Here's What I Did During My Half Week Off

$300 at the shrink to get anti-anxiety meds.

$ 65 at The chiropractor to learn I had a pinched nerve.

$ 33 at Rite-Aid's discount service for people with no medical insurance but an appearance on Seinfeld.

$398.00 for things I already knew.

The meds have made me stop crying. I was crying 5 or 6 times a day. Now I don't and strangely I miss it. I guess it's pretty clear how neurotic I am.

I was a total wuss at the chiro's and Dr. Jeff made McLoserstene HOLD MY HEAD so I wouldn't run away. How long do you think she'll be telling random strangers THAT story?

I still haven't paid my taxes. You know, just to change the subject.

End of chat.

Taking A Week Off

I'll be back when I'm done crying.

Still One Of My Favorite Videos

This is a few years old and still 22 seconds of mesmerizing and maddening stuff I can't figure out.





How to fold a tee shirt

The Emmy's Just Keep Getting Worse

Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang. That's me shooting my 21 neighbors during the 60th broadcast of the Emmy Awards.

Oprah opening the show? I'm sorry but isn't she on TV enough?

I gained new respect for Jimmy Kimmel for trying to warn the 5 reality show hosts that their opening sketch wasn't going to work. I'd rather watch an hour of Umaaaa, Opraaaah than watch those suicide bombers again.

JOSH GROBAN SINGS THE EMMY'S? Are you fucking kidding me? What's the average age of the Emmy viewer? Dead?

Mad Men, a show about the 60's before the 60's became cool. I gave this show a shot and watched this season but preferred Swingtown when the 70's were about bad clothes and sleeping with your neighbors and uh, you know, interesting.

The Amazing Race. 6 consecutive wins? Ridiculous.

Please stop thanking your children for your win. Unless they gave you the idea, wrote the piece or helped you with the direction, shut the fuck up. The guy who thanked his NEWBORN needs to move into my building so I can shoot him too.

Mary Tyler Moore. Three words. Upper arm workout.

The dresses? Nicollette Sheridan, Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Hargitay. All the rest looked tragically boring although I liked Kathy Griffin's dress and 2 pounds of hair extensions. Not sure any of the women scored a Chanel or a Valentino. I think there was only one Armani and at least one Oscar de a Renta; all the rest were Blah Blah and Who Cares. I'm such a Gown Snob.

Funniest moments of the night, Ricky Gervais and Don Rickles. Neither of them gives a shit, how glorious is that in a town like Hollywood?

Most gratifying moment, Tommy Smothers getting his 1968 Emmy for writing.

Last year's Emmy Awards was the second lowest watched Emmy's ever. I'm guessing until last night. All in all, one of the worst Awards shows ever.

End of chat.

It's Everyone Can Bite Me Friday!

Blogger had publishing problems for the last two days so I was unable to post until late tonight.

And now the winner of a signed copy of Falling Under. There were 16 correct answers but two came in after Friday morning so they couldn't be counted. The correct answer was B, artist, and a randomizer picked Heidi, who after not winning any contests for a very long time has now won at least two, although one was at Uproarious. So Heidi send me your snail mail and I'll send it on to Danielle. You're really going to love this book and I can't recommend it enough to everyone else.

In other news, an all-white jury was sworn in for the new O.J. trial. SO hard to believe.

A style expert on Access Hollywood predicted that because Valentino is dressing Sarah Palin, he is going to lose a lot of clients. VALENTINO, who is not American and who is VALENTINO and who RETIRED this year. Nothing is more aggravating to me than people who don't understand fashion but pontificate about it anyway. AND ARE WRONG.

I didn't make it to any doctors this weeks due to setback after setback, one of which involved me falling and hitting my head, and another involving the chiro unexpectedly closing his office for 2 days. BOTH VERY HELPFUL INCIDENTS. I can't recall being this irritated in MY WHOLE LIFE.

I'm over at Uproarious disussing the Tina Fey/Amy Poehler cold open for Saturday Night Live's season opener. I'm sure you don't want to miss that.

End of chat.

A Very Appetizing Shoe Contest

The 2008 Debs have wrapped up their championship season. But I'm bringing you another one of their creative authors and another shoe contest.
Danielle's book has amassed critical acclaim across the web. Good Housekeeping reviews it and asks the question 'Bad boy sex---why does wrong feel so right?' That's right kids, this book is not only beautifully written it's also about that kind of sex. And Book Chic says “Danielle Younge-Ullman definitely did not hold back. She came out swinging to produce a wonderful and amazing book in Falling Under.” So here's the contest and the question. Based on this painting, what do you think is the profession of Mara, the heroine of this book? "Ice Cream Heels"
Limited edition giclee edition of 150 on wrapped canvas available 12" X 12", $325 by Mary Lovein

With a little bit of research you can figure out the answer. I made it easy on you this time because I want as many of you as possible to get a shot at this amazing debut novel. And if you don't win, GO BUY IT NOW. You can thank me in Chuckles and Butter Tarts later.

A. Prostitute
B. Artist
C. Foodie

As usual, you have two days to get your answers in. Then I'll pick a winner on Friday and Danielle will autograph a copy and send it to you.

End of chat.

Seriously, When Does This Party END?

I didn't make it to the doctor yesterday. I got up 23 minutes after the doctor's appointment, which was at 2 p.m.

That's because I was up all night with my operated-on foot spasming so much I couldn't sleep. I finally went to bed at 5 a.m. I often ask for signs whether I should or should not go ahead with some things. And when it comes to doctors, I ask twice as hard. I was, for some reason, having a bad feeling about going to see him. I never, EVER ignore my intuition (except when it comes to men because I'M A MORON) so I took it as a sign not to go. The foot hasn't spasmed since.

I also fired my internist for telling me I had fibromyalgia (I don't) OVER THE PHONE and trying to get me into his office for tests. I called him an idiot. Which he is. All they want is your money to keep their offices afloat. He's in Beverly Hills, surprise! Thirteen years in NYC and I don't remember one rip-off doctor there. Is it possible that New York doctors actually CARE about you more than money? I have seen more incompetent doctors in L.A. than anywhere else I've lived. I wouldn't be surprised if they're all just telling their patients, "But what I really want to do is direct."

I don't trust them and never have. If they can just lie and tell you whatever they want to get you back in their offices for bogus tests, how much are they telling you that IS true? They don't listen, all they hear is their God complex ringing in their ears. Always get a second or third opinion. The doctor who did my surgery was my third opinion. After I saw him I still contacted my Indian doctor in Mumbai, hoping he could do it. But the recovery prohibited me going back to India. But I know I wouldn't have been this stressed out. Every time I see my doctor, I come home three times as stressed.

But I am going to see the chiropractor next week for my pinched nerve. My doctor's office said I should come in, they would probably send me to a neurologist who would then send me to a chiro. Being full of metal, I can only see one chiro, a guy in West L.A., who I've known for 10 years and knows how to handle people with metal. So I'm cutting out the middle man because PEOPLE ON THE INTERNET WHO READ ME HAVE FIGURED OUT WHAT'S WRONG. FOR FREE. Do you see why I hate doctors?

There's someone on TV tonight and tomorrow that you really shouldn't miss. You have to go to Uproarious to find out who. But you'll want to set your TiVos for this.

End of chat.

How Funny Is This?

UPDATE: 11 PM LA time. I have 5. Not as funny.

UPDATE: 6 PM LA time. I have 3. Still funny.

UPDATE: 6 AM LA time. I have 2. Still funny to me.

If you'll look directly to the right of this post you'll see that after TWO YEARS OF BLOGGING I have ONE person who is following this blog: Donny Is Smoking Now. The best part of this is that when you go to the blog it has a really hilarious url.

