Punkins

NYC, 11/9/07

Kiss My Fat Friday

It's a Doodle-y Type of Day, Ain't It?

Doodle, 8/07

Stop Your Bitching and I Mean Me

I Love the 1700's!

• the average child had a roughly 50% chance of surviving to adulthood


• slavery was legal in all 13 colonies


• all cooking was done in or around the fireplace


• women could not vote, hold public office and unless widowed, own property in most colonies


• travel was slow and uncertain; by water, ships relied upon the wind for locomotion; by land, a rider on horseback might hope to cover 30 miles in a day, a passenger in a coach, just 20


• aside from sunlight, the sole source of heat was fire, usually in an open fireplace; after sunset, illumination was either by moonlight or candlelight


• there was no indoor plumbing: the flush toilet, the bathroom and the kitchen faucet are 19th century innovations--chamber post, outhouses and buckets were a way of life


• privacy was a rare privilege for most: people, including children at home and strangers at inns, routinely shared beds


• aside from a minority of city dwellers, almost everybody was a farmer


• there was no anesthesia for surgery or childbirth


• every household produced some, and in many cases all, of the candles, soap, foodstuffs and clothing it required


• the medieval notion of the four humors still dominated medical theory, so bloodletting and purging were employed to restore the balance of black and yellow bile, blood and phlegm, and thus, presumably, good health

*From December 07's Smithsonian Magazine I "borrowed" from my doctor's office

Mice Which Would Bore Doodle Cat

But I think are neat!

How about this one for me?

Or this one for the perv in your life.

And many more, from pat-says-now. Check it.

I'm Working on a New Song, Folks

To the meow, to the meow.
To the meow, to the meow.
Mmmmm
To the meow, to the meow.
Everything you own in the box to the meow.

To the meow, to the meow.
Don't you ever for a second get to thinking
You're irreplaceable?

You must not know 'bout me
You must not know 'bout me
I can have another you in a minute
Matter fact, she'll be here in a minute...

All I'm Sayin' Is

That I'd like to be a "motivational speaker type person" who is really just an average type person who becomes a millionaire type person by profiting off of other peoples' insecurities and whatnot and rarely, if ever, takes their own crappy advice and shit.

Like this guy, Joel Osteen? You just know he's a douche.

I want to be him.

Weird Wedding Photos Part MVLMMVCCMV

Someone set off a stink bomb to disperse this party, yo

Dancing With the Stars Bums Me Out

I really hate this show. I know you didn't ask, but I hate it. Hate. It. Does anyone give a fat flying crap that Jennie Garth was voted off? Who cares? Except Jennie? She claims she's not sad, but you know she's sad. Embarrassed is more likely.

So, the show sucks. The hosts are annoying, the judges are annoying, the majority of the contestants? Totally annoying. I don't mind the dancing part, I suppose.

And everyone is orange.

The end.

Britney Pregnant Again?

PU. PU! I thought I smelled something. STOP BREEDING I'M TRYING TO EAT LUNCH, THANK YOU VERY MUCH.

I really feel compelled to throw her off of something, like a cliff or a ledge or very high place, and I realize that's not nice.

But I never said I was nice.

Weird Wedding Photos Part MVCLVVMMVM

Something melty this way comes

A New Poem Inspired By a Public Restroom Visit

Big pube on the seat
Big pube on the seat
Isn't it neat
A big pube on the seat

© Anne Altman 2007

Weird Wedding Photos Part MVLCMMVMV

The Next Time You're in Kansas

Stay at a Hutson.

Wicked Weird

"Aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it deosnt mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoatnt tihng is taht the frist and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it wouthit porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe."

-Source: Ankeet Shah

Only 420 Days Left of George W. Bush

Act up accordingly.

Yesterday's A-Hole of the Day-Hole

Commuting back from a long holiday weekend spent in 3 states (something unheard of 100 years ago) is never a glamorous or even remotely pleasant task, but there are people in this world who can make it so, sooo, sooooo much more horrible than it has to be. Vote for your favorite today!

