Saturday, June 30, 2007

Put Me in Coach

God, I hate the Yankees. But I love baseball so much that I never turn down free tickets. Today the Yanks were spanked by Oakland, and when I left in the 7th they were losing 7 to 0. I wish they would have scored a run or two for this little kid, who was adorable and so into the game that his mother spent 6 innings tapping him on the shoulder trying to get him to sit in his seat (see the second to last photo). He was the only fan I encountered who was giving me stink eyes, totally visibly disgusted by my Boston hat. Excellent.

Yankee Stadium, Yankees vs. Oakland, June 30, 2007

Friday, June 29, 2007

Weird Wedding Photos Part MCCXXIXLVIIIII

It's the Weekend: Got Plans?

I've got a lot of stuff goin' on, but Doodle's pretty much free.
Doodle, June 29, 2007

The Nilla Wafers: The Divider

I'm not sure if I can maintain a friendship with someone who actually likes Nilla Wafers and eats them on purpose. I mean, it's simply just not going to work out. We're two different people. It's impossible. Look, I can't explain it. You either realize Nilla Wafers are rude or you're one of them. You've got problems.

Thursday, June 28, 2007

Save the Date: Doodle's Birthday BLOWGANZA!

Doodle Turns 8 on 8/7/07.
Please mark your calendars for a very special
Doodle's Birthday BLOWGANZA!
It's gonna be wild.

Doodle, June 29, 2007

Tonight I'll Be at the Hill Top Hotel

Hill Top Hotel and Apartments, Sarasota, FL
Circa 1950

Cuba Lake, New York

Weird Wedding Photos Part MCMMMIXLVIIIII

"I don't know why we picked it this photo, I guess we just liked how natural it looked."

NYC in 1993: Detachable Penis

The East Village has changed quite a bit since King Missile came out with their classic song, "Detachable Penis." Kiev is closed, and you don't see many things for sale on blankets anymore. Well, I haven't seen any penises lately, on blankets or anywhere, for that matter.

"Detachable Penis" by King Missile

I woke up this morning with a bad hangover
And my penis was missing again.
This happens all the time.It's detachable.
[background singing begins: "detachable penis" over and over]
This comes in handy a lot of the time.
I can leave it home, when I think it's gonna get me in trouble,
or I can rent it out, when I don't need it.
But now and then I go to a party, get drunk,
and the next morning I can't for the life of me
remember what I did with it.
First I looked around my apartment, and I couldn't find it.
So I called up the place where the party was,
they hadn't seen it either.
I asked them to check the medicine cabinet
'cause for some reason I leave it there sometimes
But not this time.
So I told them if it pops up to let me know.
I called a few people who were at the party,
but they were no help either.
I was starting to get desperate.
I really don't like being without my penis for too long.
It makes me feel like less of a man,
and I really hate having to sit down every time I take a leak.
After a few hours of searching the house,
and calling everyone I could think of,
I was starting to get very depressed,
so I went to the Kiev, and ate breakfast.
Then, as I walked down Second Avenue towards St. Mark's Place,
where all those people sell used books and other junk on the street,
I saw my penis lying on a blanket
next to a broken toaster oven.
Some guy was selling it.I had to buy it off him.
He wanted twenty-two bucks,
but I talked him down to seventeen.I
took it home, washed it off,and put it back on.
I was happy again. Complete.
People sometimes tell me I should get it permanently attached,
but I don't know.
Even though sometimes it's a pain in the ass,
I like having a detachable penis.
[background voices continue to sing "detachable penis" fora while, then out]


In line at the bank this week, I heard the following conversation between two women in their 60's. One lady had some bucks, the other didn't.

Poor Lady: Hi, Susan!

Rich Lady: Hi, how you doin' Nancy?

Poor Lady: Not good.

Rich Lady: No?

Poor Lady: Aww, no, John had a stroke and now we find out turns out he has diabetes. Plus he's been banned from the buildin'.

Rich Lady: Oh, no.

Poor Lady: Yeah, banned from the buildin'. Now he's in the hospital and I gotta pay for his t.v. in his room there, and I can't afford it. I don't know what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna have to quit smokin' for a couple of days.

Rich Lady: Take care, Nancy, I'll see ya later. (slips her a twenty on her way out with a hug and a kiss)

Poor Lady: Aw, are you sure, Susan?

