The 1 Question I've Never Been Asked

I did many interviews for my book, including one for author Jess Riley and this one, for author Adam Avitable. Adam asked me something that in over 80 career interviews I've never been asked. Which one of these 9 questions do you think it was?

1. Your book was a fascinating collection of chance celebrity encounters, stories about friends, and scandalous secrets. I guess my question is, how many sex tapes have you participated in?

I did two with a boyfriend in NY. We broke up after three years and all I could think about were those tapes. He was well known, although not in show business, and was a control freak. He routinely asked me to get his name tattooed on my left breast. This was years before Pam Anderson, Johnny Depp, and Angelina Jolie started marking up their bodies with the names of their love interests. My ex was ahead of the white trash times.

He and I are still friends and a few years ago I asked him if I could have my two tapes back, so I could destroy them.

“Two? Is that how many you think we did?”
“Well, uh, yeah.”
“You never could figure out when the red light was on.”

Which explains a lot about my show business career. And no, I didn’t tattoo his name on my left boob. I honestly don’t recognize the name that’s on there now.

2. How do you think your life would have changed if you had won the Star Search competition that you actually lost to Kermit Apio?

There were so many more people to battle before you got to the top tier of that show. Kermit was knocked out in the next round, which meant he wasn’t funny enough to win a second time. Which further cemented my belief that the judge who was so mean to me made sure I didn’t win my round because he knew I would have gone on to win. So in my version I would have won the second round, would now be spit-shining two Oscars, and be married to Ryan Gosling.

3. Do you think that there are any true, great celebrities anymore? What has reality TV done to the world of entertainment?

George Clooney is a great celebrity. So are Sandra Bullock and Julia Roberts. I Googled the greatest celebrities of all time and some guy had made a list on IMDb.com that included John Ratzenberger and Hilary Duff so my list might be off a little.

Reality TV has given everyday people the hope that they too can be on TV without having an ounce of talent. You no longer have to be thin, attractive or intelligent to be famous. So it’s made us all feel better about ourselves.

4. Your book is about your compulsion to go up and talk to celebrities. Has anyone ever done that to you?

About five years ago I was in a frozen yogurt shop and a woman stopped at my table and said, “OHMYGODYOU’RESUZYSORO.” I didn’t recognize her and asked where we’d met. She’d taken a standup comedy class and her teacher had taped me off a TV show and asked her to do my act for her final exam.

She’s probably still doing it.

5. I was surprised to see the serious turn of the book when you talked about the Hartman family. What made you decide to include that chapter among all the gossip and humor?

I loved Brynn and Phil and knew Brynn’s vilification in the press was never going to go away. At the same time I took the opportunity to screw the National Enquirer and risked that people who read what I did didn’t hate me for it. Brynn was a phenomenal friend to me, as was Phil, but I felt her side of the story needed to be told. One of their children wrote and thanked me for trying to preserve their mother’s name in spite of what she did. It was, obviously, a terrible time.

6. Name the top three celebrities who, if you saw them, you would run in the opposite direction. Why?

There aren’t any. I once made Flavor Flav take a picture with me. FLAVOR FLAV.

7. What does your sister think of the book?

She loved it but it depressed her because she forgot what a great life she used to have. And that she could have been Mrs. Johnny Carson. Snooze you lose.

8. If they made a movie version of this book, who would play you if you could cast anyone, dead or alive? Who would probably get cast instead?

If I cast: Amy Poehler
If Hollywood cast: Anne Hathaway
If mommies cast: Melissa McCarthy
If daddies cast: Sophia Vergara

9. Other than your book, what's your favorite book written in the last year?

Yours.

I Got A Book Deal!

I'm on deadline as the book is due in 6 weeks.

I won't be posting much.

You can thank me later.

Working Out Means Never Having To Say No Dessert For Me

Before I bought a scale I used to walk to the gym, weigh myself and then hike, and I use the word hike loosely here, the three blocks home. In my defense, the walk back was uphill. So a few years ago I decided to get serious and hire a trainer, or rather hire the one that Bally’s Gym assigned to me. He'd been Mr. Bulgaria twice, Mr. Northern California in the early 90’s and had written three fitness books, which was three more than I'd written. I felt sorry for him; his business card was an unevenly scissored piece of Xerox paper. He was earnest and committed and I knew he had a family waiting in a cramped one-bedroom apartment somewhere in Koreatown expecting him to put borscht on the table. He had that sad, vacant look that people who do not ever expect to catch up with life have.