A-hole #1: The line for the restroom at a Connecticut Rest Stop was snaked nearly out the lobby, yet a broad was using stall #2 (of a measly 6) as her private office to make a loud phone call. In Chinese. As I neared the front of the line, I heard other broads hissing and seething with anger, "Somebody should knock on the door. That's not right!" When I got into Stall #1, checked underneath the partition to see what she was doing in there to give her the benefit of the doubt, and sure enough, there was no sitting, only standing and blah-blah-blahing. I took that opportunity to throw a nice big wad of fresh toilet paper under the partition which landed on her shoe. And another wad over, for good measure. That seemed to free up the stall quickly.

A-hole #2: My latecomer seatmate on the MetroNorth Railroad who busted an otherwise pleasant train ride with the following:

• Massive bags a-plenty from a shopping trip to Buy Buy Baby or some crap like that.
• Screeching constantly (from the time she approached to the time she got off) on her bluetooth earpiece in a foreign language so loudly and unapologetically I was simply beside myself--except I was beside her. The one-way conversation sounded like this: "BONG BONG BONG BONG BONG BONG BONG BONG BONG BONG BONG BONG BONG," etc...
• Ruffling and crumpling with plastic bags inside of her purse for candy and settling on a lollypop. Slurp slurp slurp slurp slurp.
• Eating pistachio nuts out of an entirely different crumply rumply bag and throwing the shells on the floor (ie: my lap and my luggage)
• Fumbling through her cosmetic bag and brushing hair. Into my face.
• Applying various makeups to her grill piece while elbowing me in my grill piece.
• Instead of saying something to this horrible human being about her 2000 revolting violations of etiquette, I chose my usual entirely ineffective passive aggressive route of staring at her an inch from her face with the dirtiest, most incredulous look I could muster and plugging my ears with my forefingers.

The End.

Two Can Anne Web Traffic History Was Made Today

I had a whopping 4,702 visitors to my blog today, a new and unbelievable record. Why, you ask? Is it the edgy coverage of hot topics of the day like, say, my post on bacon bits? Is it perhaps the extra mile I go to describe some a-hole du jour? Is it my played out series, Weird Wedding Photos?

No, no, and no.


Today, 99% of the 4,702 folks who clicked on my blog today were googling for the video of two girls eating caca from a cup. Since I haven't posted the video, clearly they were disappointed. Waa waaaaaa...

What about that 1%, you ask? Well, they were less concerned with the poop show and more concerned with "What happened to McDonald's Southwest Chicken Salad." I was able to help them out there, at least.

Two Can Anne: Your #1 News Source Sort Of.

34 43.59% two girls one cup
9 11.54% 2 girls one cup
4 5.13% 2 chicks in a cup
3 3.85% two girls-one cup
3 3.85% 2 girls one finger
2 2.56% two girls one finger
2 2.56% two girls one cup video
1 1.28% two girls and a cup
1 1.28% 2 girls one cup video
1 1.28% two girls one cup original
1 1.28% two chicks one cup video
1 1.28% two girls one cup official video
1 1.28% two girls in one cup
1 1.28% two girls and one finger
1 1.28% 2 chicks & a cup
1 1.28% 2 girls and 1 finger
1 1.28% two girls and cup real or fake
1 1.28% 2 girls 1 finger video
1 1.28% two girls and cup
1 1.28% tow girls one cup
1 1.28% two girls one cup
1 1.28% 2 girls and a cup, the real one
1 1.28% what happened to mcdonalds southwest chicken salad
1 1.28% two girls one cup link
1 1.28% two girls one cup real video
1 1.28% two girls and 1 cup

New From the "Look at the Tree" Guy

and since it's the holiday season, let's look at the tree again, shall we?

Happy Thanksgiving!

On This Holy Thanksgiving Day Eve

What do we think of circus peanuts? You know, the peanut-shaped orange marshmallow that tastes like fake bananas.

I tried explaining these things to someone last night and it sounded as absurd as it... sounds.

Sounds about right.

For Those Who Love Commuter Congestion

Today's your day!

ENJOY!

What a Bunch of Big Bird Shit

Sesame Street's early episodes no longer suitable for today's children?

GAG.

Get over yourselves, today's parents/marketers/whatevers.

Let's go play with some rusty cans now.

Thank you.

Anyone Steaming a Turkey on Thursday?

Not recommended.

