Deja Vous While Licking Yogurt Lid

The television show: The Hodge Podge Lodge!!! Anyone who grew up in Massachusetts and is over 30 will know what the Hodge Podge Lodge is.

Perhaps these same people will be able to decipher why licking a yogurt lid would trigger this memory. Hell if I know.

I May Not Win Lotto Tonight

Because it's totally random and wicked hard. Plus, I haven't bought a ticket at a gas station in Nassau county, and this is a problem because everyone knows that Nassau County gas stations are lucky locations and nobody in Manhattan ever wins these kinds of jackpots., especially a newsstand in a highrise on 3rd Avenue and 55th Street. I've put some thought into my numbers, but the public needs to understand that it's really hard to be good at Lotto. Which is why I've adopted an Olympic, "Bodie Miller Style" Philosophy of "I don't care if i win, I'm just here to play hard and and bang tons of broads. " Ok, maybe not the broads part. But I have been doing some research, and I found that this link was most informative on how to help myself adjust to newfound fame and fortune:

http://www.note.com/note/pp/jackpot.html

Headless Mannequins with Erect Nipples: A Poll

How do zee booobeeez know that it's cold out, when there is no brain to relay the message? could it be something like when a chicken gets it's head cut off and it runs around for awhile? or is it that the mannequin maker is simply a perv? both are entirely plausible.
Headless Mannequins with Erect Nipples: Necessary or unnecessary?

Top 3 Reasons I May Need My Own Website

Other hot broads named Anne Altman. Damn these doppelgangers!

3 Wicked Good Documentaries

I highly recommend the following. Google them.

"Grizzly Man" by Werner Herzog: The story of Timothy Treadwell, Bear Whisperer and his tragic but unsurprising fate (a bear eats him).

"The Farmer's Wife" by David Sutherland: The story of Juanita and Darrel Buschkoetter and their struggles to save their small Nebraskan farm (and their marriage).

"Unknown White Male" by Rupert Murray: The story of Doug Bruce and his sudden, inexplicable amnesia (he wakes up on a train headed for Coney Island one morning and has no idea who he is).

A Song I Wrote

This is a song dedicated to my cat. It's catchy. It's called, "Why Do You Piss on the Floor?"
(sorta sung to the tune of "It's Not Easy Being Green.")

Why do you piss on the floor?
I cannot take it anymore
I buy the stuff to spray
I spray it everyday
Yet you still piss on the floor

The Bad News and The Good News

So I've got bad news and good news. I always like to hear the bad news first, and I suppose most people do too, so I'll start by telling you that I did not win the $212 million dollar lotto jackpot last night. I know, I was just as surprised as you. I went to bed early all excited like a kid on Christmas Eve, and to wake up to this shit was seriously disappointing. Naturally, I was bummed out most of the day. Then suddenly the good news revealed itself, and my heart rose: Nobody else won either! Yeah! High fives!?!?! Do I find happiness in others' misfortune? Sure, maybe sometimes--who doesn't? It depends. Fuck 'em, you know? Anyway, so now there's 256 million smackaroos on the line, and I have a new lease on life. And I'm feeling so good about Tuesday's drawing, that I just threw that box of black socks away. Fuck it, you know? I'll be rolling in thousands of pairs of new black socks on Wednesday. I'm going to go out later and buy a few tickets tonite. Get a jump on things. But right now, I'm watching this awesome t.v. show on polygamy, rape, incest, and murder--hosted by none other than A&E's dashing and intoxicating Bill Curtis-- and I cannot tear myself away. Ok, you're probably asking yourselves, "Is this how a pending multi-millionaire spends her last Saturday night as a $20 dollars-an-hour-aire?" Yes, it is. Because next week I'll be able to buy Bill Curtis and have him narrate the show to me anytime I want in my own damn livingroom. Which is going to be totally redecorated, by the way.

Important Advice

I know the majority of you are interested in obtaining a new credit card so you can put 1% down on a Hummer3. For those of you NOT interested in obtaining a new credit card, DO NOT do the following thing:
Sign up for a new credit card using a fake middle initial, fake social security number, and fake mailing address just so that your friend can take home an additional crappy promotional item free with sign-up. Those credit card people are not to be underestimated, they are tenacious gumshoes and they will find you, no matter what kind of fake shit you put down, despite what your friend says. DO NOT listen to that bitch, ok? She doesn't know what she's talking about. I am now the miffed owner of a new credit card which I was not interested in obtaining. Without, I might add, the benefit of an aforementioned crappy promotional item, which was in this case, a cocktail shaker. The moral of this story is: Do not do nice things for greedy people--you'll end up with an unwanted credit card, and you'll have to drown your sorrows by drinking directly from the bottle, sans shaker. Consider yourself learned.

Blotto

I don't consider myself a gambler. It's one vice that I can't really claim. Though with my addictive personality and lots of practice, I'm quite certain I could make it a full-blown vice in no time. But right now, it's just a half-assed vice: I am the proud owner of $11 worth of lotto tickets. Why $11? Well, the other night I bought a dollar ticket from a random bodega on my way home, to avoid the long last-minute lotto-er lines that form today and to diversify my purchases. Then this morning, I was given an extra $10 by the ATM fairy. And you thought that never happens, right? Neither did I but apparently it does. Since that was money I didn't know I had coming to me, I "invested" it all on lotto tickets from the cats who sell 'em down in the lobby of my office building. I sort of made a scene in there, telling the dude and his wife behind the counter to get ready for the cameras and reporters and crazy hullabaloo that will surround me and my winning ticket purchased at his retail location. What will I do with the money, you ask? Well, that's the cart before the horse, but the first thing I'll do is probably throw this collection of random black socks away --a chore that's been haunting me for months-- and just buy new ones. Then I can check "sort socks" off my To Do List and enjoy the way that feels for awhile.

Admittedly, I'm pretty excited about winning the $212 million tonight.

Happy Birthday to You, Blog!

Dear Blog,
Happy Birthday! Luckily you were an easy pregnancy, taking all of 12 minutes, significantly less time than to breed a real live human baby. Or so I've heard. Anyway, I'm sobbing with joy as I type this. I am way more excited about your birthday than my own damn birthday which is fast approaching. Why? Well, it's because getting old blows. But the other option is death. So frankly, I'm torn. But I digress. Welcome to the world, Two Can Anne! Have a piece of cake.
Love,
Anne