Wednesday, December 28, 2011
I feel guilty for not spending enough time with my kids. I should really get them a twitter account.
I sure buy a lot of alcohol. Hope I'm not a shopaholic.
If I ever dated a blind girl, I'd have to stop myself from touching her boob and yelling "Hey asshole, she's blind!"
I don't understand interventions. What's the point of being told I drink too much by a room full of the reasons I drink in the first place?
Blonde Zooey Deschanel in "Elf," or brunette in "New Girl," hard to figure out which one I'd least like to bang; probably Whitney Cummings.
Wine bottles should have twist off tops because it's hard to stop crying long enough to get the cork out.
Starbucks was out of those little cardboard sleeves but my barista provided great customer service by letting me use his philosophy degree.
Casey Anthony not guilty, changes name to Susan B.
Happy birthday to Scott Caan who is 5'5'' today.
"WE'RE PREGNANT!" --Guy who doesn't understand anatomy
You know what would be really cool? If we charged broke people for their own money. ~Prepaid Credit Card inventor
I hate the treadmill. I hate the stationary bike. I hate running in the street. Can't I stay in shape just by hating?
it's a sad state of the world when you can't let your 3yo out for a beer run without fearing he'll be kidnapped.
I spend most of my weekends sitting outside the Macy's fitting room holding a purse so strangers think I have a girlfriend.
A study's found that silver's no longer America's favourite car colour. Also, black's no longer America's favourite President colour.
Writing a check at the grocery store is an excellent way of letting people know you have a plastic rain hat in your purse.
I have more pictures of my kids than my Dad even looked at me.
He said I should've been able to finish the laundry since I don't do anything all day and THAT is why I killed him officer.
Men have no shame, therefore, it's just another walk.
Taking notes in a small notebook when someone asked in shock “What are you doing?” 2011: When handwriting became suspicious.
You know you're an asshole when you get sexted with "your dirty" and you reply, "you're."
My mom is complaining no one can send me emails because I send them to "Snoops." Yes, mom, "Snoops" and I are why we can't have nice frauds.
One good thing about Facebook is how it will ultimately kill the entire high school reunion industry.
Amazing that I can fit three laptops in the same space a social life used to take up!
My husband's ex girlfriend is sitting in her living room watching tv. Don't ask me how I got this information.
If cavemen had Twitter we would still not have fire.
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
I like old stuff. It reminds me of people I've never met and a time I've never known and how interesting it all must have been.
These original theater seats, for example. I bought them at the Pasadena Flea Market in 2002 for $300. Underneath one of them is a wire rack that was made expressly for gentlemen to stow their brimmed hats when they went to the movies. So they wouldn't block the view of the people sitting in back of them. Because apparently people were more polite back then. And probably didn't annoy others by talking on their cell phones even though they didn't exist. The cell phones, not the people.
I spent years searching for a 1950's era TV. There was a thrift shop in LA that sold them but every time I went in to ask for one, the man who owned the place laughed and said they spent about 6 seconds in the shop before they were sold. He put me on a waiting list. 16 years ago. He still hasn't called me.
My dad lived in St. Petersburg, Florida and died in 2001. I spent a lot of time there trying to get his estate in order (it eventually took me 3 years) (fuck). On one trip I found this beauty for $75.00. I was shocked because the price for a 1950's era TV starts at $500. Starts.
By the time I got back to the shop with my Dad's car, the owner had returned and was FURIOUS that his sales guy, a kid about 19 years old, had let the TV go for so little. I played dumb when the owner asked me if I was aware of how much these televisions normally went for. Fortunately for me I'm very good at playing dumb. I'm not only blonde but I have a Bachelor's Degree in Theater. This might have been the only time it came in handy. Sorry Mom and Dad.
I can't tell you how many times I patted myself on the back for scoring a $500 TV for $75.
I'd get up in the morning, look in the mirror and say, "Good morning, genius." And also, "Good morning Angelina, breakfast will be right out."
To crate and ship the TV across country cost me $500.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Monday, December 12, 2011
Wednesday, December 07, 2011
Sidebar: I would give away my jewelry collection to be called an aging teenager JUST ONE MORE TIME. Thanks, God.