I Love a Doll House, Yo

Since I live in a terrifying fantasy land, I've always loved a doll house. I found this metal lovely on eBay, and the only reason I didn't buy it is because even though I'm not a superstitious person, I really don't want to jinx my chances of needing to buy one for my own daughter someday and wind up that creepy lady with the mumus, multiple cats and tons of collectibles. See, years ago, I bought a terrific 1960's era wedding frock from a thrift store for $20 and wasn't dating anybody special. I figured, if it doesn't make it down the aisle one day, I'll just wear it for another occasion, perhaps a blood-spattering sacrifice ritual of my own creation over a teeth-crumbling 9-day meth binge. But so far it hasn't gone anywhere, and there's no husband in sight. You can see where I'm going with this. But let me check just to make sure: "Hey, husband! You there? Hello? No? Ok." Nope. Nobody there. Oh, well. Ok. Back to the blog.

Anyhoodle, this dollhouse is probably made of lead paint and not suitable for licking, but it's cool because they don't make houses like this anymore. One car garage? Please. Today's fat and flashy Americans who can afford a house demand more in a house. A sprawling 15 thousand square feet of "townhome" on a golf course with rooms they never use and bathrooms they never take dumps in. And a chandelier. And a gaslit fireplace. I hate gaslit fireplaces. This place has a real fireplace, yo.

Enjoy.

Wow. Bay window? Bay window next to picture window? Nice features. Anderson windows, I presume?

Your average two bedroom one bath. I'd probably knock the kitchen wall down to give the space a more open feel. Maybe put in an island so I can make my Rachel Ray meals with an audience.

Two refrigerators? Can we afford it?

A window seat in the Anderson bay window and a fire in the fireplace! What's sweeter than that. Though, if I lived here I'd consider rearranging the furniture, perhaps moving the t.v. away from the flames (wicked big fire hazard) and the chair away from the front door (wicked big safety hazard)? I'd think that the simple act of shutting the front door might cut down on heating costs too.

The second floor doesn't appear to be load bearing, but

Washer / Dryer? Sold.

Douche of Last Week

Subtitled: "How to Win Friends, Influence People, and Kick a Temp in the Teeth"

Our biggest client came in for a meeting last week. He is quite fond of himself and thinks himself to be quite an unusually attractive man (not), an accomplished man (depends on your definition of accomplished), and a powerful presence (depends on your definition of powerful). I'd say most people would describe him as an "egomaniac", "difficult" and "stinking rich." At any rate, even though we've been introduced, there's no reason for this guy (I'll call him El Diablo) to know that I exist, other than that I work for the boss as his assistant. He probably knows me as "the chick that sits outside the conference room." And that's if he looks twice.

After the meeting, those involved congregated around my desk. Involuntarily, of course, as my desk sits right next to the conference room. They were discussing our company's holiday luncheon, something I had sent invitations via email to these particular folks a week and a half prior.

"What party?" said El Diablo. "I didn't get an invitation to a party."

"Our annual luncheon," I heard my boss say, reassuring him. "Invites went out last week."

"I didn't get an invite."

"I didn't either," said his colleague.

"Nope," continued El Diablo, "No invite."

"It was an email," said my boss.

El Diablo fumbled with his Blackberry. "I didn't get an email. Nope."

My boss leaned into me, "Anne, you sent out the invitation, right?"

"Yep, they went out Wednesday of last week."

"Nope. I didn't get an email," insisted El Diablo.

Incredulous, I asked, "Really? Because your assistant called me on Monday to RSVP for you...so...unless she has ESP, I..."

"THE ONLY REASON YOU HAVE THIS JOB IS BECAUSE I GIVE YOU BUSINESS!" said El Diablo.

(beat)

"No," I countered, "the only reason I have this job is because I'm a Red Sox fan." (true)

Sunset Village Motel, Denver, Colorado

I Put Bacon Bits on My Salad Today at Lunch

After a multi-year hiatus.

And you know what? I think it was a good decision.

Decent fake smoky flavorful surprise in every bite.

The Good Old Days

When you could have your baby photographed atop a live turkey.

HAPPY PRE-THANKSGIVING, PEOPLE!

Is everyone gettin' jazzed?

If You're Not Crazy

Clap your hands.

(I expect total silence from you, or you're lying.)

Buffalo Bills v. New England Patriots Tonight

Will Brady go 10 and 0 in Buffalo? I certainly don't hope so. Wouldn't it be swell if Buffalo wins this game and Tom asks for my number?

IT CAN HAPPEN!

I want some McDonald's french fries right now. I won't go get some, I'm just saying I want them. Tom might call and all.

Grandma Says it's Good

I don't know how else to explain it to you kids, but the only thing ridiculous about this video when it came out is just how ridiculously awesome it was.

True story.

Goodbye Gin & Tonic, Hello, Jameson's Irish Whiskey

Sure, large, icy Bombay Sapphire and tonics with lime got through me the sweatyhot summer of '07. But these cocktails can be dangerous. And they could have been a factor in The Biggest Black Hole of Judgement Ever Exemplified By Dude After a Second Date:

She's a Great Girl. I Had a Great Time. I Think I'll Send Her an Unsolicited Picture Phone Shot of My Aroused Man Stuff.

(YES, it was the first time I had seen it. YES, it was small. NO, I haven't deleted it. YES, it's been seen by the entire office and more)

Oh, well. I never saw that coming! Literally. Phew! Dodged a bullet. And here I thought he had potential! He graduated from a NESCAC school for crying out loud!



Sigh. What an asshole.

But I digress. There's a refreshing November chill in the air, yo. Finally. And that means it's time for some Jameson's. So, bring it. Bring. It. On.

And enjoy.

Cheers! Rather, Sláinte!

And if under the influence of this delicious caramel nectar of the gods should you ever decide to send me a dirty picture via your cellphone, decide again, won't you? Keep your junk to yourselves, yo. That is, unless I ask for it*. Thanks.





*I won't ask.

Who Doesn't Love an Email Forward?

Normally I don't like email forwards unless they're chain mail threats or jokes about Bill Clinton and his insatiable sexual appetite (man, those are funny), but I thought this one was appropriate to share:


The people who are starting college this fall across the nation were born in 1988.



They are too young to remember the space shuttle blowing up.



Their lifetime has always included AIDS.



The CD was introduced the year they were born.



They have always had an answering machine.



They have always had cable.



Jay Leno has always been on the Tonight Show.



Popcorn has always been cooked in the microwave.



They never took a swim and thought about Jaws.



They don't know who Mork was or where he was from.



They never heard: "Where's the Beef?", "I'd walk a mile for a Camel", or "de plane Boss, de plane".



McDonald's never came in Styrofoam containers.



They don't have a clue how to use a typewriter.



Do you feel old yet?

For the record, I felt old before I read this, but that's the way I roll, all glass half-empty style.

Where's the Beef?

I don't know, but I can tell you where the Meat and Potatoes are. Hosted by my peep, Carolyn Castiglia. She's married to a Dutchman. Isn't that weird?

Meat and Potatoes

Monday, November 26 at 8 pm
The Green Room
45 Bleecker Street

NYC

A show about growing up in "middle class" 'Merica, featuring stand-up and stories that examine a blue collar youth from the other side.

With:

Paul Case (Here TV)
Pat Candaras (Nick-at-Nite)
Kambri Crews (Comix)
Shawn Hollenbach (The Back Room)
Elon James White (Shades of Black)

Hosted by Carolyn Castiglia (VH1) and Baron Vaughn (Aspen Comedy Festival).

$12, with 50% off using discount code 8T2FOR1. Admission includes passes to see ukelele rapper Jon Braman! BYOB!

AA: It Just Means I'm Better Than You Is All

Initials can have an impact on people, so say some other people.

So, there you have it. AA. Actual proof I've only made it to the top because of my given name and surname. And stunning physical beauty. None of which I had any control over.

Boo.

Get Mortified in NYC on December 13, Yo!

That's right, we're less than a month out from another tremendous NYC edition of Mortified! I'd tell you to "save the date" but, it's probably in your best interest for me to encourage you to go a step further and order tickets NOW, as the show sells out.

Did I mention that the show sells out?

The show always sells out.

