A Nice Annoying Weekend Like Every Other

Remember when I lost my Chanel sunglasses? Well, wherever they are, they took my Blog Roll with them. I can't even find the widget in the layout. Before you accuse me of being careless and retarded you should know that I am.

Monday I have a doctor's appointment with my Dermatologist to check this weird thing. At the top of my ear, it hurts. Who else gets dumb shit like that on parts of the body you never touch? So I was all calm about it until I lost my Blog Roll. That triggered an OMG I'VE GOT 5 SECONDS TO LIVE and that was BEFORE I watched Farrah's Story last night.

The first and only time I saw her was one night at the Improv on Melrose. I didn't even know she was there but I saw a group of men crowded around someone. That's not too unusual because it's a giant boy's club. But I went to look so I could bad mouth them later to all the funny chick comics like Tommy James and they were around Farrah, who was sitting by herself. She quietly signed autographs and let her picture be taken over and over but there was something off about the situation. Like the time I was with Lucille Ball in that elevator and couldn't talk after I saw what she did.

I wrote about it in November of 2006 and they said she was diagnosed in September of that year unless I'm going deaf from the weird hurty ear top.

During the show she kept repeating that she just wanted her life back and I've been saying that about my own life since last summer. Mine is getting there and I hope Farrah gets that chance.

Love the one you're with. Or bash them over the head and run like hell. Your choice.

End of chat.

Farrah Farrah's Story Farrah Fawcett Charlie's Angels

The Obamas At The White House

Where is the other Obama girl? I'm thinking the new dog Bo ate her. "Never trust a dog wearing a lei."~ The Dog Whisperer, Cesar Milan.

So that's just some of the stuff that's been hiding in the storage unit over the last 10 years. I do decorate differently than most people. I've never wanted my place to look like a hotel room. There's nothing worse than a place that says, WELCOME TO SOMETHING YOU'VE SEEN EVERYWHERE.

Sidebar: The lava lamp is being sold. It was a gift from an ex. An ex-psycho.

The cross over the self portrait of my mother is made entirely of bottle caps with Jesus in the middle. It makes me laugh and I'm sorry about that BUT IT DOES. The mirror was hand made by my sister's ex-boyfriend Brent (who we still love and adore). The yellow vase on the French Provincial desk is from Shanghai.
The wall art next to the poster is bullet casings by Maddy LeMel. It represents every hit I took in show business. That's an original 1958 poster of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. The 1940 era movie seats are from The Pasadena Flea Market.

The French poster of Some Like it Hot I got off Craig's List. The 1950's TV, which I use as an end table, I bought in Florida for $75. They go for $500 out here. Vintage TVs are impossible to find in LA because everyone collects. I had been on waiting lists in various shops all over LA trying to get one but never scored.

I sent the TV back to LA and it cost me $500. Irony, party of one.

The 1930's slot machine belonged to my dad. The painting above it was sent to me by a reader. The bookcase holds my vintage microphone collection and every book on standup ever written.

Thanks for all the new readers but DUDES, where are the VOTES? (I got two) And don't forget the cookie detectors. If you're voting from different dummy accounts on one computer, you're pretty much fucked.

End of chat.

Sometimes I Leave My Head In The Car And Go To Neiman Marcus

3 words:
Early onset Alzheimers.

Do I Even Need To Explain This One?

Thanks Freddie Mac and Fannie Mae. THANKS BAILOUT MONEY. Thanks U.S government. Great job!! And I especially want to thank The Impotentate, one of my exes who profited GREATLY as a mortgage broker and became a multimillionaire.
AFTER I DUMPED HIM BECAUSE FOR 7 YEARS I GOT TIRED OF HIM NEVER EVEN PAYING FOR A GLASS OF TAP WATER.