I hate working out but I hate eating even more. I don’t like food. Hand me a pill called LUNCH and leave me alone. I refuse to cook. If you don’t want to impress me, invite me out for dinner and then ask me where we should go, what we should eat and what we should order. Then as we’re eating, ask me how my Sea Bass is, or if I want to try your Carpaccio or split a dessert. Just so we’re clear, I don’t like to discuss food, shop for food or try out new food at the trendy new restaurant in Who Cares, New Jersey. I can hardly wait until I’m rich enough to have Ina Garten move in. It’s the only reason I’m still breathing in and out.

I only kept going to the gym because there were cute guys there. But sometime in the last two years my gym became a meeting place for old Chinese women. Mr. Bulgaria deftly escorted me through them as if he was afraid I'd stop and spontaneously break into a mah-jongg game.

The gym rat in our family is my sister, who once graced the cover of Muscle & Fitness Magazine. She goes around spewing communist propaganda like, “I’m really craving an apple.” Please, Johnny Appleseed didn’t crave an apple. If you’re at her house and want something fattening to eat, you have to lick the grease off her stove. She’s the kind of person who you'll ask, “How do I look in this bathing suit?” and she’ll say, “You look fabulous.” Then ten days later she sees you in shorts and says, “Gee, you really look great; not like you did in that bathing suit.” She got so addicted to exercise that she had to join a 12-step program. I don’t think it worked because now she’s up to 27 steps. As for the rest of our family, we would rather die with a stent in our hearts than a deltoid on our wherever-the-fuck the deltoid goes.

I went to World Gym in Venice with her one day many years ago. Arnold Schwarzenegger owned it then and Stallone hung out there a lot. I was having a rough time in the business and my sister, who was friendly with both Arnold and Sly, had told them about my struggle. Sly was there that day and when she introduced me to him, he had that crooked half-smile going on and came towards me with his arms outstretched. “Aaaayyy, somebody needs a hug.” His bodyguards surrounded us and Sly hugged me like I owed him money. I knew he had had a rough ride in Hollywood before Rocky hit and I knew he understood where I was in my slide into artistic hell.

“Aaaayyy, don’t give up, it can happen to you,” Sly said. I’ve never given up because of that.

Sly and his body guards left and my sister and I began to work out in earnest. She did anyway, I was staring into space and wondering if Sly noticed that I hadn’t plucked my eyebrows. I watched as she admired her calves. Inspected them as if they had USDA stamped on them and were going to market in a refrigerated truck. A line formed. Now other people were inspecting her calves. Suddenly one of these voyeurs took time out from his busy schedule of ogling her and eyed me suspiciously.
“What’s that on the back of your arm?” he asked.
“A triceps?”
“Well,” he continued, “have a doctor look at it; it might be cancer.”


This was a repost from 2006. It was my 11th post! But it has a Sly Stallone anecdote that endeared me to the man for life. I'm so sad for him and Sasha and everyone who knew and loved Sage.

Me And Al Pacino

This is the first movie I worked on, Author, Author starring Al Pacino and Dyan Cannon.

I was an extra walking my dog at night. I took this screenshot off Netflix and I can't be seen because Al Pacino, BIG SHOT, covered my body as he passed me.

However, you can see the back end of my dog.

Show business is my life.

Some People Wish Their Dogs Were Thinner

I'm working on Jessica Bern's new TV web series Blog This and today's shoot was at the lovely home of the director's brother, who lives in Studio City, which is part of Los Angeles. But is in the dreaded 818 area code known as The Valley. L.A. is all snobby about area codes. Well, mainly I'm all snobby about area codes. No one else gives a shit. (everyone in LA gives a shit ) (about things like where to get a nice tofu dinner) (people in LA are annoying) (i'm not) (mostly)

Anyway, the director's brother has 3 dogs and this is the sign that's posted for their feeding. Apparently the one named Ziggy has a problem with eating food too fast.

How much do we love Ziggy?

Blog This - The Sitcom

Last night was the first table read for Jessica Bern's web series on First Run TV called Blog This. At a table read, the script is read out loud and changes are made, words are added, sentences are dropped. And even though the director wasn't there last night, most table reads include the director, who tells you what to do, or not do, and they usually 86 the piece of business that you thought was genius. Muttering under your breath is popular at table reads.

Here is Jess and Jeff, who plays her best friend on the show:


Here's the main cast. Maybe by the end of the shoot I'll remember everyone's name. But more likely than not I'll be calling everyone *darling* because it's the one Hollywood affectation that actually comes in handy when you're working with a big group of people. However, people will then yell at you and say, "YOU STILL DON'T KNOW MY NAME?" And then I'll say, "No darling, sorry."

Then I'll duck because a water bottle will probably be hurtling towards my head.