Not to brag or name drop or anything like a wicked jerk, but the Patron Saint of Angst, Ms. Judy Blume herself, came to--and fell in love with--the last Mortified show at Mo Pitkin's (RIP Mo Pitkin's).

Here's a photo of me with Judy where I look like a crazed lunatic who is madly in love with her (which I am, so I suppose it makes sense but it's borderline creepy, clearly) and the usually stunning Brandy Brandy Barber on the right, looking like a larger-than-life Mrs. Beasley, and the only one in the photo who looks amazing and remotely sane is Judy in the middle, and that's how it should be.


In short, what I'm saying is, if you want to see this show, get off your fat can and make it happen!

The Tank

presents

Mortified

Thursday, December 13, 2007 ~8 p.m.

Mortified is a comic excavation of teen angst artifacts (journals, letters, poems, lyrics, home movies, stories, and more) as shared by their original authors before total strangers.

Hailed a "cultural phenomenon" by Newsweek and celebrated by the likes of This American Life, The Today Show, The Onion AV Club, Esquire, Entertainment Weekly, Daily Candy, and more, Mortified is a comic excavation of teen angst artifacts (journals, letters, poems, lyrics, home movies, stories, and more) as shared by their original authors before total strangers. As the largest and longest-running project of its kind, our grassroots comedy collective has spent years sifting through hundreds of otherwise forgotten notebooks on a mission to celebrate the extraordinary lives of ordinary people. Mortified is co-produced in New York by Brandy Barber & Anne Altman.


Presale tickets: $10 (Day of show $12) Buy tickets here!

www.getmortified.com

The Tank

279 Church Street

New York, NY 10013

(Btn Franklin and White)

Two Girls One Cup

I'm in the dark about scatological pornography, but apparently there's a video flying around the internet featuring two chicks and a cup of poo. I haven't seen it, but from the way Greenberg just described it, the poo doesn't stay in the cup.

Before you run out and watch Two Girls One Cup, be forewarned: Greenberg claims that viewing this feel good flick has ruined his life.

Have a great morning!

Douche of the Week: A New Series

The title of this post is lame, and I apologize for that. Admittedly it's a little bit of a cop out. Is it really specific enough to garner any interest? It's also a tad misleading, as Douche of the Week could mean a huge couple of douches from last week (including but not limited to the Director of Catered Events at City Crab)I mean, which week are we talking about? And there were like 5 major douchebags just today, so, what does that mean other than making the Douche of the Week a tough call. I simply don't know.

Anyway, when I have my wits about me, I'll explain my week and the stuff that happened to me. It's full of so many douches you're going to roll your eyes right out of your heads. So, so many douches.

Peace.

Ready? Oh-Kay!

Ok, ladies! I'm talking to you out of the side of my face because this side of my face is my best side and all Sea Gals show their best sides, don't we gals? Now listen up! I'm going to do roll call! So everybody cheer if you're here! Bananahead?

Here!

Ol' Crazy Eyes?

Here!

Pissy Chick?


Here. Geez.

Toofy?

Here-ff!

Great! Now let's really cheer! Ready? Oh-Kay! Repeat after me! I said a Boom Chicka Boom!

I said a Boom chicka boom. Geez.

Um, Pissy Chick? Ok. Maybe you didn't get the memo? But cheerleaders are supposed to, like, cheer? Okay? And honestly, the only reason we've kept you around so long is because you do the best smoky eye of all the Sea Gals, but honestly? Seriously? You're fired. So, totally pack your tits and go. Leave the smoky eyeliner.

Did you just fart? Geez.

Weird Wedding Photos Part MVCVVMVMC

Either This Guy's Got a Shitty Lawyer

Or he's representing himself.



An appearance on The Today Show with Matt Lauer?


''Why would I look for somebody who I don't believe is missing? She's just gone. She's where she wants to be,'' said Drew Peterson.


Face down and dead in a ditch is where she wants to be? Really? I can think of like, twenty places better than that. Way better. Even the very back of a snaking line at the DMV is better.

I don't think Stacy Peterson is where she wants to be. Wherever she is, she's finally away from a creepy mustachioed killer cop, so... there's the pathetic silver lining, I suppose.

Montage of Potted Meat Towers

The Dollar Store in Beverly, Massachusetts

10/07

The Holidays. Hooray.