I'm a leeeeeetle off topic (ya think?) BUT did I mention I spent 4 years dealing with his impotency and never complained or belittled him? Did I mention that? HUH? DID I? DID I? Go catch up on us by clicking on the label below. ESPECIALLY IF YOU WANT TO FEEL SUPERIOR TO ME AND FRANKLY, WHO DOESN'T WANT THAT?

Did I mention he's a multimillionaire? Did I mention I'm not?

God I am SUCH an asshole.

It's Possible I'm Legally Blind

Anyone who knows me well knows I hate traditional, cataloguey shit. I'm an original. It's how I made my living as a standup comic and how I decorate.

I came across this mailbox and even though I wanted an official U.S.P.S. silver one, this was the only one I found. I wanted to turn it into a trashcan for the bathroom. When it was full, I would put the flag up because this meant it was time to empty it. I thought I was a genius until I realized I lived alone and I'm not a little bit country.

Sometimes I Go Shopping Blindfolded

I have a storage unit attached to my apartment. Sometimes when I walk by I hear "Please get us out of here."

They have a roof over their heads and they're not on fire. Rude.

So I thought I'd show you some of the things I'm selling at our neighborhood yard sale on May 23. First up, what the fuck IS this? Do I have a giant hungry cat that I don't know about? Did I buy it at The Mall of America Plastic Zoo of Budapest? WHY WOULD I HAVE BOUGHT THIS? And don't ask "Was this before you were medicated?"

After this 5 day series of hideous pictures (unless you like them and then I'll be all codependent and like them too) I'd better get some Blogger's Choice Awards votes out of this. And no, I'm not in the Best Worst Taste category.

Unbelievably.

It's Everybody Can Bite Me Friday!

I can't afford my shrink. She's $350. an hour. Okay, Get up off the floor and clean up the tomato juice you spilled on your brand new white blouse and keep reading. She costs about 34 dresses at Wal Mart. But there's an alternative, I can go for FIFTEEN minutes for little checkups and they cost $110. or 7 dresses at Marshall's. Or 5 Starbucks. Or a vial of cyanide.

Yesterday I ended it. I'm fine. Except for the numb hands and spinal stenosis and no health insurance. I will go to my mother's in Paris and have it done there FOR FREE. Why the United States can't take care of their citizens who have health problems and were stupid enough to go into show business just breaks my heart since I was born with bone problems. AND NOT THE RIGHT KIND OF BONE PROBLEMS.

Mom arrives here on the 20th of May. By the time she leaves, SIX WEEKS LATER, I will have re-thought that freebie in France.

End of chat.

Tattoos Are For Losers

I was standing in line at the supermarket and there was a man standing VERY close to me. I moved up a few inches and then he followed me. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him staring at my left upper arm. I moved, he moved. I've had 2 stalkers in this neighborhood, one was 16 and one was in this forties and used to stand in line backwards so he could stare at me. It's possible I was naked.

But this new stalker was clearing staring and deciding whether to slap the snake, the tarantula or the swine flu off my arm.

"Excuse me sir, is there something on my arm?"
"Uhhh, yeah."
"Is it a bug?"
"No, it's a weird tattoo."
"I don't have any tattoos. I'm from a good family."
"Well, you got one now."
"Then a woman took out a mirror to SHOW me the tattoo I don't have."
"Ohhhhh, that's a burn." He said.
"A burn in the shape of a belt buckle?" The woman said.
"Ridiculous huh?"
"Don't belts go around the waist?" I asked.
"Usually."
"So you put a belt around your arm and got a TATTOO?" The woman was clearly afraid of me."
"That's a first degree burn." Stalkerwannabedoctor said.
"How do you know that?"
"How long have you had it?"
"I don't know, more than a week."
"Did you put anything on it?"
"You mean like butter?
"Welcome to your first tattoo."

When I finally saw it at my house, I realized I got it from my seat belt. I guess I need classes on how to put a seat belt on in 200 degree heat.

Surprise.