AND this person, Hail to the Thief, is Scottish. If you know anything about the annual Edinburgh Comedy Festival, you know the Scots love the arcane, the wicked, the bizarre. Which apparently is where I come in.

Two years.

Of.

Blogging.

One fan. 6,000 miles away.

Did I mention the Scots are geniuses and my new husbands?

End of chat.

It's Everyone Can Bite Me Friday!

First of all, I'm over at Scrivel with my Vogue cover. Don't believe me? Go see for yourself.

I am currently in love with The Bonnie Hunt Show. Why it's taken Hollywood soooooooooooo long to give this hilarious chick her own talk show only points out how retarded this town is. Whereas I had little interest in seeing Mamma Mia or Sex and The City (rentals) I can't WAIT to see The Women. It's a modern update of the trashy and fabulous 1939 George Cukor directed one, only not as mean-spirited. Fuck.

Sidebar: 1939 was considered one of the best years of movie making in the history of Hollywood. The year's most famous film was Gone With the Wind, which won the Oscar. The other nominees of 1939 were: Dark Victory, Goodbye Mr. Chips, Love Affair, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, Ninotchka, Of Mice and Men, Stagecoach, The Wizard of Oz, and Wuthering Heights.

Annette Bening, one of the stars of the movie, was on Ellen yesterday and when Ellen said there was not one man in the entire movie, except for a lone male extra at the end of the film, the audience cheered. Let's hope they remember that sentiment in November.

My hands are much, much worse and I'm going to the doctor on Monday and I'M OVER IT. Their numbness actually wakes me up at night and as great a concept as that is, IT'S THE WRONG PAIR OF HANDS. The stress of it, of course, just makes the situation worse. Typing is agony and I've stopped commenting as much as I used to so I can save my hands for the 256 blogs I write for. I can no longer hold a knife and fork to eat or hold a glass with one hand. I'm regressing backwards and soon won't be able to speak, which should make a lot of you very happy.

My ex-gay friend and I have used the term, "He's your new husband" since 1992. Now I see it all over the web and I find it annoying. I also invented the wheel and sliced bread so I wish people would stop using those too.

I finished the story of how I got dumped right before a show in New York and what happened at that show that made me stop feeling sorry for myself. It's at Uproarious and part one was on Wednesday so go catch up for God's sakes.

See my sidebar patch? Tomorrow is my two year Blogoversary. That's a long fucking time in Suzy years.

End of chat.

Bonnie Hunt Show The Women Movies of 1939

I Can Never Believe They're Gone

How To Win An Argument

One of the best movies I saw this year was The Great Debaters, starring Denzel Washington, Forest Whittaker, Kimberly Elise, and John Heard. It illustrates the power of good debate. It's a riveting film about the south. It's also a riveting film. Period.

For all the people who have hurled epithets on the blogosphere and have had name-calling shouting matches rooted in passion, please rent this movie. It demonstrates how you can't win any argument by taking down your opponent. 97% of people are firmly entrenched in their own beliefs so you gain nothing by making them wrong. Quote your side, rave about your position, point out your qualities and you might make some headway and piss off less readers.

If you read Dooce, you know she received a death threat for her anti-Palin position. She was hostile and accusatory and way over the top and obviously pissed off some readers, which she can certainly afford to lose. If you read Jennsylvania, a very vocal Republican, you know she's stayed out of the fray because to quote her:

And no matter what I'd try to say or the facts and figures I could dredge up, the simple truth is everyone has different views because all of us come from different circumstances. Our individual histories influence each of our unique perspectives.

Rent the movie. And let your kids see it. Show them how to argue effectively without shaming others. The truth is that everyone thinks they're right and no one thinks they're wrong. Why waste bandwith trying to manipulate? Who do you think you are, my mother?

And just so this post doesn't suck for the People Who Can't Let It Go, I'm at Uproarious today talking about what a loud mouth, disruptive and boundary-less person I am. And how I got dumped by someone who agreed with me. So there.