Rich Lady: See you later.

Poor Lady (to the teller): That's my friend.

You Can Get Here From There

Google these terms and somehow you get me:

2 15.38% miss belvedere
2 15.38% party with beer
1 7.69% ex-wives club sheree
1 7.69% wildwood,new jersey
1 7.69% yachtclubs
1 7.69% places to go clamming in wildwood, new jersey
1 7.69% ty pennington style studio collection sofa
1 7.69% cats insides
1 7.69% sheree zampino paintings
1 7.69% slavepitv
1 7.69% patti novak

Who Googles "yachtclubs?"

The same person who Googles "cats insides?"

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

And You Thought Was Interesting?

The Good, the Good and the Bad

  1. Good: Tonight I'm recording a voiceover for a major cable television network but I won't tell you anything more about it because who knows, sometimes shit doesn't materialize.
  2. Good: This afternoon I bought some smokin' hot eye shadow, sparkly pink blush, and fancy lip gloss at Century 21. I look so hot that I'm breaking my own neck when I catch my reflection in the mirror.
  3. Bad: My boyfriend is a fish.

Houseplant Picture Studio Does It Again

That Kurt Benbenek! Always finding interesting stuff to share. Here's a series of photos from an album I'm absolutely in love with. It appears to be of an engagement party/rehearsal dinner and a wedding, and clearly it was a good damn time.


Waldorf Salad

The original Waldorf Salad was created at the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel in New York and contained only apples, celery, and mayonnaise. Interesting!

What's the rude one with the freakin' mini marshmallows in it? Anyway...

Click here for the recipe in the picture below. You know you want it.

I Met the Mets!

Ok, I didn't really meet the Mets per se, but I did see a game for the first time at Shea Stadium last night! Exciting! And when I mentioned that I was going to the game, even Met fans would say defensively, "Shea is shit." But you know what? I loved it. You know why? I don't expect much. I'm a Red Sox fan, I like stuff I've never done before, and I don't consider anything built in the 1960s "old." And to me, Shea was grand. Oh, and it didn't hurt that they were the best seats I've ever had in my entire life at any major league ballpark. That was a huge factor in the awesome experience for sure. They are what you might call, "Rich White Man Seats" and let me tell you something, rich white men have it made. And not for nothin', I feel a wee bit disenfranchised being a poor white woman. My party is not well represented unless we know people. And last night, luckily I did.

Mets Stadium is different from Fenway or Yankee Stadium in more ways other than the obvious. I got a casual vibe from the joint. More kids. Less drunken violence (at least where we were sitting, we were the only drunken violents) It was nice. I'd describe the stadium as Mid-1960's Provincial Goodness with a dash of City Grime and Gritty Edge for Effect. I found the large cranes and other signs of the new stadium being built to be depressing and and exciting at the same time. Unlike the way I feel about the new Yankee Stadium, which is completely asshole-ish in every way, shape, and form and every bit like Steinbrenner. Gross.

The Mets have funny traditions. They have a "Love Cam" where they catch couples on the JumboTron and then they have to kiss. Also, Met fans eat a lot of ice cream and really enjoy doing so. And they shout "Mustachio" when Jose Valentin is up at bat. Anyhoodle, our host, who so generously invited us to the game, had to go back to New Jersey (it happens) so we missed the last few innings and the Mets ended up losing. But, whatevs. They were great seats. Oh, and we rode the elevator up to the Diamond Club with Ralph Kiner. So, put that in your hat and smoke it.

Shea Stadium, Mets v. Cardinals, June 26, 2007


Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Welcome to the Horribleness

Last night I found myself sucked into one of the worst televisions shows I have ever seen, and man, that is saying something, because let's face it: Is there is a lot of crappy stuff on t.v. or what? The horribleness is called the Ex-Wives Club, and it premiered last night on ABC. I watched 45 minutes of this horrible show, mainly so I could write this little post, but partly because I really needed to see the horribleness. I'd liken it to picking a scab. You know it's going to hurt, you know it's going to bleed, you know it's bad for you because your cut will take longer to heal, and most importantly, you know it's going to leave a scar, yet there you go, picking away like a fuckin' moron.

