And Then

The model was the blonde. I can't believe how up on models you all were. I kept calling them The Trees and going, "Trees, over to the left." Or "Trees, give me your best model smiles." They are 16 years old. Then I said, "Trees, give me your money." Can Crystal Meth be far behind?

Teri Hatcher was there but I didn't see her. I was told she is magnificently tall and of course, fat free. Bitch.

I was wearing The Shroud Of Turin and the sister pictures go up tomorrow.

The next photos were taken poorly and I only have my fingers to blame for that. Seriously, if you can name all the items on this plate we are NEVER going out to eat together. And they may want to look into lemon wedges next time, and Tabasco, or Worcestershire or fucking pepper or killing the cooks. Hey, I just thought of something. SEA SALT!

Believe it or not, the pile of little brown things was delicious as was the chocolate dessert. We left early and ate again at Lindy's.

The infamous Ben Stein, one of the presenters, sat next to us and I still fucked up the picture.And of course, the Stars of the evening, Ellen and Portia. They looked so happy together that all I could think about is why the U.S. has such a problem with other people's sex lives. Not to mention other people's joy.
Ellen was on TelePrompter for their acceptance speeches but in the next picture she waved the Tele guy to stop because she told him she was going off script. At one point she was imploring people to take a chance on all these animals and said, "Look at me. I came out and got no grief..." and the crowd roared their acceptance. It really was a sweet moment and now I think I'm gay.

As the old joke goes, "Let gays get married; why should only straight people be miserable?"

I had turkey for lunch yesterday and prime rib for dinner. If you believe The Blood Type Diet I'm O Neg and so is everyone in my family. All O types are carnivores and crave meat. Thank GOD.

More to come.

Next. Some Fashion And A Weird Quiz

We arrive at the Beverly Hills Hilton fresh from my sister's elegant white BMW and as she rushes ahead of me I manage to fall off my right shoe, stumble backward, tumble off the curb, lose the shoe ENTIRELY, start yelling for help, try to turn my shoe over with my toe - fail -and watch as the tourists lined up to see the stars START TAKING PICTURES OF ME. Finally Lindy retrieved me from the gutter and I gimped over to the group of picture takers and hissed, that better NOT end up on You Tube.

We signed in and were directed to the V.I.P. section where there was an open bar and once inside we were close to the stage. And YES my ex was there but I didn't see him. His name was all over the program as he was doing some rather big things for the event.

Sidebar: I've already posted pics of him on this blog, during the Christmas era 2 years ago? When we lived in New York and dressed my dog as Santa Claus. Have I EVER had a life? The ubiquitous one-armed sleeve in neon, and I do mean NEON, which hardly shows in this photo of artist Kait Matthews. Of course I nearly knocked her over so I had to explain why I was a Wonk Walker. She proffered her card and said, "E-mail me, my fiance is a doctor with a big heart. I want you to talk to him for FREE. " I would marry her if I didn't already have VodkaMom as my albatross wife and you know, if Kait wasn't all engaged to a man and shit.

It might be hard to tell but these girls, best friends, are both over 6 feet and one of them is a top model here in L.A. Which one? The Blonde or The Brunette?

Lindy won the table flower setting and gave it to this woman, Auntie V, part of our late friend Janet's family.

Yeah, now you're thinking my sister is all nice and shit and have already forgotten she trampled me and then pushed me into the gutter.

More to come.

First. Some Of The Celebrities

It was a long day into night but I thought I'd throw up some photos I took to gear up for the rest.

Below is Jorja Fox from CSI.

James Cromwell, who has been Hollywood's best character actor for decades.

Emily Deschanel from Bones.

And for the love of God it was a vegan meal!!!

End of chat.

NOW what?

Lindy and I have to go to the Genesis Awards tonight. One of our friends who died of ovarian cancer left a 10 person table for ten years. My sister has gotten out of it in years past because she was busy. So this year we have to go. (she has to, why drag me into it?) It's hosted by Leeza Gibbons (or has been in the past) and the gruesome, torturous images are so grotesque that Lindy and our friend Janet could never look at the screens while the images played. The rest of the audience watched while Lindy and Janet stared at their tableware. YES THERE'S A DINNER and gee I hope it's served before the slide show.

Lindy hurt her back and can't sit and we all know what a marathon runner I am so I tried to get Lindy to cancel and she said "Janet's mother is showing up in a wheelchair so how can I not go?"

Great, someone worse off than me and probably in a better mood.

So as we discussed whether we should even shower for this event I mentioned my brand new patch of grey hair that I got from this last surgery. I never had patches and now I have a patch. I can't really dye it myself since one of my arms refuses to cooperate with my stenographer's neck and Jill is in Cabo St. Lucas with Mike The I Heart Cock guy so Lindy says, just wear a hat.

Done.