End of chat.

Mailbag # 8

This is the eighth installment of anonymous snippets from emails I've received. Click on the label at the end of this post to read the others. Or not. If you recognize your line and want to out yourself, go ahead. Or not.


I've been trying not to go on blogs at work at the moment just in case I get fired one day, they can't use my blogging as an excuse.

I was just at an indoor play-place with my wife and kids and none other than Britney Spears was there with her brood.

I love shoving you up things!

But if you're fucked up and depressed...it's those pills. They are so insidious. First they make you feel so good. Then they ruin your life. Typical relationship.

Some guy my husband works with was stopped for speeding the other day on his way to work. While the officer was talking to him, the car’s engine died. The cop asked "What's wrong with your car". The guy answered "It ran out of gas". The cop said "Well, you can go then." So the guy walked the rest of the way to work.

You have always done me the courtesy of telling me personally to fuck off as the need arises.

Can my love be bought so cheaply? Why yes it can.

We are broke right now.

Never mind that I had the shit beat out of me everyday when I was a kid for as long as I could remember. I died during child growth.

I adore your titanium ass and the thong you wrap it in.

How many personalities can he have?

I can cross the street without fear of being run over by a car.

Now I'll have to be an adult. Doesn't that suck?

I have never been able to stand that guy- never even read him- he’s just creepy to me.

Did he show you what shoes he was wearing? Because a quick unbraid of the pigtails and we have DOROTHY! ding, ding, ding.

I should have worked for the FBI.

End of Mailbag

It's Everyone Can Bite Me Friday!

Thank you, Merecat, for my award. You really should stop drinking in the morning.One day, when my hands aren't frozen in the Paleozoic Age, I'll get back to being Mrs. Art Linkalotter and do what I'm supposed to do with these awards I get.

Michael Phelps, 8 gold medals. Now what are they criticizing him for? His choice of footwear. Apparently he wears ugly shoes. We build them up and then tear them down. Do other countries do this?

I've done a lot of things in my life that I've been proud of. I've been lucky and had an interesting life that has taken me around the world. But nothing has made me more proud than the email I got from a reader telling me my blog inspired them to register to vote. Doesn't matter who you vote for, DOESN'T MATTER, just vote. And don't let anyone tell you how to vote. They're control freaks who think their way is the 'right' way. There is no 'right' way. There is only 'your' way. And this is being discussed on many blogs right now: The idea that you won't talk to someone who doesn't vote the way you do. Stop talking to someone because they're mean to you or killed your cat or badmouthed you at your job. But because of who you're voting for? GROW UP.

I'm SO OVER all the assholes who bashed Hillary and are now going after Sarah Palin. Sexism is an equal political party nightmare. From men who fear women in power and women who suffer from Tall Poppy Syndrome. Hopefully the more women who get to the top, the more these men and women will shut the fuck up. Or die. Or both. One of the most significant outcomes of this new addition to the Republican ticket is that sexism is being discussed. By the public, the pundits and the media. Shine a light on that, motherfuckers.

And speaking of dumb fucks, The Manorexic was asked if there was sexism against Palin and he replied no. "If she's out here like I am, then she has to take it." Take what, you arrogant gasbag? Scrutiny into her past career? Absolutely. Scrutiny into her personal life? Absolutely. Scrutiny about her political views? Absolutely. Asked if she could raise her kids and be the Vice-President? Questioned whether being Governor of Alaska in any way contributed to her having a Down Syndrome child? Fucking no way. Obama apparently doesn't know the meaning of the word 'sexism.' OMG. He's just another white guy.

I went to Alaska once. The Anchorage Comedy Club back in the mid 90's. I grew up on the East coast and spent 13 years on the upper East side of New York City and you couldn't pay me to live in inclement weather again. Especially after southern California. It was 84 degrees here yesterday. In my refrigerator.

The other act and I spent a day at Portage Valley in the Chugach National Forest. On the way we saw two men walking along the highway with shotguns over their shoulders. In broad daylight. Hunting is a way of life in Alaska and seriously, if you're making mooseburger jokes, congratulations, you're a hack. I had flown into Alaska on Air Duck'sAss and saw hundreds of hunters lined up with their guns at the airport. It's strange to me but I'm most certainly strange to them. Although I'm a meat eater and wear fur and loathe Peta. And I don't mean the bread.

Further on, we saw lots of cars pulled over to the side of the road. We stopped and found people looking up at these bald eagles high up in the trees on the left-hand side of the picture below. See that river? Those eagles would swoop down and pluck swimming salmon and fly off with them. It remains one of the most breathtaking sights I've ever seen.
Later on we went to the Anchorage Zoo and found them on display. I hate zoos but I've watched enough Jack Hanna to know that we need them for education, for the preservation of different species and to pass on their conservership to children.
This is me at the Anchorage Zoo. I'm the one on the right. Wearing fur. About to tuck into that llama.
Join me over at Uproarious today to vote on who's funnier in late night, Leno, Letterman, Kimmel, Ferguson or Conan. Who do you think is my favorite?

End of chat.

Portage Valley Chugach National Forest Anchorage Zoo bald eagles Uproarious

Never Write A Letter To The Bee Gees

One of the part time jobs I had in LA was working for a company called Left Bank. They managed bands like Duran Duran, The Cranberries, and the Bee Gees. One of the Big Kahunas in the company used to be a standup comic back in NY. He said he was glad he left the profession because now he could pay his bills. And eat. On a regular basis.

Quitter. I floated round the office but mainly was on the Reception Desk because of my personality. I’ll talk to a dead person, and have, so I was the perfect choice to terrify encourage the wannabes who came in and were nervous. My job was to get them to relax so they wouldn’t be so annoying when they met with the managers. Most of them told me to shut the fuck up ignored me.

I got tons of free CDs and learned some disappointing things. When they got musician submissions in the mail, and they got a lot, they were automatically tossed into a large closet, never to be seen again or opened. If you didn’t have an agent, manager or lawyer submitting you, that was the end of that. Very few people called to check on their submissions. I remember one in the few months I worked there. Later on, when I started writing screenplays, I never blindly sent out scripts but took a more professional route and tossed them directly into the trash.

I had no idea how hard they worked to get airplay. The woman in charge of that department fielded over a hundred calls a day. If you worked for her, you had to be calm and serene because the pace was frantic. I lasted 4 days with her before my head fell off. But at least I understood why you heard the same shitty songs over and over and over while you were driving 4 blocks to the dry cleaners.

To this day I never listen to music on the radio. Flashbacks. I always wonder if YouTube made their job easier.

Never write a fan letter to a management company. I can tell you exactly where they end up. If you do by chance get an autographed picture, it was signed by the secretary to the janitor.

Once I worked for the big manager, Tommy. Everyone loved him. He was smart and funny and really sweet. One day I got a call.

“Left Bank.”
“Yeah, let me talk to Tommy.”
“Who shall I say is calling?”
“Me.”
“Me who?” I laughed a little but wanted to say, ARE YOU KIDDING ALREADY?
"Meeeeeeeeeeeee.”

Yeah that helps, draw it out.

“Meeeeeeeeeee who?” Was this guy high? Music + spaz phone call = drugs.
“Meeeeeeeeeeeeeee.”

Seriously, what is wrong with people?

“Meeeeeeeeeeeeeee WHO?”
“MeeeeeeTTTTTTTTTT.”

Meetuh? Who the hell is meetuh?

And then I remembered, that’s what they called Meatloaf. One of their clients.

Now that I've put up the promotional CD cover, I realize it says "Must be returned on demand of copyright owner." Yeah, well they don't know where I live and if they find me, I hope they bring a big box.

End of chat.