So leave me a comment and you'll be eligible to receive this book for FREE. If you're not a winner, you can go to the link above and buy it off Amazon. But Free is better. At least that's what people tell me.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Rachael holds regular pity parties on her blog but they're not like my pity parties. Or probably yours.
If you want to know where she got this card go to Rachael's blog and ask her! And follow her on Twitter at @happyrachael.
I was a reluctant Twitter convert but have now been on it for TWO YEARS. (thanks to this person) I can't say enough about how it's changed my life. Much more than blogging.
And now I'm on Google+, Facebook, LinkedIn, Tumblr and favstar.fm.
The nightmare never ends.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
2. I have a titanium bar in my back and no it's not stocked with alcohol.
4. I left home when I was 17 but would have left earlier if my parents weren't such MEAN ASSHOLES.
8. I prefer going to the movies by myself. Although I used to put my Yorkie in my purse and take him along. Mainly because he didn't talk during the movie.
9. I have one sister and have had 4 stepbrothers and 1 stepsister.
11. If I can come up with 25 things for this list I'll be amazed.
12. I never had any female friends who didn't work until I met bloggers.
13. I don't like diamonds.
14. All of my dishes are black and white but in different patterns.
15. Number 14 is kind of dumb for a list of 25 things you didn't know about me. I mean seriously, who cares what kind of dishes I have?
16. I believe in reincarnation.
17. I can't believe some bloggers make a '100 Things You Didn't Know About Me' TAB.
18. I love to travel. The more exotic the place, the better.
19. I never wanted my own children but dated 4 men who had kids. And I loved them all. The kids, I mean.
20. I've been performing since I was 14 and performing professionally since I was 15.
21. My favorite activity is getting into bed and reading. This explains why I have no boyfriend.
22. Don't ask me for my opinion because I'll tell you the truth.
23. I'm a member of SAG and AFTRA.
24. I have terrible taste in men. If there's an asshole on the loose, I'll find him.
25. I'm a great cook.
BONUS 26. After bitching and moaning I'm now on Facebook.
Tuesday, November 08, 2011
Only Pfc Rojas isn't going because he's in the National Guard.
The other three are being deployed to Afghanistan.
I shook their hands, thanked them for their service.
I've entertained boys like them in Germany, Holland, Bosnia, Macedonia, Johnston Atoll, Japan and South Korea.
I only broke down once, in Germany. A long line of soldiers paraded by our autograph table. I was with comedians Kivi Rogers and Carl Banks on that tour. We signed programs and spoke to each man and finally, one very young boy at the end of the line said to me, "Can you write on this that you hope we stay safe?"
I nodded and signed and after that fought hard to hold back tears but didn't entirely succeed. I turned my head to the side so no one would see but a reporter for the military newspaper Stars and Stripes did and walked over to me.
"I will be. It's just that these boys...these boys break my heart."
Wednesday, November 02, 2011
This is Tricia, also known as Sassy Pants Momma. She has the funniest tag line of any blog I've ever read.
The most annoying thing about this tee shirt is that it looks good on everyone but me. It even looks better on the assorted dogs, Elmo's and mannequins that people have sent in. I'd like to say it's because my enormous rack stretches it out and makes me look like I have porn star 44 GG's but having seen some of the racks under some of these Teeshirters, that's a lie. Not that I've actually seen these racks in the flesh. Purely over the shirt speculation when I drive by their homes and look inside with my binoculars.
I forgot where that sentence was going and should call out a search party on it.
Tricia's up on my sidebar where she will stay until someone else sends in a picture of them wearing it JUGGLING JENN I'M TALKING TO YOU. I hope you have a good book, Tricia, you're going to be there for a while.
Monday, October 24, 2011
So I certainly can't get behind any of these things:
People have suggested I came too late to the Simpsons party and that it was better in the beginning. The beginning of what? The end of time?