The show supposedly is about mending broken hearts, featuring two individuals' stories, both of whom have suffered terrible breakups. But all it takes is a few minutes into the episode and you realize what the show is really about: The narcissim of its three hosts, Marla Maples, Angie Everhart, and Shar Jackson. The show could be called, "Marla, Angie, and Shar in Different Outfits, Hairstyles, Makeup, and Varying States of Botox, " and clearly there was thought put into the order of these broads to be depicted on the promotional materials, and this is how I remember them.

Who the hell are Marla, Angie, and Shar, you ask? Great question. In a shellaqued nutshell, they were not so famous women who really did not become mildly famous until they banged infamous men, then the men dumped them and sent them back into oblivion. They're back on t.v. now because producers must have believed that three hosts are better than one, and that their experiences being dumped would lend some credibility to the show. Or that their empathy would help ease the pain of the reeling guests who are spilling their guts. Instead, Marla, Angie, and Shar cry constantly. At everything. And always bring the story back to themselves. Comforting!

Here's an example:

Sad sack#1:

My wife of four years dumped me on an instant message. We still live together and sleep in the same bed at my parents house. She goes on dates with other men and comes home late. I still love her. Sob sob sob sob sob sob sob

Marla: An instant message? That is SO SAD! sob sob sob sob sob!

Angie: OMG That IS so sad! I don't know what I'd do if that happened to me! sob sob

Shar: OMG I know! sob sob sob sob sob
Sad Sack #1: crying harder
Marla, Angie and Shar: crying harder than Sad Sack #1
And so the show goes. Sad Sack #2 is a woman whom I feel more sorry for, as her douche of a husband left her and the kids after 25 years for a younger woman. Since Ex-Wives Club has all the requisite features of a makeover show, Sad Sack #2 and #1 get new clothes and hairdos and stuff and learn how to "let go" by doing cathartic activities like zipping around in the desert on Four Wheelies and (this one, for the life of me I don't understand) melting a cheating husband's prized possesion, his Rolex, at a welding warehouse.
She had just finished saying, "I resented him for buying expensive things like this for himself, as we never had any money..." And then Angie Everheart convinces her to put the watch in a 2,000 degree tub of molten lava? "I feel so good now!" she shouts after it's pulled back up on a hook in the form of a molten rock. Oh, yeah? You feel good? Just think how good you'd feel with ten grand in your pocket right now? Maybe your husband left you because you're an idiot. Did you ever think of that?
My favorite part of the show is when Sad Sack #2 goes over to Will Smith's first wife Sheree's house. That's how we're introduced to her. Sheree SMITH reveals her irritation at not being known for being a person in her own right, but for being Will SMITH'S first wife. Sheree, nobody's stopping you from going back to your maiden name, Zampino. Hop to it or shut your pie hole.
Sad Sack #1 ends up being even a bigger Sad Sack than you can imagine. I can't even get into it right now because it's simply too irritating to write about. He is such a frigging complete loser , that I can't even finish this post without burping up nachos that I didn't even eat. Basically, pays his ex-wife thousands and thousands of dollars to poop in his mouth, and then she rubs it on his face for free, making him exclaim how good it is.
So, in summary: Ex-Wives Club is horrible. Check it out sometime if you're in the mood for that sort of thing. Don't have any knives lying about though, because something or someone will be stabbed.

Crappy Golfers Beware

If you lose your golf ball in the water at this course, you may lose an arm.

I love that the gator has one eye!

Monday, June 25, 2007

Bernice's Restaurant in Guilford, Connecticut

  1. When was the last time you ate at Bernice's?
  2. More importantly, when was the last time anybody named anyone Bernice?
*according to this chart, the answer to #2 is: Sometime in the 1980's.

Guilford, Connecticut: Has the third largest collection of historic houses in New England. It was also voted one of the top 100 Places to Live in the United States in 2005. I can't speak for what Guilford's like these days, I mean, a lot can happen in two years and it could be a huge craphole now but the yachtclubs are full so I doubt it.

The New iDoodle

Only a few more days until it goes on sale!
But at Two Can Anne, there are no lines, no waiting!

Anne's Plans for Independence Day

Since July 4 lands on a Wednesday this year, I'll be rocking out the week with fun time events such as getting up, going to work, going home and going to bed. I know, calm yourselves!

Let's Go to Reno

Reno, Nevada ~ circa 1920's/30's

Sunday, June 24, 2007

Aren't These Smart?

