It's Everybody Can Bite Me Friday!

The Doctor, the first boyfriend I had in NY, was on The Real Housewives of New York last night. While I Twittered with the East Coast one person remarked The Doctor wasn't good looking. So Connie, here's what he looked like when we first met. He's 18 years older than I am although I always say 20 because it makes me feel better. He has that Open Collar Chains Around The Neck thing going on and he's not even Italian.

Actually there was one boyfriend in front of him, Peter The Attorney. But it was doomed on the morning at his parent's house in Westhampton when Peter scratched his balls in front of his mother. Hand down the pants, scratching and jiggling as if The Holy Trinity had measles. Next! Peter and me a thousand years ago. I USED TO SMOKE!! And have Vidal Sassoon do my hair!!

All these *me* and *I* words that I have to conjugate correctly. Large groan on toast.

Back to The Doctor. There's nothing quite so infuriating as being in show business and spending enormous amounts of time trying to get back on TV and seeing your millionaire ex with his townhouse in Manhattan and his home in upstate New York appear on a TV show. Rude.

The Doctor was married when I met him. He and The Countess had an open marriage. Sometimes she and her boyfriend and The Doctor and I would double date. The Doctor and The Countess sat up front in their black Mercedes while her boyfriend and I sat in the back, sobbing and looking forward to a free meal.

The Doctor cheated on me. He had lots of girlfriends all over the U.S. and probably Canada. He also raced a Formula Atlantic and owned the car in the above picture. Women love a race car driver so never buy your man a $500,000 car.

Many people think sex addiction is just a phrase that's used as an excuse for bad behavior. And now some neurosurgeons believe the brain can tell whether or not you're predisposed to cheating. So not only does a person have to pass muster in the Car, Shoes and Penis Length department, now he'd better show up with an MRI. One clear of pale red blobs on either side of the temporal lobes.

The Doctor was not only a cheater but a control freak as well. It appears Tiger Woods is also and Jesse James?

The decision to let my wife end our marriage, and continue the adoption of Louis on her own..." James told People.

LET your wife? It's 2010, asshole, not 1959. Sandy, leave the kids and run for your life. Jesse will find another babysitter, I mean stepmother, and then those kids will be out of your life in any event. You are setting them up for a world of hurt by staying in their lives. My Dad had 4 wives, I know what I'm talking about.

Yesterday's Oprah with Rielle Hunter talking about John Edwards unearthed the worst kind of cheater. The cheater who falls in love. If a man is cheating for sex alone yes, it means there's something wrong in the marriage and if you believe in sex addiction, something wrong with the man. But when he falls in love? Just call your attorney and get on with your life.

So to all the men who dare to cheat on movie stars or have the nerve to appear on TV shows before their ex-girlfriend becomes a TV star, I award you the coveted, only not really, Bite Me Award.

End of chat.

Ellen Had It So I Wanted One Two Three Four

Right up there with having no makeup on and running into an ex-boyfriend with his new 21 year old girlfriend and being forced to eat tofu at a vegan restaurant because they don't have real food is my favorite pastime, working out.

I keep my free weights arranged like they do at the gym, all lined up in order of size. I have purple ankle weights to go with one of my workout ensembles although *ensembles* may be too strong a word for a torn black tee shirt and grey bicycle shorts that give me camel toe and are incidentally, nowhere near purple on the color wheel. My favorite is the 10 pound copper weight slash weapon that I got at the Salvation Army. Copper is so in this year and you'd know that if you regularly checked the What's In What's Out page of Harper's Bazaar. And who doesn't do that before you shop for exercise equipment?

I also use my blue Bun & Thigh Roller and keep it handy at all times. And by handy I mean next door in my storage unit, conveniently close to a trash can in case one day I have the strength to lift it and dispose of it properly.

When I saw the Shake Weight on Ellen I thought all my prayers were answered because they must have had me in mind: *A Dumbbell for Lazy People and by Lazy People we mean Suzy Soro in Hollywood, California.*

If they had only named it that I would now be wealthy and not have to answer my comments or follow people back.

Even though the premise seems simple enough, it just proves how little I know because the Shake Weight comes with a DVD to show you how to use it properly. This is the woman in the video, Anna Recksick.

Dear God in heaven I think women the world over long to be thin but do not want to be mistaken for a sinewy piece of beef hung up in a butcher's freezer. In the shot below, the space between her legs looks like one of the spans celebrated in the book The Bridges of Madison County.

I don't think I'm going out on a limb when I say this woman has I GIVE BLOW JOBS AT AUDITIONS written all over her.

End of chat.

What To Do If You Can't Afford Botox

I went into my local Beauty Supply and was lamenting the fact that Botox wasn't sold over the counter. In a cream. For $2.78.

The Beauty Supply chick recommended I try Hollywood's Beauty Secret for the forehead and between the eyes.

She assured me a lot of My People, unemployed actors who really wanted to direct but were writing a screenplay while waiting on tables, used Frownies religiously.

And by religiously I assumed she meant that My People packed them for a trip to Vatican City hoping to have them blessed by the Pope. Who really could only promise the Frownies would be having sex with underaged boys in the near future.

I wear them every night. And am surprised I have no boyfriend. And really should wash my hair more often.

End of chat.

L.A. Sign Of The Times #57

Rain is always a big deal in L.A. So is Lindsay Lohan. And like La Lohan, the gathering clouds are always more interesting than the actual event.

Ghosts Over Suzy

Longtime readers of this blog know I have ghosts around me. My Dad was the first person I ever told that I believed in reincarnation and he told me he did also.