End of chat.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Look how cute Neal is:
I met Neal on Twitter, when he made a particularly brilliant joke on the day Steve Jobs died. "More Jobs lost on Obama's watch" was the tweet and some of his fans thought it was "too soon." If you're a comedian or a joke writer on in any aspect of the comedy business, you know there's no such thing as too soon in comedy. Funny is funny.
So I tweeted him that I thought it was hilarious and we began a conversation that culminated on me being on his show, where we discussed Astroglide, the Rapture and Michael Richards being a dick. From the moment we first spoke on DM's to the show? Two weeks.
The power of Twitter.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Los Angeles has a metric ton of these apartment buildings. I can't even guess as to what year this is from; I think the built-in airconditioners might be a clue. This one could sit on a suburban street where Mad Men stenographers live. Instead, it's up the street from me.
To see the rest of this series of Los Angeles photos, click on the link below. They're not all normal but I guess I probably didn't have to mention that.
Monday, October 10, 2011
People might think before they act.
Which brings me to where I now live:
This picture is the western sunset captured off my balcony. In my other apartment, I had no view. One side of it looked out on the building's swimming pool and the other side overlooked a big Hollywood Hills street, Gower. Gower reaches up into the hills on its way to the Hollywood sign and winds crazily around homes and yards. But when it passed the back of my old building, it carried only cars or ambulances and during the summer, many, many tour buses. Many.
The street is so noisy that many people complained they couldn't sleep. One girl never got used to the noise and slept in her living room. She now lives elsewhere.
So now I'm in an apartment with a spectacular view. This is the southern scene from my living room window. Far in the distance I can see the red blinking lights of the LAX towers and planes coming in for a landing.
On some nights I'm lucky enough to catch the full moon.
Had my old landlords been required to put First, do no harm in their lease, I would not be in this new building. A better building, with a laundry and trash chute on each floor, an elevator and security underground parking. I would not have a built-in air conditioner or all new appliances. When I stand by my refrigerator I look down on a rooftop swallowed by pink Bougainvillea and cypress trees crawling with purple Morning Glory.
And the best part of this entire story? MY OLD LANDLORDS HAVE 3 VACANCIES IN MY OLD BUILDING AND CAN'T RENT THEM. Having not noticed that every Hollywood neighborhood was littered with For Rent signs, they jacked the rents of their pitiful one bedrooms to over $1300. One has been vacant since June 1, mine has been vacant since July 1 and another since September 1.
It's called Karma.
When your intention in life is to purposefully harm another, karma will visit you.
Thursday, October 06, 2011
There are many things that went on too long:
The Beanie Baby - BUT IT ENDED.
Jon Gosselin's career - BUT IT ENDED.
The Presidency of George W. Bush - BUT IT ENDED.
Andy Rooney - BUT IT ENDED.
Harry Potter Books - BUT IT ENDED.
Saturday Night Live - IT SHOULD HAVE ENDED.
Ke$ha - LORD LET IT END SOON.
Rap music - HOW HAS IT NOT ENDED?
Jerry Springer - GIVE ME A SHOTGUN AND I'LL END IT FOR HIM.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
I see people lurch towards me with outstretched arms, like some Frankenstein off his meds, and try to grasp me in a claw-like embrace that, were I anorexic, would kill me. Although once they've got me in their clutches, I want to be killed.
Some of the worst offenders of the hug:
The Mom Hugger:
Please take your snot filled sweater and your poop-stained hair and walk away. Keep going. No, further, I can still smell your diaper genie.
The Drunk Hugger:
Please breathe on me harder because I have a cold sore I need disintegrated.
The I've Never Met You Hugger:
I DON'T EVEN KNOW YOU, PSYCHO.
The Lonely Hugger:
Yes, I can tell you have no friends because now my 34 C's are 32 A's. Let go. No seriously, LET GO.
The Uncle Hugger:
"Uncle" means Sex Offender. Look it up on the Internet. God knows you spend enough time there.
Female Celebrity Huggers Hugging Other Female Celebrities:
Not interesting unless they both have very big breasts.
My Mother Hugger:
You have me confused with your other daughter, the one you love.