Now she starts mentioning some of our friends who will be there and I realize I wouldn't mind seeing them until I remember an awful comedian who is really the biggest bitch I (and many other comics) have ever known AND the last man I almost married will probably both be there as they're in PETA land with all the other quacks. The Queen Bitch once told me in an email that she was trying to get pate de foie gras banned in Chicago. That will be her legacy. Of course Mayor Daly thought it might be better to concentrate on CRIME AND DRUGS. The ex-bf is just straight up loony. I don't allow PETA ads on my blog. Fanaticism drives me crazy. Can't we all just get along?

What will they serve for dinner? God let it not be vegetarian or worse, vegan, but it might be because Janet was a vegetarian. If I have to go to the Hilton and eat riceberries over toast points or lettuce on a branch, I will not be a happy camper. Like I've ever camped.

End of chat.

It's Everybody Can Bite Me Friday!

I randomly was blog hopping the followers I have and came across one who was trying to stop smoking.

For some reason, the way I stopped smoking popped into my head and thought I'd lay it out here because, what a surprise, IT WAS NOT NORMAL.

I was smoking a pack a day and slowing creeping up to a pack and a half. I would try and quit but I worked in a bar/restaurant and we'd all hang out afterwards and snort coke till about 5 a.m. Then we had to ask if anyone was holding quaaludes so we could go to sleep. There is nothing creepier than going to bed when the birds are waking up. I would always feel like I had wasted time, which of course, I had.

After 2 years of trying to quit only to pick it up again, I couldn't stand it anymore. So I asked God for help.

Please make something happen to me that will make me stop smoking. I don't know what, but just something physical to scare me. BUT DON'T KILL ME.

About a week later I was talking to a friend in North Carolina and of course, smoking. Suddenly I got a huge stabbing pain in my chest and couldn't breathe or talk. I was gasping and heard David through the phone.

D: Are you smoking?
ME: gasp
D: Listen carefully, put the cigarette out and lay down on the floor and count to 30.
ME: gasp
D: It it doesn't go away after 30 and you don't get back on the phone and talk normally, I'm calling 911 because you're having a heart attack.
ME: GASP!!!!!

1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8, 9, 10, 11...

ME: David, I'm okay. How did you know I was smoking?
D: Cause I've had that.
ME: Had what?
D: Lung congestion.
ME: But you still smoke.
D: Yeah, I've had it 4 times and I'm clean for a while then I start again.
ME: Well you couldn't have had THIS because it feels like a knife in the heart.
D: I know. 4 times.

I was still scared shitless but I had asked for it. I thanked God and two nights later I went to the Improv and bummed a cigarette off someone. Half way through the Marlboro I thought, "God is going to kill you and it's probably going to hurt."

I never smoked again and I just want to say this to God: ALL RIGHT ALREADY. YOU CAN STOP NOW. And could you bring back Quaaludes?

End of cigarettes.

Who Else Could Get Away With This?

I have this huge postcard collection. When I hauled it out here to LA, I found a rack for them all. My place is eclectic to say the least. There's nothing traditional about me except I wear clothes when I leave the house. At least I hope I do.

One of my favorite cards is of President Nixon and Elvis Presley. This card was printed in 1988 but this event happened on December 21, 1970. Elvis Presley arrived at The White House carrying a commemorative World War II Colt 45. Being a badge collector, he wanted to trade the gun to President Nixon for a Narcotics Bureau Badge. Elvis received the badge and the gun is now on display at the Richard Nixon Library at Yorba Linda, California.

The irony that Elvis died of a drug overdose was not lost on one person, except maybe Nixon.

I still love Elvis, not one singer has come close to having that lasting fame and talent after almost 40 years except the Beatles. Out of today's crop of entertainerers, who do you think **Oprahbama's Presidency would allow that kind of trade?

**I TOTALLY stole that name from her.

End of chat.

Eve Behar

If you're in the Boston area this time of year or hey, maybe you live there? Then go check out Eve's work. Tell her I sent you. She's talented and her work is one of a kind and really glorious. I own two pieces, including the one that was replaced for the stolen one by he who shall remain gay and nameless and in the movie Sex and the City. Did I mention he was short?

Photo by Caryn Leigh


CRAFT BOSTON
A show of contemporary art, craft & design presented by The Society of Arts and Crafts at:

Seaport World Trade Center
200 Seaport Blvd., Boston, MA

March 27 to 29, 2009:
Friday 10 am to 7 pm
Saturday 10 am to 6 pm
Sunday 11 am to 5 pm

craftboston

evebeharceramics

Mailbag # 9

For new readers, I randomly post unedited lines from emails I get. They're all anonymous but you can out yourself if you want. I have strange, funny and demented friends. See the first 8 Mailbags under the label at the bottom of this post if you don't believe me.


-OH MY GOD!!!! I am so happy to hear from you that I would pee in my pants, were it not for the fact that I died of boredom 6 months ago!

-Here's an invite for you to be my friend on the site icanhascheezburger.com. This is where I keep my favorite funny pictures and other fun stuff. It'd be great if you could check it out and rate it or leave a comment.

