My New Year's Wish

I wish you all a hangover.

That's the least you can do for me since I stopped drinking.

End of 2008

L.A. Sign Of The Times #40

The McPoundersons

Surely you haven't forgotten the bitch slap post on my upstairs neighbors, have you? I'm not even going to bother to link it because their name says it all. They're professional hammerers or indoor oil drillers or people who test concrete shoes for the mob.

They're now going for the Hall of Fame.

They've removed their carpet and installed some sort of tile, which our new building manager says is ugly. Like that helps me. They've also installed a washing machine that is right over my bed. Their wooden picnic table and benches, which scream every time they're scraped in and out on the tiled floor, are also over my bedroom.

During 3 days of the loudest remodel in the world, I went blind.

I've heard they're pregnant and unless I'm mistaken, babies cry. And eventually bounce balls and scream obscenities at their parents. Or maybe that was just me. I asked another mother with grown children who in their right mind would install tile because of a baby and she replied,"Carpets can produce allergies." I grew up in an almost fully carpeted house and it's a MIRACLE I'M ALIVE. I tripped on a cord a few weeks ago and landed on my chin. Thank God there was carpeting or I would have split open my jaw. And bled to death on my way to the phone. Where 911 would probably have put me on hold.

I live in a singles building. No manager here has ever rented to couples with babies or small children. We have a pool with no winter cover, we have a bajillion stairs and our building has a courtyard with an echo so that when flies buzz in, it sounds like the Luftwaffe is passing over.

Sunday they had a child upstairs who ran back and forth training for the 2020 Olympics. Maybe they're practicing by babysitting? They're not going to make very good parents because they didn't try and trip the kid once. After hours of trying to write, I sent them an email because I was out of ammo.

Thank God for the Christmas sales.

End of chat.

It's Everybody Can Bite Me Friday!

3 down, 2 to go:

1. Halloween, no kids to steal candy from.

2. Thanksgiving, no gifts AND weight gain.

3. Christmas, I do not want the pity invitation so you will have someone to talk to your 400 year old grandfather. I'M NOT THAT OLD.

4. New Year's Eve, duh.

5. Valentine's Day, triple duh.

6. End of list

Smells Like Teen Friday

Go read all the Mommy Bloggers before you read this.

I'm not kidding. Go.

Get all the sweet pictures of everyone's little darlings wrapped in Christmas paper and sucking on dolls' toes and the dog wearing reindeer antlers into your systems first. I want you to have a reason to feel good about life before the disgust of my blog sets in and you tell me I need a hug or some other retarded thing. Please don't ever tell me I need a hug. Cash yes, hugs no.

Yesterday I caught an episode of the Duggar marathon, the people with 17 kids.

With a SAG strike looming, many shows KO'd by the writer's strike, producers are looking for more shows like this. The Duggars get paid, get tons of freebies and PR while actors and writers who've spent a lifetime honing their craft for peanuts, just for the love of the art form, watch with mouths agape at how ridiculous Hollywood has become. Yes, let's give the HOUSEWIVES OF THE O.C., NYC and ATLANTA tons of money because we all know how poor they are.

Producers are the equivalent of Bernard Madoff. Only it's corporate greed masquerading as entertainment. I hope they, along with Steven Spielberg (doesn't he have enough money that he had to go with Madoff too?) lose it all and one day have to look at life the way artists do. At least the Japanese and French have the right idea; make a huge financial mistake and then kill yourself.

Merry Christmas.

Now go check out Part 9 of my memoir, All The Bad Sex I've Had AND IN SPITE OF THAT WAS NOT IRRESPONSIBLE ENOUGH TO HAVE 17 KIDS.

Scrooge out.

Why Douche Is Not An Insult To Me

I’m half French and speak it and in French douche means ‘shower.’ So whenever I hear someone call another person a ‘douche.” I always think, Yeah, that’s brutal, dude. You shower.”

So I have to say douche bag. Which I quite enjoy.

And yes, the French bathe regularly and shave their armpits. I've been insulted by this lame prevarication since MIDDLE SCHOOL. It's what people do, bring others down to make themselves feel better.

Man, I have no idea how Polacks got through life. Now if you don't mind I'm going to watch a special on Yanni and the Baby Jesus. Because I'm out of Xanax.

End of chat.

And The Winner is....