They sure are. Make your place a shithole instantly with floral bouquet furniture covers in brown! Doody brown and caca brown. Who knew it was possible? Two shades of brown? And they're on sale!

Just in Case You Needed Remindin'

You got really really really really lucky, babe, when I found you. Remember, good love is hard to find. Don't be an idiot.

Attention London Peeps: See the Wau Wau Sisters

The Wau Wau Sisters are playing London's Hippodrome on June 28. Beg, borrow, or steal to get there, kids. I see them whenever they're in New York: Their show has T and A, gymnastics, rock and roll, and a trapeze? A trapeze! Please! What more could you want?

Here's their R-rated work off-trapeze, boys.

Ah, Leah

I'm not fond of the name Leah, but I'm a huge fan of this song. Probably because it's a great friggin' song. And because I'm old. Respect your elders, whippersnappers.

Donnie Iris, Ah Leah, 1980

We're Here! We're Queer! Get Used to It!

Happy Gay Pride, Everyone!

Tom McCaffrey

Tom McCaffrey at left, with Matt McCarthy, Thursday night @ Delancey Lounge

I've known Tom McCaffrey a long time. This fact alone is one of the reasons I love him. The other reason I love him is because his comedy makes me snort boogers and pee my pants. Even if the joke is a terrible draft, even if he hasn't even friggin' said anything yet, there's Anne, having a coniption. It's something in his delivery. Or something he's put into my drink. Either way, he loves having me in the audience and I love being there. Catch him onstage before he gets too obnoxiously famous. He's already sort of obnoxious. That should explain our friendship.

Here's Tom from a tour in which he headlined. He makes that clear.

Saturday, June 23, 2007

Party With Beer

And Heinrich Stammler. He likes beer and likes to party with beer. Who doesn't?
Here's a maximum boost to the beer community out there:


If you find my blog boring, read it in German. Two Can Anne is way more interesting auf Deutche. Unless of course, you happen to be German, and in that case, this trick isn't going to help much.

Master the Look

From newbluebaby.

And here's our favorite chipmunk Bombay Style.

It's Your Fault That This Happened

Here is Part II of Japan is Crazy, contributed by huge fan, Matt Sears.

Good Story out of Sagle, Idaho

This story has all the essential elements for a compelling tale: Dog driving a car into a river, a pizza, a man wearing dentures, a man holding dentures, and a tow truck.

National Lampoon's Animal House

My favorite movie of all time. Let's enjoy a memorable scene featuring Otis Day and the Knights, shall we?

Friday, June 22, 2007

Time is Terrifying and Awesome

If this story doesn't give you goosebumps, then you're either dead inside or seriously into Abercrombie and Fitch and Jaeger Bombs. Get psyched! Dorian's is still open!

Anne Altman Live

Here's me a looking all cute at Mo Pitkin's last week. The photos, a la night vision, remind me of Paris Hilton's sex tape. Minus the two trashy skanks having sex part.

Anne Altman, and host Carolyn Castiglia as Mama Zimbabwe @ Chicks and Giggles, "Anything but Standup," Tuesday, June 19, 2007

Let's Go Dutch

To celebrate the onset of my new summertime exercise routine and Matt Sears in general, I'll be doing this particular video for the next 4 weeks on 2x daily basis starting tonight. That's approximately 2x28, for all you math nerds out there. I will advise on my inches lost and fitness gained.

In the meantime, please enjoy this clip compliments of Matt which he has appropriately ( per usual) tagged "Japan is Crazy.":

Let's Go Dutch*!

*Dedicated to Neal: Happy Birthday! Thanks for checking!

Fitzy's Wicked Pissah Summer Preview

Fitzy's webcasts are as refreshin' and delicious as a cold keg a beeahh* and a lobstah* roll with extra tahh-dah*. Or a wicked lahge* beef with bah bah Q* sauce from Kelly's. Maybe a small fried clams too. With extra tahhdah*.

Word Key:

beeahh= beer
lobstah= lobster
tahh-dah= tartar sauce
lahge= large
bah-bah-Q= barbeque


Thank God it's Friday Meow Mix.

Contributed by huge fan, newbluebaby:

Kick Ass Greeting Card of the Week:

"It's not homophobia; everybody hates you."