I play Nancy, the handyman. And I'm not saying handywoman because I still call flight attendants stewardesses. Yes, even the guy stewardesses.

Everyone in the cast is lovely and very funny and Jessica is the best audience in the world because she laughs at everyone and if you come up with a funnier line than she wrote? She'll use it.

We shoot this weekend and next weekend.

Stay tuned!

My Funny Valentine

If you want to give someone a nice Valentine's Day gift, buy this book. I have an essay in it so I might be a little biased. A lot biased, even. But there are tons of funny essays in it by other humor writers as well. They made me write that before I got my copy.

I've had my jokes published in The Huffington Post, The New York Post, The New York Daily News, The Edmonton Sun, The Calgary Sun, The Toronto Sun, The Los Angeles Times, The Philadelphia Daily News, The International Herald Tribune and Stars and Stripes. They were also featured in the seminal book on women in comedy, Performing Marginality by Joanne Gilbert.

But this is the first time an essay of mine appears in a book with pages that turn, as opposed to a download. I have nothing against downloads so stop typing your comment. And I didn't have to self-publish!! Yet. It's so intellectually satisfying to wave it in front of my family and yell, "I'M ONLY GOING TO CHARGE YOU RETAIL!"

I wish my dad was still alive because he would have bought hundreds of copies.

He followed my comedy career with an enthusiasm he usually reserved for bourbon. He often penned a joke or two and would say "You can use that if you want." It was really endearing as Dad often lamented he didn't pursue a career in humor. But his generation had to work to support families. First his own, then ours. I always feel bad for people who can't pursue what they feel their gift is, what their heart wants. As someone who did, I know how lucky I am. Even though the money isn't always there, I won't be on my deathbed saying "If only I'd..." But I will be on my deathbed saying, "Now, who can put my funeral on their credit card?"

After I'd done Seinfeld, Dad was at a dinner party at his Yacht Club in St. Petersburg. I don't recall my Dad being on any yachts in his lifetime unless the Army used them in World War 2.  He was seated next to a woman who patiently listened as my Dad went on and on and ON about how funny I was as a child.

"How old is your daughter now?" She asked when Dad stopped talking long enough to take a sip of his Manhattan.
"I don't know; she won't tell me."

He was funny. Everything I got, I got from him.

So this book is for you, Dad.



P.S. I'm signing my copy of My Funny Valentine and giving it away. Leave a comment (or many for a better chance) and I'll pick a winner by Sunday and speed it your way in time for Valentine's Day. Did I mention I'm in it? No? Well, I'm in it.

25 Things You Didn't Know About Me

1. I've never been to a costume party and if you go to them it's doubtful we'll ever be friends.

2. I have a titanium bar in my back and no it's not stocked with alcohol.

3. My favorite movie is Pillow Talk with Doris Day and Rock Hudson.

4. I left home when I was 17 but would have left earlier if my parents weren't such MEAN ASSHOLES.

5. My best friend is gay and we've been estranged 3 times yet always wander back into each other's lives. It goes without saying that we're both very stubborn.

6. I speak and read French yet got D's in French in high school and my first year of college. As you can imagine this went over very well with my mother, who's French, and my father, who was Hitler.

7. I've been engaged 3 times but was only in love once and not to any of the men I was engaged to.

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.

10. There are only 2 people who make me laugh. One is my friend Jane in New York and one is my sister.

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.

WTF Obama?

Last night in Burbank I met Private Ochenkoski and Private Norton. Both are 24 years old.

And Pfc Winn and Pfc Rojas, both 18 years old.

Only Pfc Rojas isn't going because he's in the National Guard.

The other three are being deployed to Afghanistan.

I told Private Ochenkoski I thought all the troops were coming home and he answered in a one word sentence.

"No."

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.

"You okay?"

"I will be. It's just that these boys...these boys break my heart."

Suzy And Neal Mayhem, Sitting In A Tree

If you missed the live broadcast of Minutes of Mayhem from the U.K. on Friday October 21, then you missed my interview. So here it is, I come in at the final half hour because you always save the best for last. Or because that's all the time you have left.

http://minutes-of-mayhem.com/podcastepisodes/

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.

Sometimes They Give Me The Opposite Of Money

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Yes, I Was On Card Sharks

I wore a green dress. I found a picture of it and spent the better part of an afternoon wondering why I was buying black and white film back then when if I'd bought color I could wait until 2011 and photoshop it to black and white.

That's my then best friend Matt sitting next to me and my mother is next to him. Notice how I was a big fan of tanning. And peroxide.