What I now recognize as my first visitation happened in New York City in the 1980's. My Russian grandfather was in critical condition and lay dying in a Paris hospital. One day I was leaving my bedroom and when I rounded the corner, I heard a crash. I turned around and saw that a picture of him had fallen over. His picture was next to a clock and I noticed the time. My mother called the next day to tell me he had died. At exactly the time the picture had fallen over. I knew he had come to say goodbye.

Below is a picture of me and a friend taken in my apartment. I appear to be strangling her with IHaveNoIdeaWhat. I'm also holding a dish towel. I am clearly not normal.

Sidebar: I'm wearing my fabulous snakeskin Guess jeans that I still need to lose 4 pounds before I can get into them again. When I find the person who invented food I will KILL THEM DEAD.

The white spots in the photo are only on me, not my friend. On the entire roll of film this was the only picture affected.

So many of these things happen to me that I wrote a book called His Dead Wife. It has no ending.

I've chronicled in this blog how both my stereo and bedroom TV often turn themselves on and off. Usually in the middle of the night, forcing me to get up and retrieve a very large manly man hammer out of my tool box. GHOSTS HAVE A SENSE OF HUMOR.

I think I've talked about some of the things that happened in Florida, both before and after my Dad died. It's all in the book but I can't remember what's exactly in this blog.

I may also have mentioned that when I was 4 years old I had an imaginary friend with a very unusual name. A name so odd that my parents asked me constantly who the hell was I talking about? As an adult I found our family tree and discovered the name had belonged to a female relative, now deceased. I knew her from the other side. Of that I'm very sure. And I've never heard the name again.

These are just the stories I can sum up in a sentence or two. Most of them are way more intricate and way, way more creepy. Over the last 20 years, besides my grandfather, I've had visitations from my Dad, my dog, one of my stepmothers and of course, His Dead Wife. And others. I'm sure there have been others.

I'm used to it. And I'm not the only one.

I now know that major electronic activity around me precedes certain events in my life that I can't mention here on my blog. Maybe one day I can, when it all ends, if it ever ends.

I wish I could talk about it. It's exhausting keeping it to myself but others are involved so...

Does My Mom Hate Me?

My mother made this for me a few years ago in honor of her daughter who makes people laugh for a living. She strongly disapproves of my career choice - LET IT GO MOM IT'S BEEN 25 YEARS ALREADY - which might explain what's going on in my eyes.

Serial killer? Despot? UNMARRIED DAUGHTER?

L.A. Sign(s) Of The Times #56

Even our downmarket restaurants and motels get into the Hollywood of it all.

It's Everybody Can Bite Me Friday!

I'm one of the plaintiffs in a $70 million dollar lawsuit. There's a lot of paperwork involved and it has to be turned in by the 13th of this month so of course I waited until the last minute to get it all done because I have it confused with studying for the SAT's. So I went to Kinko's with some of the stacks and stacks of documentation needed and managed to make 44 copies of my driver's license.

And my American Express card.

You know, just in case I need bulk items to hand out as Christmas gifts.

Thankfully the store refunded all my money and took the copies. I left and twenty minutes later realized they had 44 copies of my driver's license.

And my American Express card.

You know, just in case they need bulk items to hand out as Christmas gifts.

I drove back to the store, went through their trash and fished out the discarded papers. And you know what I learned from going through Kinko's trash? People don't throw away anything valuable. EXCEPT ME.

So today's award goes to me which is ironic since when I was a kid if I got mad at my parents I would bite my arms and what is going on with this sentence structure? And what happened to Jenny and Jim splitting up? Maybe I should have just talked about that. End of chat.

It's Everybody Can Bite Me Friday!

Just when you thought you might have to take the fat from under your upper arms and have it injected into your ass, along comes the Butt Lifter. This is the kind of thing you'd be wearing on the one day you meet someone you'd actually like to have sex with. Then you'd have to spend an hour in his bathroom taking it off and then you'd remember you left your purse in his living room and so where are you going to hide it and at that point you might as well put it back on and say you think you left your oven on and just leave, hoping he doesn't notice you've stolen his Xanax from the medicine cabinet.

You can get a butt lift from a plastic surgeon but it's a lot more expensive than the butt lifter above. They cut a hole in the top of your head and pull all your skin up about 4 feet. Your butt might now be your new back but hey, it's lifted! As everyone who reads me knows, I've had plastic surgery. And I can spot it from across a sale's rack at Barney's, which is impossible because I never go to a sale at Barney's. Because I admit to it people always ask me if they should have it. They claim they want my honest opinion but they really don't. They want to be told they look perfect and beautiful the way they are and frankly, that gene pool isn't as large as we'd all like to believe. I'm still embarrassed about the one person I lied to back in NYC. A comic who had Alfred Hitchcock's jowls and no chin. I said I didn't think he needed his face done.

The downside of that lie was that everyone in hearing range later suggested I might be going blind.

Rude.

This is a picture of actor Bill Pullman, Meg Ryan's fiancé in Sleepless in Seattle. It was taken after he had a forehead lift. Or maybe he was just wearing the Butt Lifter and his face is contorted because it was pinching The Holy Trinity. Please don't write me and tell me I'm going to hell for that. I'm in show business in fucking Hollywood. I'M ALREADY IN HELL.

OPI named the above nail polish Suzi Says Feng Shui. Besides spelling my name wrong, they also apparently talked to my friends, family and former clients. I've done interior redesign for many, many years. When I walk into people's homes they ask me what I'm going to do and I always say Feng Shui.

So thanks for stealing my life, OPI, and I hope you choke on the profits.

In closing, and I bet you're thanking God right now that I'm at the end, I'd like to empathize with all the people who I know are going through dental hell along with me and my Bridge To Nowhere. The last time I went in they said "You haven't healed yet so you'll have to come back in 3 weeks and before you go could we borrow your credit card for a few minutes?"

So this one's for you Dr. Goebbels and staff: