Tea Says

Self reliance conquers any difficulty.

Mr. Telephone Man

Dear Mr. Telephone Man,

So nice to have you install the new telephone yesterday. Why? Well, because you're obviously a fantastic technician. Oh, and because I think you're smokin' hot. Plus, you just seem like a really nice person. Thankfully, there was a problem with my phone and you came back today. It could have easily been the other guy, but it was you. Terrific. Unfortunately, I haven't figured out where to stalk you as of yet, but I did manage to jot down the name on your building pass sticker. I expect a lot of problems with this phone. See you later!



Monday, December 11, 2006

Oh, For Chrissakes

This is SO annoying. Wasn't Jesus a Jew in "real" life? Considering that, wouldn't a Christmas tree kill two partrigdes anyway? I'm all for killing a few birds with one decoration, if you ask me. The whole ritual of Christmas tree is pagan--not Christian-- in the first place, goddamn it. Everyone needs to calm the heck down and deck the halls with whatevs.

Who In the Human Race Wants a Punch in the Face?

Who in the human race
Wants a punch in the face?
Is it you?
You know you do.
-Another fantastic ditty by yours truly. steal it and you'll die young. Or old, depending on when you steal it.

Monday Night Lights

Empire State Building from Lexington Avenue, 12/11/06

For Vanity's Sake, Please Read

After an evening of watching A&E's Intervention, I have a public service announcement:

Do not get addicted to the following drugs if you can help it; you'll take a terrible photo and look bad on film.

1) Crystal Meth: Your features will eat themselves and you will become gaunt. Also, there is bad acne to be had. If you can't get out of a photo, slip on a monkey mask; it will quickly and effectively conceal any unsightly blemishes.

2) Morphine, Ambien, or a cocktail of both: It makes one of your eyes small, and you slur and drool a lot. Answer questions with a simle "Yes" or "No" and make sure to open your droopy eye wider when there is a camera present, if possible. Or just shut them both, and pretend you're sleeping (probably your best bet).

Good luck! Nobody can blame you for ruining the family photo now.

Meow Do You Do?

Doodle, 12/10/06