I had no idea how to play Card Sharks. A friend of mine had gone on the show and won a pickup truck and that was all the incentive I needed. It didn't occur to me that it's hard to pay rent with a pick-up truck. Although it's great to haul around the groceries you can't afford to buy.

During commercial breaks someone would come up to me and say, "Could you smile more? Or even just ONCE?" I'm not a smiler. Because of this I have none of those laugh lines around my eyes that make women look 105 years old and make men look distinguished.

Five minutes into the game I lost track of what I was doing and started playing to the audience. I was an entertainer, getting an audience to respond to me was what I did. So when I got this question: "If there was a choice between being a hooker or being a maid, what do you think the majority of women responded?"

I calmly replied, "Hooker." (big gasp from the audience) (seriously, huge gasp) (idiots)

I was asked why I guessed that and I said, almost disdainfully: "A maid is on her feet all day. A hooker is just on her back."

Yeah, I lost that one.

The guy I was playing against was really good. Apparently he actually knew how to play the game. It was a flashback to taking my 11th grade History final, when everyone is writing furiously and I'm bowing my head in prayer. And sobbing.

But unlike the history test, there's no one to copy off.

During a commercial break I turned to him and said, "You HAVE to stop winning. I have no money and I'm in a rental car and staying at my sister's and I have to move here because my agent told me to."

"Well, I'm in med school and have $200,000 worth of loans to pay off."

GAME SET MATCH.

We're With The Band

This is another picture of me and Alain. He had a band with the guy on the left, Jean-Pierre. I made Alain let me and Lindy sing with them because two people in a band is not a band, Alain.

At 15 and 13 Lindy and I owned the same dress. She always wanted to do everything I did and wear everything I wore. She probably begged my mother to buy her the same dress she bought me. And I probably yelled at her and said We're Not Twins You Stupid Moron. Because I have an incredibly sophisticated vocabulary from reading all the thick books in our library.

We entered a Battle of the Bands at the Casino de Royan, the next town over from Meschers on the west coast of France, and came in second. I was devastated but I remembered that it's not whether you win or lose but how you play the game. I bet I know who coined that phrase. LOSERS. Here we are singing at the Casino de Royan. As you can see, we just had the one performing outfit. We're even wearing matching shoes. Sure it's a horror to look at now but check out Alain's shoes. I hope to God we did not all plan to wear white shoes for the contest because if we did I have to turn in my subscription to Vogue and move to Bulgaria.

Three years later I was in college in Paris and dating a German named Karl, below. Karl devirginized me. I can still see the trauma etched on my face as it finally dawned on me why he kept pushing my head down to his crotch. I probably looked like someone in The Blair Witch Project. I saw Karl only once more, in New York, many, many, years later. His brother took me aside and said "Karl no longer speaks. He got tired of talking."

At dinner I kept up a steady stream of chatter and eventually he answered one of the forty hundred questions I asked him, Why did you give up talking? He said he had talked enough and was going to spend the rest of his life listening. Because I have excellent taste in men.

Why are some of my pictures oddly shaped? Because I used to put my photo albums together like this and yes I have a disease.

The next summer we were in Canet Plage in the south of France and my sister looked like this in a bikini: Horrifying.

She was 14 and had longer hair but I convinced her to let me cut it all off because A. I'm a terrible person and B. Not one boy found me remotely interesting while she wore that fucking bikini. But the only thing shorter hair did was call more attention to her body. She always had spectacular boobage until she lost them in a tragic aerobics accident many years later. No body fat? No boobs. Run and hide, A Cup, run and hide.

Meanwhile I can increase my cup size just by looking at pudding.

It's Everybody Can Bite Me Friday!

I'd like to talk about my favorite subject, me, but the news is just too dishy to pass up.

I love what Letterman did last night. I'd been hearing for years about his philandering and he once tried to pick up a flight attendant friend of mine on his way out to LA. I don't think he was with his girlfriend Merrill, the one who created Stupid Pet Tricks, but he might have already been with his future wife Regina. There is something very attractive about a man who fucks up and then, albeit under the threat of 2 million bucks, comes clean about it.

For one million dollars I'll confess to sleeping with MacKenzie Phillips.
Roman Polanski? I think a rape by any other name is still a crime. Those days were so wild and drug infused. Lindy and I had dinner with him once in Paris, at his house, and he gave me a Quaalude which I might have cheeked. I can't remember. He is one of the brightest men I've ever met, interesting, charming and polite but no I didn't have sex with him. How do I remember he was all those things if I had just taken a lude? Ahhhhh, you've obviously never had a lude. I did try to bring up the rape charge but he changed the subject thinking I worked for a newspaper. Remember them?
The Olympics, in Chicago? Yeah, let's stick the gangs on those poor tourists. And Oprah, take it down a notch will you? You can sell a book but WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?