When I got hired to do Seinfeld I was told it was a No Hugging Set. I thought they were geniuses.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
I was glad I was wearing a baggy dress. And yes, Nova Scotia is part of Canada.
Monday, September 19, 2011
So I made up something called BlogHer Adjacent. A send-up of what people who live heartbeats away from Beverly Hills call where they live, Beverly Hills Adjacent. They made up that name rather than admit they didn't make the cutoff to 90210.
So I tweeted that I'd be in the lobby of the Marriott Hotel from 2 pm until late that evening on the Saturday of BlogHer and asked people to DM me their cell phone numbers. And they did. Poor bastards didn't even see it coming.
I met some of my favorite people, bloggers I'm sure you know and love. Well, at least know.
Like these people and these people and her and these people (plus the back of Jenn's head which I forgot to note in the original picture. She was also my gracious host on Friday night and let me sleep in her guest room). I also met her and these people. And this duo, one of whom I picked up at LAX the Tuesday before BlogHer. Don't you hate people who link like this? People tell me not to do it this way because it drives traffic away from my site. Please, there are plenty of things that drive traffic away from my site without obnoxious linking.
This photo was taken at the table I commandeered in front of the Marriott Starbucks. I looked up to see someone crossing the lobby wearing my tee shirt and couldn't believe it. Then I recognized her from her blog.
She bought a tee shirt a long time ago and never sent me a picture of herself wearing it. Turns out she didn't realize the upside to buying a shirt was a link on my sidebar and the opportunity to be seen by tens of people.
Since I've been so late posting this, I decided to leave her picture and link to her blog up until I sell another shirt, or get a few of the people who already have shirts to send in their pictures.
Cough cough Vodkamom.
Her blog is funny. You should read it. She free-associates like no one else.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
I often pretend I own it.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
So I have to post this so you can see the post that didn't get posted.
Read below to see the post that blogger and Google fucked up.
She agreed never to die. It wasn't so much a promise as a threat.
I watched on September 11 as a crowd gathered around a bar at LAX while the wounded World Trade Center still stood. A flight was called to its gate. People picked up their magazines, carry-ons and books and casually walked away from the lounge area. I thought they were all crazy. Didn't they see what was happening on TV?
There was a pregnant woman standing next to me and I told her we had to leave but she said she had nowhere to go. I suggested she get a hotel at the airport but she just stared at me. I stared back and then ran. I knew it was time to get the hell out of one of the major airports in the United States. And then Delta announced that all luggage was being returned. Their personnel flooded baggage claim. I remember a man found my bags in about 10 seconds. He threw them at my feet and said, "Now go."
Just so you know, a cab from LAX to wherever you live in LA is about a million dollars, maybe 2 if you have luggage. You either take a shuttle service or call a friend. I stood in the long line for cabs.
And I was one of the last taxis out before they shut LAX down.
I used to live in Manhattan. For 13 years. I'd had lunch at Windows On The World, the restaurant at the top of the World Trade Center, twice. Once you're a New Yorker, you're never anything else no matter where you live. It's a hard town to crack but if you manage, you wear the badge of *New Yorker* proudly. And I still did, even though I'd been gone for ten years.
On September 12 I called a high-ranking friend of mine in Washington and asked if Los Angeles had any reason to be alarmed. And if so I needed to know so I could grab my sister and our friends and get the hell out.
I received this message in return: "Beware the target an icon makes. And be careful."
Did she mean Disneyland? The Golden Gate? Or was it merely speculation from Washington? I'll never know. We've never discussed that message because it can't be discussed. Obviously.
I first heard of this truck last year. You might think I live in a cave if I'd never heard of something so large. And that tours the U.S. But I didn't. Mainly because I rarely open my cave windows.
And now, the truck:
(click on pictures to enlarge)
I read someone's blog where they dismissed people who mourned 9/11 as if it was their own personal tragedy, even though they'd not lost a friend or even lived in NY. Please. 9/11 is every American's personal tragedy. It's the world's personal tragedy because not just Americans were lost that day.
Because it changed the way we live.