-Contributed by yet another huge fan of mine

Kick Ass Broad of the Week: Miss Piggy

Contributed by a huge fan of mine:

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and it may be necessary from time to time to give a stupid or misinformed beholder a black eye."

- Miss Piggy

The Reason Behind the Chafing

You know that dress you wore to the party tonight, the one that you pulled out of the closet with the tags on it from two years ago, and it fit you by the grace of God, as it was the only thing in your wardrobe which wasn't in the hamper?

Well, this is why it was chafing you.

Ann Taylor Loft, huh? Oooh, fancy. And you didn't even get it on sale? What an asshole. Let me guess, you probably pay people to burp in your face, don't you?

Thursday, June 21, 2007

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Under Pressure Is For Reals, Yo

So many people almost got a beat down today, you have no idea. Neither did they. I have an old timey memory attached to this song. If don't act up, I may share it with you. Now, please enjoy Queen and David Bowie with "Under Pressure::

The Herring Are Here! The Herring Are Here!

Who is Anne Altman, you ask? Well, that's a complex question indeed, folks. I've been scratching my head about it for years. I think I'm going to have to get back to you on that one. What I can tell you in the meantime is that, as I'm sure you're well aware, I'm always jazzing up my already completely red hot, totally hip n' happenin' life with a little activity I like to call, "Things I've Never Done Before." So, in the spirit of TINDB, today I checked off a thing I've never done before by doing just that thing: Eating a traditional Dutch bar staple, a raw new herring with a glass of gin.

Called Hollandse Nieuwe Haring Scheveningen, the tiny fish treat is traditionally accompanied with a Dutch gin called Genever. Granted, I really wanted to go with my office Dutchman for this experience (yes, I really do work with a Dutch guy. Isn't that weird?) so he could show me the ropes, but he couldn't make it. So a combination of me being really curious to try it and part dare (he didn't think I'd have the nerve to go by myself and dangle a dead fish over my head--that's how they eat it in Holland),
I made it a point to get to the last day of the Herring Festival at the Oyster Bar in Grand Central. Specifically, the saloon. And you know what? It was fantastic.
The gin was smooth and mellow (as opposed to my Dad's butane, Bombay Sapphire)
and the fish--unlike that jarred pickled silvery gnarly stuff that my dad loves-- tasted right from the North sea, salty and sweet at the same time. The gin came in a small little tulip flute (in the picture it appears larger) and the herring came with chopped onions, parsely, chopped egg and a wedge of lemon.

I did hang the fish upside down for the first bite, like the real deal do, but then I got self conscious. Why, you ask?
How about this creepy guy:

who suddenly sat at the end of the bar and began staring at me. The small, handsome and dignified bartender, in his 70's with an accent I couldn't place, asked what he wanted to drink and he said, "Uh, just a glass of water, is that ok?" Then he went to town on the fuckin' peanuts while he sat with his back to the restroom wall and scanned the joint, focusing on me. After I gave him a half dozen dirty looks, he put on his sunglasses. That's when I picked up my fork and knife for the last bite. A-hole. Put a dent in my experience, this perv.

At one point after staring for a few minutes at the floor, I noticed he was gone, his glass of water half empty. He had been sitting in front of a poster that I wanted, a herring advertisement featuring cute picture of a Dutch girl grinning with a headless fish hanging by the tail by her fingertips. I inquired of the poster with Alex, the bartender, and soon our conversation turned to talking shit about the asshole who ordered water, ate the peanuts, and didn't tip. "Just water, is that ok?" said the jerk. Yeah, it's okay, asshole, if you're going to tip. Alex dumped his glass, went back to making drinks, and a few minutes later the dude reappeared. He kept leering at me, eating more peanuts with no drink. I know the phrase, "Take a picture it'll last longer" is meant to be said to the starer, not the staree, but I'm the one who took out my camera in full view and snapped a picture of him. Alex asked, "Do you want something else?" And the dude goes, "No, I'm just waiting for a train." Then he left.

The moral of this story? Make sure to take advantage of Herring Season! You have one more day until next year. Do something you've never done before! Unless that something it's taking up space at a bar, eating the peanuts, using the bathroom, wearing sunglasses inside and leering at women without spending a few bucks. That stuff's not free, you jerk. Who raised you, anyway? Ah, nevermind. I really don't want to know. Herring! Herring! Herring! Herring!