Michael Jackson is still dead. And with help from Dr. Feel Good, yes, but homicide? No. You've heard of Suicide By Cop? I think this was Suicide By Doctor.

End of chat.

SuckedIn By LinkedIn

Even though I've accepted invites to LinkedIn, I never used it. Then I broke down recently and invited people.

This is a picture of me and Janette Barber from the 1996-97 Comedy Issue of Dancing Bear Productions. I pinched her contact info off another friend's LinkedIn profile. I hadn't seen or talked to her in 8 years. It's hard to read the copy below but she produced the Rosie O'Donnell show and is now working on Rosie's new variety show. She has lots of Emmys. For followers of Rosie's old show, Janette was the "Ja" in Jahero.

The profile next to my name says 'Hates Everybody.'

My favorite Janette story happened in Buffalo, NY when we were both working for Airborne Eddie. I was headlining but was panicked because Janette killed everywhere and I now had to follow her. So I called her and shared my fear and she pooh poohed the idea that I couldn't follow her. I then called my manager and shared with him and he dismissed me with "I only handle headliners so deal with it."

So of course I got laryngitis the hour after I arrived in Buffalo. During the week my voice got worse and worse until I sounded like Lauren Bacall smoking Cohibas. Then there was a fire in the hotel and they sounded the alarms and Janette didn't come out of her room, which was next door to mine. I pounded on the door until she casually opened it.
"What's up?"
"WE'RE ON FIRE!"
"Really?"

A fireman ran past us.

"Oh, okay, just let me get my book."
"JA - NETTE." She ran back into the room and then reappeared at the door.
"Wait, I need a sweater cuz it's cold out."
"Yeah, you can wear it to the MORGUE."

As we waited outside, I didn't see a book.
"Where's your book?"
She held up a spiral notebook, where she kept all her jokes. She was risking her life for a bunch of jokes. I, on therother hand, would've gladly watched mine feed the flames.

ANYWAY, by the penultimate day of the gig, I could barely talk and asked Janette to switch with me since her spot required 30 minutes while mine required 45. Janette said she'd gladly do it to prove to Eddie how good she was because up until then Airborne Eddie wouldn't book her as a headliner. But he agreed to the switch as I was begging him to give me a break.

Janette killed.

Eddie only booked her as a headliner after that.

End of chat.

Gidget And Pootie Tang

I came across the Gidget TV marathon on July 4th. I've always been a Sally Field fan and even on that show, she could act her way around a corner. I also love her show Brothers and Sisters and can't wait to find out WHO THE HELL RYAN IS.

On one of the shows I watched, she was supposed to be 15 and a half and getting a job. Her dad thought she went to work at the Tom Kat Club instead of at the malt shop where she was actually working. At one point the father turns to his other daughter and son-in-law and says he's "Going to give her a spanking."

That kind of dialogue no longer exists on TV unless it's on Bernie Mac and I think his show got canceled. Maybe on My Wife and Kids they joke about it too. What I'm trying to say is white people seem to have lost their minds while the black community is still holding it together, just like Gidget's dad. You never actually see any spanking on TV, except on old I Love Lucy reruns when Ricky would take Lucy over his knee and whack her behind. Did men spank their wives in the 1950's? And if they did, why weren't more women indicted for murder?

When I first began doing standup I was often the MC at a lot of downtown New York clubs and the 2 a.m. late show on Saturday night at the Improv on West 44th Street. White men in the audience were harder on me than black men. I used to do this bit where I'd ask for a wallet from any guy in front and go through it. Then I'd ask the guy, "Who is this girl in the picture with you?" And then I'd turn to the woman he was sitting with and say "Honey, it's not you." Then I'd ask, "How old is this condom?" I was a regular laugh riot.

White men would get SO mad at me. Of course the audience would scream because the more annoyed the man would get, the more I would point out that he was sweating and clearly lying and wasn't his date just a little young for him? But black men would laugh and often lead the audience in the group howl. Unlike the white men, they never glared at me and always offered up their wallets quickly, effortlessly. They GOT the joke. Although to be fair, you don't want to be at any show that I emcee and sit up front. Seriously. I'm trouble.

One night at Comedy U Grand in the village, Lance Crouther was on the bill with me. You know Lance as Pootie Tang if you're a Louis CK fan. He's also a funny comic and gifted writer from The Chris Rock Show, where he and Louis both won Emmys. I mentioned to Lance that white men didn't like me when I Emceed but black men did.