This is the winner of the Ugly Item Of Clothing Contest. It was also the only entry so even though you all LIED to me all year about how EXCITED you were to enter this contest, it all came down to you're a bunch of liars. i.e. my kind of people.

So this poor lucky bastard wins this Tee Shirt. The very last in a series that Single, Married & Divorced printed. That dot on the shirt is from the camera and isn't on the shirt. No, I'm giving away my dirty laundry. Actually it's kind of a relief that all the contests are over. A year of shoe contests wiped out what little brain I had left. Then the Uproarious CD contests wiped out the rest. Beckie, the winner of one of the CD's is finally getting her prize and I'm also sending out the tee shirt, but AFTER Christmas, so I don't have to stand in line for 2 years. Health update, I'm walking better and my hands are still numb but I can use them more. But I still don't want to stand in line for 2 hours.

End of contests.

It's Everyone Can Bite Me Friday!

So much bitching, so little time. "Merry Christmas." I grew up saying it and "Happy Holidays" means we have to include Washington's Birthday, July 4th and Martin Luther King day.

I refuse.

If you're Jewish say Happy Hanukkah if you want. Same goes for Kwanzaa. But don't shame the rest of us by taking away what we like best. And if we can't threaten little kids with Santa's naughty or nice list, then you, the parent, are totally fucked. Child rearing is all about bossing the little people around. With Happy Holidays what are you going to say? "If you're not good this year I'm not taking you to the white sale at Macy's for Memorial Day?

This is one of my favorite pictures ever. Not the big one but the one below it of Leslie and her son J. Single, Married & Divorced was doing a photo shoot and at the end the photographer indulged Leslie with what was supposed to be a Christmas card shot. J, however, who was perfect throughout the shoot, decided he was done for the day.

Single, Married & Divorced

I came across this great quote in New York Magazine:

"Career women, especially those of a certain age, recognized themselves in Clinton and the reactions she provoked. "Maybe what bothers me most is that people say Hillary is a bitch," said Tina Fey in her now famous Bitch is the New Black skit. Let me say something about that: Yeah, she is. So am I...You know what? Bitches get stuff done. At least being called a bitch implies power."

I have to admit that I don't like mamby-pamby women or men. I love me some bitches. They're a lot more fun and I'm happy that I have so many who read this bitchy blog, including my gays, who are the best a bitch like me could hope for. Now bring us some dirty martinis and tell me which shoes go with this skirt.

My theatre mentor from Arena Stage in D.C., Robert Prosky, died last week at the age of 77. He was the one who urged me to audition for the main company and I got in and then turned it down because I was in love with a man who grew up, married a rich woman and played the guitar all day. Have I mentioned I have terrible taste in men?

Prosky was one of the best character actors in the business. He was also a sweetheart. My thoughts go out to his family.

And lastly, a girl in our building died. 32 years old, she had just gotten her first big movie role. Died of natural causes, apparently. Toxicology is being done now. She lived alone with her cat and eventually when her parents couldn't find her, they filed a missing person's report. She died 2 days after Thanksgiving and was found a week later when the police broke into her apartment. Her death brought up a few issues for many of us. For starters, the police lie, which they are allowed to do to get information. They told me everything was 'fine' when I asked what was going on in her apartment with 7 cops, 3 patrol cars, 2 Morgue vans and one Morgue car when in fact she was lying face down on her carpet, dead.

The girl who lived next door to her broke her lease and moved out because she was scared. She probably unwittingly moved into a new place where someone had died. Anyway Marissa, I wrote this to say you are not forgotten.

End of chat.

Robert Prosky

What Would Emma Do?

This new book is from one of my favorite authors and bloggy friends, Eileen Cook, the writer of the hilarious Unpredictable. which I profiled in a shoe contest.. Here's the press release for her new book, What Would Emma Do?

Thou shalt not kiss thy best friend’s boyfriend…again….

There is no greater sin than kissing you best friend’s boyfriend. So when Emma breaks that golden rule, she knows she’s messed up big-time. Especially since she lives in the smallest town ever, where everyone knows everything about everyone else….and especially because she maybe kinda wants to do it again. Now her best friend isn’t speaking to her, her best guy friend is making things totally weird, and Emma is running full speed toward certain social disaster. This is so not the way senior year was supposed to go.

Time to pray for a minor miracle. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s time for Emma to stop trying to please everyone around her, and figure out what she wants for herself.

What others are saying:

“Sassy and sly and sweet all at the same time, this book made me laugh out loud.” – Meg Cabot, author of the Princess Diaries

“Not since Judy Blume’s Margaret introduced herself to God has there been such a funny, geuine, conflicted, wanna-be-sort-good-maybe-later girl as Emma. Eileen Cook’s tone as she takes on the big ones – life, love, faith and friendship is pitch perfect.” – Jacqueline Mitchard, author of Deep End of the Ocean and Midnight Twins

“Smart and fun and full of heart.” – Sarah Mlynowski, author of Bras and Broomsticks

About the Author:

Eileen Cook spent most of her teen years wishing she were someone else or somewhere else, which is great training for a writer. When she was unable to find any job postings for world famous author, she went to Michigan State University and became a counselor so she could at least afford her book buying habit. But real people have real problems, so she returned to writing because she liked having the ability to control the ending. Which is much harder with humans.

You can read more about Eileen, her books, and the things that strike her as funny at http://www.eileencook.com/. Eileen lives in Vancouver with her husband and two dogs and no longer wishes to be anyone or anywhere else.

Buy the Book

A Day Of Harmony

A few weeks ago Jenny and her mom went scuba diving and I got Miss Harmony for the day. She's part Chihuahua and part Jack Russell and, like all mutts, very smart. She ran ahead of me while we went down the 3582 stairs. Then by the second set she went down one by one. She could see I had trouble. The second time we went for a walk she went down behind me, realizing I was struggling. Once outside I accidentally dropped her leash and it took me 3 steps to realize it and when I turned back in a panic, she was staring at me, waiting.

My sister's Shih-tzu, Yoshi, runs ahead of you on stairs and then gets to the sidewalk and decides to nap. Sometimes we have to drag him and he never goes where you want him to go. But when he stares at you, as he does often with me, it's cause he knows there's something wrong. And not just in my head.

Remember that old folks home in the news a while back? It had a cat that would lay in the bed of the next person to die. Yoshi slept like that in one of my sister's neighbors beds and she died the next day. When he comes near me while I'm lying down I use a fly swatter to keep him away.

Anyway, Harmony spent all day curled up in a ball until I caught her doing this behind my back:

"Where the hell is my mommy?"

"Mommy, are you there? It's me, Harmony, and I'd like to come home now. Call me back when you get this message. PLEASE!"

She fell asleep waiting for Jenny to call her back.

End of nap.

Something For All Of Us

Part 8 of my memoir is up at scrivel . That's the me part.

Here's the you part:

Subj: Comedy contest
Date: 12/8/2008 2:15:27 PM Pacific Standard Time
From: charlie.kondek@mslworldwide.com
To: suzysoro@aol.com

Hi, Suzy. I'm writing to tell you about something I thought would be of interest to you or your readers - a comedy writing contest. Philips Norelco is teaming up with FunnyorDie.com to find the best body grooming tales in a new scriptwriting contest. Two lucky winners will have their scripts, or “Manalogues,” professionally produced and posted to the award-winning Shave Everywhere Web site. http://www.shaveeverywhere.com/

Beginning December 3, 2008 and running through January 2, 2009 guys can submit their stories at ShaveEverywhere.com. I don't know if you've seen the Manalogues yet, from the same people that brought you "the bathrobe guy," but I hope you check it out. They're performed by Bryan Callen of MadTV. And you can check out the “Body Groomers Bare All” contest section on the site to see how the writers from Funny or Die tackled this hairy topic. Visitors to ShaveEverywhere.com will determine 10 finalists by popular vote from which two winners will be selected by the writers from Funny or Die. The grand-prize winner will receive an all-expenses paid trip to be on location in New York City for the script’s production, and one runner-up will score a selection of Philips consumer electronics and personal care products.

Thanks so much for your time! We're trying to let as many people as possible know about this in time to meet the deadline. Please let me know if you have any questions!

Best,

Charlie



Charlie Kondeck

Director of New Media Relations

a: 115 W. Liberty St., Suite 200, Ann Arbor, MI 48104 USA

o: 734-214-1550 x 101 f: 734-214-1551 m: 734-576-6754

e: charlie.kondek@mslworldwide.com

w: mslworldwide.com

It's Everyone Can Bite Me Friday!