Friday, September 02, 2011
A sink. Although in a pinch it could double for a toilet seat. Or if you want to rinse out your thimble collection, this would be a good place to do it.
Things currently on my Shit List:
1. Stop turning down the page corners of books. It hurts the book and I can hear it cry when I open it.
2. Stop bad writing like: "A grin tickled my lips" or any variation of how a smile appears on your face except for "I smiled" or "I grinned." F. Scott Fitzgerald thanks you and has stopped rolling over in his grave.
3. If I'm watching a movie with you and you talk during it? You will die.
4. Enough with the PC. Why do these bullies think that what THEY believe is what we all should believe? Yes, I called them bullies.
EXAMPLE: Bette Midler has been performing dressed as a mermaid rolling around in a wheel chair since the 1980's. Recently Lady Gaga did the same thing in Australia.
Gaga got into all kinds of PC trouble for it. "Insulting to people in wheelchairs!" Bette Midler never got in any kind of PC trouble for it because it was the 1980's, when people dressed badly, had really awful hairdos but were otherwise sane and tolerant individuals who could tell the difference between a show and reality. Not to mention parody and cruelty.
5. Stop answering your own comments in your blogs to boost numbers. Once I saw someone had 68 comments and I started to read the post. I couldn't for the life of me figure out how it got 68 comments until I started to read them and every other one was from the blog owner. We know it's a numbers booster and that you're not anymore popular than the rest of us.
6. After years and years of publicly eschewing social media like Facebook and Twitter, I readily jumped on board the Google+ train. They had 25 million new users in under a month. It took Facebook and Twitter two years to achieve those numbers. If you want an invitation, email me and I'll send you one. That's the only way you can join but since each member gets 150 invites, they've seen the future and the future is Google+.
If Google+ is not the future, I reserve the right to blame Facebook. Which always gets my Bite Me Award of the Century:
End of chat.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Hot Comes To Die - 58
Dooce - 68
President Obama - 89
Lady Gaga - 92
Justin Bieber - 100
I thought the scores only went up to 100 but there's a level 120. I think they had to add that for Bieber.
Sidebar: Don't ever make the mistake of smelling the perfume JB put on the market. It will kill you dead.
In my case, my fake importance surprises me. I'm not saying I don't get a lot of RT's on Twitter. That's when some people decide you said something smart or funny or stupid and all of Twitter needs to hear it. And they RT it, or Re-tweet it. So your stupid tweet goes out to even more people than your own followers. And like that annoying Joe Namath commercial from the 70's "and so on and so on and so on." You're worldwide stupid!
But when I saw this I was doubtful. 1000 RT's of ONE of my tweets? Seriously?
But this one is even better. I've had 500 unique mentions on Facebook? I'm not even on Facebook. Some people think I said something clever enough to transfer over there? That would imply that I'm not clever at all because it's FACEBOOK. Where all my high school friends and comedians I wouldn't sleep with congregate. Which is why I'm not on it.
And yet I'm on it.
And more importantly? I'm now black.
Friday, August 26, 2011
It appeared that because I was a comedian, some people felt an obligation to be funny. Of course I hadn't even noticed. I don't grade people's comments although I might start now.
And that's just not possible.
Mainly because very few people are funny. I see a lot of blog headers and Twitter bios of people claiming they're funny. If you have to announce that? I'm not sure you are. It's like telling a woman you're going to sleep with that you have a big dick. It can be proved wrong, eventually.
A recent convert to Twitter told me months ago that she didn't want to go on Twitter because she'd be constantly trying to think up one-liners. That's a job best left to comedians because good one liners are hard to write. The going rate on The Tonight Show used to be $100 per joke. Someone waiting on a big gig just offered me $5,000 to write ten new minutes for her if she got the job. As much as I would love the money? That ten minutes, approximately 30 jokes, is not going to be written in an afternoon. I only knew one person who could do that and he now writes for Joan Rivers. And the other person who can crank them out is head writer for The Oscars. And they're both brilliant at it.
So go on Twitter and be interesting. Believe me, that's hard enough.
Why is it so important to be funny?