"Black people respect their mothers. White people respect their fathers. When you were a kid and saw your father walking towards you with that Look On His Face, I'll bet you straighted up. Well, we did the same thing with our mothers. You don't want a spanking from your mama. So when certain white men see you holding that microphone, they don't necessarily give you their respect but black men have no trouble with you being in charge."

Sidebar: As to the midget thumbnail pictures that can only be seen if you have three eyes? The Internets are cracking down and making it harder to save a bigger file. I tried. I did.

End of chat.

Gidget Pootie Tang Spanking I Love Lucy Lance Crouther Louis CK

RIP George Carlin

I only met Carlin once. We were both appearing at Bally's in Las Vegas. He was in the showroom; I was at the comedy club Catch A Rising Star.

I had just moved from New York City to Los Angeles in the hopes of pursuing a bigger career than New York offered. I had agents and an apartment by the Hollywood sign and I felt I was on the right track. One of my first gigs was in Las Vegas; how horrible could life be?

Driving into Vegas and seeing Carlin's name on the marquee at Bally's and knowing I was going to be in the same place, doing the same thing made it seem like I had moved for all the right reasons. I immediately wrote him a note saying I was at Catch and that I wanted to see his show. I dropped it off at reception and wondered whether George would get it. He did and called me in my room to ask how many tickets I needed because it was Valentine's Day. He assumed I needed two. I had just started dating The Impotentate (GET OUT. RUN AWAY. YOU'RE GOING TO WASTE 7 YEARS OF YOUR LIFE WITH HIM.) but left him back in L.A. It was my first time playing Vegas and if I went down in flames I didn't need him to see that. So I asked George for one ticket and a fire extinguisher.

The first note pinned on the yellow sheet below is the message the operators at Catch A Rising Star took from George telling me to be at his 9 pm show. You know I'm the Queen of the Qeepsakes so I have this hanging in my Hall of Fame. You can't see it in this photo but it hangs down on the left, under the Muscle and Fitness magazine with my sister on the cover.
Valentine's Day in Vegas couldn't be more annoying if it tried. People running around all in love and shit and strangers looking at you with sad eyes because OMG you're alone! But I didn't care because I couldn't wait to see the guy that all comics put in their top 5 of best standups ever. If you don't get that, chances are you might not understand what makes great comedy. It's hard to explain if you're not in the business of making people laugh. You're just going to have to trust me and every other comic on the planet on this one. Can 20,000 of us be wrong? Uhhh. No.

Standing on a stage for over an hour trying to hustle an audience into laughing is not for the weak. It's so difficult that sometimes I look back on my younger self and wonder what convinced me that I could tackle such a job. How did I believe I had the wherewithal to make an audience love me? Or make them laugh or require them to think? Few of us will ever attain the rank of making an audience think. That requires enormous skill and I'd be the first to admit that I can't do it. I'm not that gifted. But Carlin had it in spades. Imagine trying to talk about religion, as George did in his bit on the Ten Commandments, and yet point out how ridiculous those Ten Commandments were. Who makes fun of that and wins? George. Because he was a master of comedy. My friend and fellow comic Matt Davis sent me an email that really summed up George's genius. He was a maestro with his words. He would start a premise or a story and he would zig and zag and weave and go off onto several different tangents (all of which were relevant and hilarious), and he would always come back and join it all together 10 or 20 minutes later and tie the end piece with a bow. It was amazing. It made me want to write more jokes and quit comedy forever at the same time.

That's really the hallmark of great anything. That it makes you want to do it better and yet quit because you don't think you'll ever be as good at it as the ones you admire the most. Comics can make a room full of strangers laugh. We don't know if it will work every time, and sometimes it doesn't, but we do know that most people can't do it and for some reason, that's why we keep doing it. And most of us hope we're one hundredth as good as Carlin. And know we're not.

The next night there was a message from George. "Want to know if you saw the show." I've had boyfriends who have dropped me off in front of my building and haven't waited to see if I made it inside alive. I have relatives who assume I'm dead because they never call. George was a real class act. And p.s., how many comics have you seen remain successful through their 60's and on until their 70's? Newhart. Cosby. Rivers. Carson. Believe me, we should all be so lucky.

Those of you who read me on a regular basis know I struggle with what I did with my life but when Carlin died I realized I'm grateful that I chose to be a comic, no matter how difficult the road. I remember once when my career was in the toilet and I didn't know what was going to happen to me and I called my Dad. I told him I had wasted my time flying around the world doing comedy and what did it bring me? And my Dad said "You made a lot of people laugh. Not many people can say that about their lives." And over the years I realized how right he was. Making people laugh is a lucky gift to have. It also reminds me of what The Laugh Factory here in L.A. puts up on their marquee when a comic dies. RIP George Carlin. Make God laugh. So if I can do that one day when I'm long gone and forgotten down here, make God laugh? Well, there will be no regrets. Except for this one: GET THIS CAST OFF MY FUCKING FOOT.