I'm sorry I have to show you this but if ONE MORE PREGNANT BLOGGER SHOWS HER STOMACH ON THE INTERNET, then I can surely show you this.

I had dropped some weight. Over 20+ lbs down to 123. But it didn't occur to me that my Victoria's Secret pajamas with a tie string would no longer fit and almost expose the cooch. I told you I wasn't good at math. So I put them on in sub-zero Ohio weather and this is what I looked like. AND I'M NOT EVEN HOLDING IT IN. Not as gross as pregnant women showing their distorted stomachs but pretty darn close. What should I name my poochy stomach? McFatterstene?

Either that or I'm shrinking:

What was really annoying is that I sleep commando but not in their house. I would have turned into The Princess and The Ice Block.

Leslie's younger son F is 12. He has now set my camera so that it does what it's supposed to do and I no longer have to compress pictures before uploading. BUT HE DIDN'T TELL ME. I just found out when I took the P.J. pictures. The picture below is her older son J. He's 15 and was standing behind Leslie imitating her. Watch the video. She's yelling at me for not doing all my French jokes.

F took pictures in B&W and sepia because he clearly enjoyed the look of retardation on my face. He took all the pictures in Ohio.

He and J are both straight A students. J plays a stratocaster and has his own band and is the next Jimmy Page. I told F my hands were numb and he said, "You have nerve damage in your neck." I'm not sure my doctor knows that.

A picture of Leslie the way she always - ALWAYS - looks so she won't kill me for the picture above this one.

F the future Ansel Adams and neurologist.

I've known J since he was born, here in L.A. Leslie's husband is still handsome and plays a mean guitar himself. He worked with Loretta Lynn on the road and in the studio for over 20 years. Leslie wouldn't sing with him at a gig he had one night because he refused to learn her favorite songs. So she went home and raised the thermostat to 72. He finally noticed it the next day because there were no icicles hanging off our noses.

The kids DID introduce me to a very nice man while I was there:

If it's like all my other relationships, it'll last 3 years and then I'll wonder what the hell was I thinking?

End of chat.

Leslie's Backyard

These are their free-range chickens, which is Spanish for fat-free, tasteless and stringy. They eat air and snow and are the Nicole Ritchie of chickens:

These were the other two comedians on the bill with me: These are all "Outside Animals." They have 12 tons of fur and can't come indoors since then they wouldn't be able to cope outdoors and know I will shave them to make a throw out of their coats. You think this gorgeous calico below on the right would give me her coat? NO. Cats are really selfish.
This is Leslie's house, where all these animals live on 80 acres:

This is the barn where Leslie made me stay:

End of chat.

Let's Begin, Shall We?

This is my car.
This is Leslie's car.

This is the street behind my apartment.

This is the road behind Leslie's house. And the first person who says that road looks peaceful and bucolic gets a long distance hit on them from the mob. After I meet someone from the mob.

What's the ONE item from hell that I can't do? STAIRS. Leslie's house has 478 stairs. What's the other thing I don't do well? COLD WEATHER. It was 19 degrees in her town. What do I like to do inside? BE WARM. Leslie's husband and my father and every man on the planet keeps the thermostat at 60 degrees, in a big 4 bedroom house. They said otherwise their monthly bill would be $500. Who do I make the check out to?

More to come after I fold myself into the oven and warm up to 45 degrees.

End of chchchchat.

It Was Cold And I Don't Do Cold

As I was being driven to the Dayton Airport from St Mary's, Ohio at FOUR A.M., it decided to snow. Hard.

And believe me, I know hard.

No other cars on the road, the driver didn't know where his flashers were (New York Subway, duh) so, he turned the car around and I missed my flight. Oh goody, one more night in HELL.

I'd like to thank Northwest Airlines for putting me on a flight the next day with no change fee. As I talked to them they told me I was lucky to have missed the flight since it was going to Minneapolis where the weather was worse. Yesterday they had to de-ice the plane twice before they let us go.

I have MUCH more dish, including what is WRONG with Leslie's husband and how fabulous her kids are and how we also killed at the shows and how Leslie is trying to give me a heart attack.

The pics you send in HAVE to be yours. I can't accept stuff from the net, sorry, but they'll get the prize. ALSO, due to my readers comments, I'll accept hats, socks and gloves that are badly Christmased and any other stuff you think is ugly.

Please don't send me your neighbor's husbands.

Lots of pictures and bitching to come.

End of chat.

Hey Party Poopers

When are you going to start sending in your ugly Christmas sweater pictures? Did I mention it was THIS December and there are prizes?

I'm currently flying over some god forsaken part of the country and hate anyone who's sleeping right now. WHICH IS PROBABLY EVERYONE.

Remember the good old days, when Britney was psycho and then disappeared from sight? WHY IS SHE BACK? Who can I call to STOP THIS? Miley Cyrus?

End of chat.

In Case You Get Laid Off And Need A Hobby

This wood carving is a miniature of the Cathedral of Ulm in Germany and has 4267 separate pieces and was last valued at $115,000. In the 1960's.

I hate cold weather and I'm heading straight for it. It's supposed to be 40 degrees in Ohio and that's just wrong. At night it goes down to 27 and that's unforgivable. Gloves, hats, scarves, coats, sweaters, layering clothes and get this -BOOTS THAT CAN BE WORN IN THE SNOW? What kind of crazy shit is that?

I want to thank anyone who is following my novel and the other writers at scrivel. My latest entry is up now. Last month scrivel had over 40,000 page views!! Some people are printing my memoir out so they can read it all at once. These are the crazy people you should avoid at a Wal Mart opening on a Black Friday.

End of chat.

Ohio India Hillary

I'm doing two shows in Ohio this weekend.

Friday night I'll be at Romer's Catering Entertainment Complex in Greenville, Ohio. Dinner is at 6:30. Show is at 8:00 PM - $27 per person, which is totally worth it since I'M GOING TO BE THERE.

Saturday I'll be at Romer's Catering on the Westbank, Celina, Ohio. Same times and prices. There will be 200+ people so if you do make it to either show, come and find me and I'll buy you and a friend a drink. Unless you prefer sex.

LOOK AT THIS!

Dear Suzy

We are all fine - thanks for your concern.

I was at mumbai airport on 26th night travelling to Indonesia as Faculty at the combined meetings of the APOA Hip section, ASEAN arthroplasty association and Indonesian orthopaedic association, when the terrorists struck at the Taj and Oberoi.

I carried on with my trip and returned early this morning.

Regards
Ameet

My ankle surgeon doesn't even return my calls and we are not, after a YEAR, on a first name basis. Ameet asked me to call him by his first name when I got to Bombay and I only spent 2 and a half weeks there.

AND LOOK AT THIS!

Dear Suzy,We all are fine at Jaslok Hospital.The attack was only at the 3 places ie Taj Hotal, Oberai and Nariman House.Dr Pispati is also fine..With warm regards,

I WROTE THE HOSPITAL AND THEY WROTE ME BACK. It's kind of like the U.S., only not.

I always bring back some exotic things from any foreign country I visit, usually art, since I collect it. This is a hand-made wood carved elephant painted in 22 carat gold. It depicts the mahout taking a couple for a ride. Every mahout owns his elephant. I own the dust on it.
I have a huge turquoise and silver jewelry collection and couldn't pass this up. It has 31 grams of silver and I have no idea whether that's good or bad. Dry hands, much?
This is a statue of Shiva that sits on one of my night tables stealing my Xanax.
And finally, Hillary.

Although I'm thrilled about it, I guess those of you who believed in The Manorexic's change platform are not. And to all the Hillary Haters? No one has cared what you think for a very loooooong time.

In other news, welcome to the recession, the one started back in December of 2007. I guess they thought it was finally time to tell the children we're moving to a smaller house.

Market News Stocks fall sharply on consumer spending worries

NEW YORK (AP) - Confirmation that the nation is in a recession and signs pointing to a prolonged downturn sent Wall Street plunging once again Monday, hurtling the Dow Jones industrials down more than 600 points.

Fuck.

End of chat.

2 Down, 3 To Go

Single people hate the holidays. Well, normal ones do. There's always those holdouts who LOVE them. I avoid these people at all costs.

1. Halloween, no kids to steal candy from.

2. Thanksgiving, no gifts AND weight gain.

3. Christmas, I do not want the pity invitation so you will have someone to talk to your 400 year old grandfather. I'M NOT THAT OLD.

4. New Year's Eve, duh.

5. Valentine's Day, triple duh.

6. End of chat.