Funny is subjective. Look no further than sitcoms, romantic comedies and books. The Liar's Club, by Mary Karr, has this notation on the back of the book: "The choice in the book is between howling misery and howling laughter, and the reader veers towards laughter." And the back cover also proclaims "A wickedly funny account of an apocalyptic childhood."
I'm a huge fan of Ms. Karr and that book is an apocalyptic tale, but funny? No. But I'm sure there's someone reading this who will violently disagree with my assessment of the laughter quotient in that book. And like those blog and Twitter headers and bios, you set yourself up to judgement if you say something is funny. Say humorous (completely different than funny) or amusing (also different) but don't say funny unless you want people to pick you apart like a King Crab leg.
Which brings me to dying. One person I talked about a lot in the beginning of this blog has died. I heard it third hand a few weeks ago. I referred to him as The Impotentate in this blog and he once told me the reason he was first attracted to me was because I was funny. That may have been what he thought was the reason but the real reason was that he thought HE was funny. Maybe he thought I could get him on TV? In the movies? Who knows. But I do remember this story.
One night he told me one of the oldest jokes in the history of joke writing:
A father walks into his son's room and sees the son is masturbating. He tells the son that if he keeps doing that he's going to go blind and the son replies, "Over here, Dad."
I didn't laugh. And he got mad.
For starters, comedians don't laugh at jokes. Usually not when a civilian tells it. They'll leave out a word, or their timing is off or they forget the punchline. Or the joke sucks. Comics barely laugh at each other. If I say to you, "That's funny," that's as big as it's going to get. Comedians know too much about the business of joke construction. We can pinpoint with alarming NASA like accuracy where that punchline will land. Occupational hazard.
I like to point out when something is funny. I'm not threatened by someone else's success in this area. If you wrote a funny book, told a funny speech and it made me laugh, I'll tell you. I'm not insecure about who I am in that regard. And you not telling me when I'm funny makes me think YOU might be insecure and think you're funnier than me, or that I'm not funny at all, but that's another day and our hour is almost up.
NOT FUNNY AT ALL WHUUUUUUUUUUUUUT?
So The Impotentate and I broke up many, many times and on one of our reconciliations, we were driving up north. I had a gig and we were going to spend the night at a nearby hotel. On the way up he told me the SAME masturbating joke he had told me years earlier. I realized he had no recollection of telling me the joke in the first place.
But this time I laughed. Because he was trying so hard to impress me with this lame joke. That he thought was funny.
Was it wrong that I laughed? Does it diminish the time I told you that you said something funny? Will you ever trust a compliment from me again?
Let's not forget The Impotentate was a man. Their egos don't allow them to believe they're not funny. I'm sure Albert Schweitzer thought he was a laugh riot.
So the Bite Me Award of the Week goes to everyone who thinks they're funny. But really aren't.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Monday, August 15, 2011
I have an essay in this book and I'll be blogging/tweeting/tumblring/google plussing it until it's actual publishing date. How annoying is THAT going to be?
My advice to you is just buy it because it's funny funny funny.
And not just because I'm in it. But mainly because I'm in it.
Tuesday, August 09, 2011
This is the living room in my new apartment:
Saturday, July 30, 2011
And that your vocabulary needs work if you can't find a synonym for the word 'things.'
I found all these pictures hidden in an album I forgot I had. Because I have too many things.
Exhibits A through D:
A. My sister and I appeared in our hometown newspaper holding balls. Prophetic.
But this was the one and only nuptials we agreed to participate in. Our father's 4th wedding. And that was because he paid our airfare. And wrote us each a check. And promised me a new car if I didn't swear.
I still have the same old car.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
This is Johann, one of our relatives on my Dad's side. I've been telling my sister since she was a zygote that I often get pictures of her and Johann confused when I go through our photo albums:
This is a picture of Lindy when she was 2 and a half. It's because of this photograph that I keep telling her she's adopted because we don't have any little man trolls on either side of our family:
God paid me back for all my emotional abuse by making her look like this when she was 13:
God is a spiteful man. Sorry feminists, but...
...MOST DEFINITELY A MAN.