Another great comedian died the same day as Carlin but at 93, her heyday had come and gone. Dody Goodman was in both the Grease movies and played the mother in the hilarious sitcom Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman. But more importantly, she was a Johnny Carson and Jack Paar fave. And if those two guys didn't know great comedy, no one did. Dody also did Broadway in her later years. I came across this quote from the producer of one of her shows about her prowess on the New York stage:

"Dody had the most impeccable comic timing," Goggin said. "When we had her in the show Nunsense, she was the only person on Earth who could walk on stage and say, 'Are you ready to start?' and bring the house down."

It's all about timing in comedy. If you think you're funny, try saying that line when you walk into a room. Good luck with the crickets.

R.I.P. George. And Dody. We'll miss you.

George Carlin Dody Goodman Grease Jack Paar

More Shout Outs To Our Soldiers

I once had a 7 year relationship with a man who was impotent for the first 4. He refused to talk about it so we broke up and got back together about 900 times. After one of those separations we reunited and he was not impotent for the last 3 years. This is why I refer to him in my blog as The Impotentate. My friend Mike used to call him Dick Al Dente. So even after we broke up and remained in touch, he refused to talk about why he was impotent during those 4 years. When we dated he was broke; now he's a multimillionaire. Natch.

Which brings me to the picture below. This is the Army K-9 unit of Osan, South Korea. They are holding a pair of The Impotentate's briefs. Even though he was never a jealous guy, he hated it when I went overseas to entertain the boys. So one day before I left for Asia, he gave me a pair of his briefs with this written on them: "Don't forget me. I love you. Please don't be a whore." Actually I have no idea what it really said but I remember he wrote it in green magic marker and put a heart in red with an arrow through it. During the entire 7 years I wasted with this individual that is the nicest thing he ever did for me. I know; I'm a retard. But not a whore.
Below are some very serious German Shepherds. Civilians weren't even allowed to stand next to the gate. We watched a presentation they made for us, where the dogs rushed a guy and ripped his protected arm to shreds. Sometimes I fantasize that it was The Impotentate's arm. A MULTI-millionaire, in case you read that first paragraph too quickly.

Below are some of my most treasured possessions. Every Army unit is issued a coin. You must carry the coin on you AT ALL TIMES. If you don't and someone yells out Coin Check then you have to hold up your coin. If you don't have it on you, then you have to buy everyone drinks. I was persuaded to yell out Coin Check before one of the shows and the moment I said it I realized they all knew someone didn't have a coin. And he didn't. To this day I feel bad that I fell for that. It's an honor if a soldier gives you a coin and you can't ask for it, you need to be singled out for them.
The first coin in the top left hand corner is from the 1st Battalion 506th Infantry. In the middle it says Stands Alone and at the bottom North of the River. On the back it says Bushmasters. Hmmmmmm. I got this one at the post at the DMZ, which separates North and South Korea. I remember the officer took us aside and made a little presentation of the coins.

The coin underneath it has the map of North and South Korea and is from the same outfit. They both say Currahee on them.

The one with the black shield says No Slack and Warrior Main. It's from C Company, 702D, MSB. How butch does Warrior Main sound? And how many of you wives out there are married to No Slack? That's what I thought.

One of our trips took us to Johnston Atoll in the Pacific Ocean, 717 nautical miles west-southwest of Honolulu, Hawaii. Nautical Mile is Spanish for Far Away.

It's 2 miles long by 3/4 miles at its widest point. It's the home of the operational chemical weapon demilitarization point. In English? This is where they stash the leftover Mustard Gas and Agent Orange from previous wars. You are issued a gas mask upon arrival and a kit full of antidote. You are shown a movie where they demonstrate how to plunge the hypodermic into your thigh in case the alarm goes off. If you cross a certain point of the island you must have your gas mask on you or you have to turn back. The indoctrination takes over an hour. They want to be clear that you understand what's going on. Below is a picture of me in my gas mask with my medical clearance certificate. And the first person who says I look better this way can bite me.
We woke up every morning to the loudest motherfucking siren in the Universe. I spent most of the shows making fun of the guy who ran that siren. Then I started talking about those hypodermics and everyone began laughing. I asked one specialist from the south why it was so funny and he replied, "Ma'am, by the time the Mustard Gas hits the air? You'd have no time to get that hypodermic out of its bag 'cause you'd be dead." Well then.