I went to El Shrinko de Mayo yesterday and as I was going in one door, an overweight black guy in the the music business was coming out of the door next to my shrinks.

"How you doin'?" he smiled.
"I'm doin' great, how about you?"
"I'm doing great too."
"I'm lying." I responded.
"Yeah, me too," he laughed.

End of chat.

Someone Else Gets To Carry The Burden That Is Me

I don't even know what that title means. But Ann from Ann's Rants, if indeed that IS her real name, I'm so confused by everyone's fake names, fake family names, fake office names and fake animal names that I've started to call myself Shirley.

When you read over 100 blogs and you have to remember who's who and who did what to whom and who is cheating and who lost weight and who's champion of their bowling league, I QUIT. I only use one fake name in my blog and I haven't even used it in over a year and a half. He might be dead but that's another story entirely. (substitute the word 'might' for 'wish' and you're ALL caught up)

Ann=possible fake name=interviewed me. So go here if you're not entirely clear on my sanity. I'll be at the shrink's if there are any questions.

Love, Shirley

Like A Banana, A Hard Man Is Good To Find

We Are Bad And We Love It

I DO NOT MESS AROUND. If you're getting on my last available nerve, I will do something about it unless the cops are in my neighborhood. And if they're cute cops, I got that covered.

I'm a Scorpio. If you know your horoscope, you know many things about us. We're the sex sign of the Zodiac and if you happen to cross us, run. I give you two times to fuck me over and by the third, you're history. Scorpios are the most loyal sign of the Zodiac. We will do anything for you and you will never find a more consistent friend than a Scorpio, unless you're a total douchebag and I don't have time to list all those people right now because I have to do my Xmas shopping.

Back in New York City in the late 80's, the top of our 65 unit apartment building was finished with redwood decking, potted plants, benches and other outdoor accoutrements. Even though the building was only 6 stories, the roof had a lovely view of the East River. The mayor's residence, Gracie Mansion, sat off to the right almost on top of the boardwalk that ran from the East 90's straight down to the East 60's. Giant oil tankers drifted up and down the East River, tugboats nudging them gently so they wouldn't careen into the oncoming water lanes. So needless to say, this rooftop garden quickly became our building hangout. We would take our books and magazines and slip into bathing suits and soak up the sun and cruise the hot gay guys since the heteros weren't that cute in our building. You know, like in real life.

Then one of the tenants, who happened to work at a law office but WAS NOT A LAWYER, decided that the rooftop garden was just begging for drug addicts and thieves to climb up one of the fire escapes, cross over the 2 feet of barbed wire, break down the door that locked from the inside, and murder and pillage at will. She called the management company and within weeks the roof was closed.

We all bitched for weeks so finally I came up with a plan. I enlisted my friend Betty and we decided to scare the shit out of the old lady. She wasn't really old, maybe 36 or something but we called her that because she was acting like an old lady. I donned a pair of rubber gloves, and on a legal pad of paper I had purchased WITH GLOVES ON, took a pen and wrote her a threat with my left hand, because I am right-handed. Seriously, I could work for the C.I.A. The note said she was to cease and desist or she would cease to exist. Then I signed it Your Neighbors. Then, again with gloves, we folded the note, put it in a newly purchased envelope, bought with the same gloves, and in the middle of the night, slipped it under her door. I don't remember if we licked the envelope. I don't remember when DNA testing started either, so let's hope I just folded in the flap and left it at that. I hope my next post isn't from prison.

Days went by and after a week, the roof reopened. Then another week went by and we all had a flyer slipped under our doors from the management company. It said that NYPD was checking into any threats to anyBODY and that this was something they were taking very seriously. Of course Betty and I went around the building saying, "Oh my GOD, what are they talking about, who could have DONE this?"

When I first moved to LA, there was some derelict who lived in our building who had a car that was about 147 years old. Every morning at 6 a.m. he would turn the key in the ignition and rev the engine of that piece of crap for what seemed like hours, but was probably only 5 minutes. Being the Queen of Insomnia, it only took the engine turning over one time to blast me awake. After two weeks of this, I decided it was time to once again become the vigilante I was clearly meant to be. I wrote him a note that said, "Stop gunning your engine at the crack of dawn or we'll make sure your car will never start again." Then I signed it Your Neighbors. The next morning I heard him come out of the back door and instead of going straight for his car door, knew he had stopped to pick up the envelope under the windshield wiper and read it. He then got into his car, turned the engine over, sputtered out the back and chugged down the street. When he got to the stoplight at the end of our street, THEN he gunned the engine, which I'm sure thrilled all the apartment dwellers down on that end. He moved out less than 6 months later.

Don't EVER fuck with a Scorpio. E V E R. We are the Don Corleones of the Zodiac. We have learned that when a friend fucks with us once, they will fuck with us forever. Ask all my Scorpio friends. Right Bee?

Your neighbors.

It's Everyone Can Bite Me Friday!

Okay, your answers were phenomenal. Some were so funny and some were so clever and most of you were right. It's an outhouse. I didn't know what it was because I'm the Urban Queen. I thought it was an armoire that I could put venetian glass on.It's locked up because they saw me coming. Try and keep this in mind, being funnier than me is STRICTLY FROWNED UPON AND WILL LAND YOU A GIG AT A NUDIST CAMP.

Is Google Reader displaying differently or did I just hit the wrong button and now everything is in bullet form? I HATE IT.

I think I've mentioned I bleach my own hair. 3 times a year I use a different color of blond and the end product is natural. Everyone always asks me who does my hair and I tell them my secret. But one of my arms is not cooperating and something is ripped, torn or flesh eating around my left biceps, which I believe is the first sign of Swine Flu. So I was lying in bed 2 nights ago and came up with this great idea. I was going to pour the bleach on a fairly wide-toothed comb and just comb my hair, leaving it for the full 30 minutes.

By the next day it occurred to me I might end up with pin striped hair. But I did it anyway and I'm going to keep doing it this way because it's EASY. I'm an ash blonde irl so the differences are minimal. I'M A GENIUS and am going to open The Pin Striped Hair Salon.

Residents of Los Angeles are among the dumbest people I've ever met. The easier the job, the more stupid they become. Especially when it comes to money.

Once I came home from a tour of Canada and took my Canadian dollars to the bank.

"How much are these worth today?"
"The same as an American Dollar."
"No they're not."
"Yes they are."
"No. They're NOT."
"Pssssssst."

It was the teller next to him. He looked over at her and she shook her head no in the most imperceptible way.

Another day another teller got mad at me because I made a deposit and only wanted $10.00 back.
"Ten dollars?"
"Yes."
"Why don't you take twenty; most people take twenty."
"I only need ten."

She rolled her eyes at me like I was the dumbest fork in a box of hair and handed me a twenty. I didn't say anything but walked outside and looked at my receipt and although she had given me twenty, the receipt said she gave me ten. To reward her for her condescension, I kept the twenty.

I never used to do this. I always pointed out their error but no one ever said "Gee, I'm as dumb as a fork in a box of hair." So after a while I thought I should go into The Wrong Change Business. Yesterday I went to the corner store and got two items. One was 9.98 and the other was 1.25. She rang it up as 5.23. I even asked her if that's all I owed. She said yes so I gave her a ten and she gave me 4 dollars in change. This economy is probably so fucked up because bank lenders and car dealers can't do math. I'm assuming the current government, when bailing out AIG and GM, promised them 75 billion but gave them 156 billion.

Don't buy Michael J. Fox's new book Always Looking Up unless you really want to read 50 pages of how the stem cell research and bill went throuzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. He used the word 'inchoate' 3 times in the book.

Which means I had to look it up 3 times. And now I have to go pay my rent. AGAIN.

End of chat.