Bo Pepper, "I Haven't Got You Anything at All (This Christmas)"

Weird Wedding Photos Part MVCVLLCMMCCM

Behold the Bride of Frankenfug and the head of her parasitic twin.

IT'S ALIVE! ALIVE!!!!!!!!!!!

Weird Wedding Photos Part MCLVVMCVMM

Weird Wedding Photos Part MVLCMMVMV

What do you mean you feel smothered? What do you mean you feel crowded? What do you mean you feel suffocated? What do you mean you feel like I'm going to push you off this pier? Whaddaya mean? Whaddaya mean? Huh? Whaddaya mean? Whaddaya mean? What's wrong?

Happiness Is

1. Something to do
2. Something to look forward to
3. Someone to love
4. Underwear that doesn't give you a wedgie all day

So they say.

Fierce

Reads Like an Onion Headline

Coast Guard: Oil Spill Proly Due 2 'Human Error'

And I thought it was piss drunk harp seals fuckin' around late at night vandalizing shit.

Don't Hate. Instead, Appreciate

We popped a video over the weekend of a solo show I wrote, produced, and of course, starred in three years ago (or is it four?) called I'll Clean Out My Desk: Ten Jobs in Ten Minutes. It played to a sold out People's Improv Theater for a glorious one night run. Needless to say, I knocked the fuck off of the audience's socks with my finely-crafted prose which, I should add, was saturated with pants-pissing wit and followed by a mesmerizing dance number of my own choreography. Believe it. Now I don't want to spoil the show by giving you too many details in case I decide to do it in Vegas some day down the road, but there may have been a few props and a Power Point presentation involved, so, well, that's entertainment.

Anyway, I digress, because this post isn't actually about my show, it's about how fantastic I looked in the video of me onstage doing the show. My hair had recently seen up close and personal by a professional. My suit fit me like a glove, my legs were long and strong, my posture was regal; I was superbly poised. And my profile, well, something that the very glimpse of in a mirror or photograph normally sends me straight to Nausea Town was streamlined and swan-like. I was, in a word, smokin'! Smokinggggggggg.

And seeing this video for the first time in a few years I have to say, I was simply mesmerized. With myself. Laughing out loud at my own jokes. Admiring the broad on stage in the t.v. and thinking, Who is this girl?!?

What sucks about this revelation of fabulousness is, is that at the time, I'm sure thought I looked like shit. I no doubt was referencing the same tattered laundry list of crap to beat myself up with back then that I use now, and that's just sad, people. Sad. What's wrong with human nature that makes us unappreciate the beauty in the now? Why can't we love who we are today? Why don't we love ourselves? Why can't we be free to be you and me? They say you should look in the mirror and grin because today you are one day younger than you will be tomorrow or something like that, and that's obviously true. Time marches, yo. Can't stop it. Don't even try.

Sigh.

And that sigh is where I leave you with the moral of this post, which has clearly revealed itself to me just now:


We all need to realize what's really important. And that is that I looked really fuckin' good three years ago. (Or was it four?)

Suck it, Fred Thompson

Thompson: Overturning Roe v. Wade is the goal.

And yet you seemed so intelligent on Law and Order.

Acting.

I Don't Care How You Slice Your Eggplant

But some people do.

When preparing / eating eggplant parmesan, do you prefer the eggplant to be sliced lengthwise or in circles?

The fella from Brooklyn says "Lengthwise." The fella from Connecticut says, "Circles. How else can you eat it on a hard roll?"

Hard roll?

Connecticut is such a weird state. Total identity crisis.

Please, No Gifts This Christmas

But feel free as a bird to purchase this for me. Inappropriate? Possibly. I don't mind.

AQUA ALLEGORIA

Pamplelune

Weird Wedding Photos Part MCLLVMCMLV

Here comes the bride...

Blicky blicky doo doo!

People and Stuff That Sucked Today

1. My underwear which kept going up my fat can all day
2. My fat can which makes my underwear too small apparently
3. Burritoville's overrated Burrito Bowl
4. Finding out Adrienne Barbeau is not Bea Arthur's daughter after I told three people she was

Greetings from Hobart, Indiana