The people at Johnston get a really bad case of cabin fever since there's nowhere to go and they have to serve a tour there, sometimes 2 years, which they are financially well compensated for due to the extreme situation. They drink a lot. Once some of them get so drunk they jumped into the waters and were sliced to shreds by the coral reefs. One died.

As you can probably tell from this blog, I documented my career in a very meticulous manner. Pictures, mementos, scrapbooks, postcards. Because I figured someone as single-mindedly ambitious as me would forget to marry and have children and I wanted to account for all that time. And I was right. I forgot to marry and have children. A MULTI-MILLIONAIRE, yo.

End of chat.

Bushmasters Currahee 1st Battalion 506th Infantry C Company, 702D, MSB Warrior Main Stands alone

Johnston Atoll Osan Korea South Korea MWR K-9 Units War In Iraq Military Coins

A Shout Out To Our Guys In Pakistan

I was looking at the global map I keep on the bottom half of my sidebar and noticed I've got some repeat customers from Pakistan. It looks like some of the readers are coming from Islamabad so if there are soldiers who are reading this, we're all praying for your safe return.

This post is for you.

I entertained the troops during the Bosnian War and made other trips to South Korea, Johnston Atoll and Japan for MWR. The comics were given G-17 status and at the time that pissed off my Army Dad, ret. and now deceased, buried in Arlington. He had only gotten to G-14. I said, "I told you I'd amount to something ONE day." And he replied, "Yeah, as long as you're in a war zone you're fine."

I spent time in red-tagged bunkers in Macedonia and did meet and greets out of a Blackhawk flying with almost zero visibility in some no-fly zones, for which I did NOT receive hazard pay. (Surely one of you guys can put in a word for me about that, no?) I yelled at that pilot because he took us over a mountain and dropped the chopper straight down, thereby scaring the FUCK out of me. He promised not to do it again and told me not to feel bad since when he had the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders on board they all puked when he did that to them.

At the show that night I ripped that flyboy a new asshole and got a standing O. Hooah!

The Blackhawk and the pilot.

The note that was left on my door after that show. I went to their commanding officer to try and track down the guy who wrote this and was told, "We're all just soldiers here." And yes, their humility made me cry. Shut up. At least I didn't puke.

End of chat.

U.S. Soldiers in Pakistan War In Iraq

My Bad Minister Audition

My second Los Angeles agent decided I not only could play a minister but a lesbian minister to boot. Since he was gay, what was I going to say, "A lot you know about gay people?"

Before you start furiously typing in the comments section that nobody 'looks' gay let me respond with this. You've never been to Hollywood. I truly thought my agent would look at me after a year with him and say, "She cannot pull off a lesbian minister."

I'm not sure people who aren't in the business know this but when you go out for a role you dress for the part as best you can. If you go up for a Doctor or a gym teacher, you can either wear a lab coat or a whistle and baseball hat. Does everyone do this? No, but if you're going up for a hooker, you'd better take those fishnets, stilettos and minis out and chew some serious gum if you want a better chance. Now if you're just going up for a cashier or a friend or a dog walker, it's a lot harder to figure out what to wear. I have a friend who regularly has to appear in bikinis in front of a panel of casting directors because those are the roles she gets called in for, Beach Bunny With Cocktail or Murderess Girl By Pool.

So back to the lesbian minister. I didn't have any cassocks, albs or chasubles sitting around so I just wore pants and a top. I flirted briefly with the idea of a Lipstick Lesbian Ensemble but decided I wasn't sure how Lipstick Lesbians dress. Did they have a dress code? I was taking the audition way too seriously. It might help to point out that I was stone cold broke at that juncture in my career and I needed jobs. And we all know that when you need something that much, you reek of neediness and even small children will run away from you in the mall. Thank God.

I looked in the mirror before I left and decided to slick back my hair with gel. I have long hair so it became a long, disorganized mullet. I didn't wear any makeup. That was my lesbian minister. A mullet with no makeup and slacks from The Limited.

When I went in to read I could tell from the casting director's face that I was all wrong for the part. I should have just said, "I know I'm not right for this; my agent's a moron." But I didn't because I needed the job. I read the few bland lines, "Do you take this woman" and "Do you take this man" and that was it. The casting director barely looked at me when I finished. I was so uncomfortable I said, "I really like your sweater."

When the show aired on TV I wasn't totally surprised to see who they cast. The woman weighed about 240 lbs and had short hair and it was slicked back with gel. AHA! At least I got one thing right.

My apologies to lesbian ministers everywhere.

End of chat.