-I sent you a ginuwine (sic) email and ginuwine (sic) interest in your site and its content. It's mind blowing that you would talk to someone who's a fan of your site the way you talked to me.

-My night was bordering on ruined.

-He quit blogging but nobody knows why.

-I had a psychic experience this morning. I had a dream last night that I made out with Harry Connick Jr., someone I would never think of, and when I turned on the TV he was on The Today Show!!!

-I do have a cousin that used to work for a record company and she "discovered" Barry Manilow!

-there used to be a hideous expression my mother and aunt would throw around with abandon at a point in my life when all I cared about was sex and drugs and how absolutely fabulous I thought I was...similar to the one you sent " getting older is not for sissys".....

-The best Thanksgiving I think I ever had was when I fed the homeless at the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium

-At that point I realized that the friendly stranger was Beth, Mrs. Dog-the-Bounty-Hunter. And then to confirm my identification of her, her cell phone rang, she answered it and said, "Oh hi Dwayne."

-Y tu mama tambien.

-I was in a rental car place the other day. A guy in a military haircut was wearing a t-shirt that said, “I may not be Mr. Right but I’ll fuck you until he gets here.”

-XXXXX has requested a recommendation as Atheist Grief Counselor at Godless Grief.

-Am I happy here? I'm a miserable fuck anywhere I go.

-Okay Suzy sorry to bother you. I won't email you bout group issues ever again.

I'm Donating My Eyes (and breasts) To Science

I drove to Dr. K's yesterday and ONCE AGAIN parked in the wrong lot. Yes, it's finally occurred to me there's nothing wrong with me at all, I just need new glasses. The lot was empty but I needed to go into the one next door to it, L.A.'s notorious alleys the only connector. I backed out and there was suddenly a car to the left of me and one to the right. So without gaging the distance of pi divided by an algorithm multiplied by 3 cars, I continued to back up and eventually hit the wall. The alleys are half the size of a street in Gulliver's Travels' Lilliput and I'm being kind.

One of the men in the cars said, "OH MY GOD, you can't drive like that, your bumper is going to fall off."

I got out of my car and there was no hanging chad bumper, just a big patch of scratches. I asked him where EXACTLY the bumper was hanging? He told me he just happened to have a body shop down the street (in Canada) and he could show me when we got there and then I would also be sold into white slavery for a slight fee. HOW STUPID DO PEOPLE THINK YOU ARE? Although in my case it's an on-the-fence question.

I asked him if he thought it was bad. He nodded. I said, "Then you're really not going to like this" and showed him the other side of the car, which I've scraped twice trying to back into my thimble-sized home parking spot.

I finally made it into Dr. K's office. Remember how I mentioned I blacked out during visits because I really don't want to know anything? Here's what I remember:

"You look like Kate Winslet, you know Titanic?" He also said it the first time I saw him.

So either I look like Kate or the Titanic. You choose.

During the x-rays portion he asked me if I was wearing a bra with metal. I said I was. I had to lower the top of my dress, turn the FUCKING bra around to unhook it because I'm still in puberty and he was waving a sheet in front of me like I was a bull and he the toreador. He was making me very nervous with all the sheet action. No wonder people were always afraid of Batman. Finally I said, "Look, if you haven't seen a pair of tits by now, you might look into homosexuality."

I don't think he heard me because he was concentrating so hard on not looking.

So I have this neck issue that begins with a 'sten.' Maybe I have stenographer's neck. I can't remember because by then he was putting needles into the sides of my hands and Holy Japanese Jesus, that really fucking hurts. LIKE KILLING HURTS. He was very careful with me because of all my scars and gingerly moved my arms, legs etc. I was on the table for almost 30 minutes and after it was over he said he couldn't believe I could lie on my back that long.

Oh sweetie, if you only knew.

End of chat.

Seriously, Can I Just Have ONE Normal Day?

My car hit a wall.
A man tried to scam me.
My acupuncturist saw my breasts.

Does anyone have any heroin I could borrow?

Cereal Killer

I was never an emotional eater. But before I went to India in 2006, I started. I was in extreme pain, could barely walk, scared to death and did I mention I went alone? While I was there I dropped 5 pounds in 2 weeks. As I prepared to leave, I put on the dress I came in with and another American who had been there as long as me remarked that I had lost weight then said, 'Yeah, when you came in wearing that dress I thought you must have had no friends to tell you that dress was too tight." I came in at 140, left at 135. I actually thanked her for telling me because she was right; no one had told me to just stop eating and I was pretending I had a fun house mirror in my place, the one that makes you look thin and tall. Remember my neighbor Ken who had said to me "I remember when you had a flat stomach." And the janitor of the Best Western at the end of my street who asked me when I was due? Due for what, to kick his ass?

Over last summer I got down to 123. Now I've started the late eating because Natasha Richardson died and a blogger wrote me and said her mother fell and died a week later and I've fallen 209 times and I have 2 more doctors to deal with and I'm not clear that a subdural hematona isn't growing somewhere BECAUSE I PEED ON MYSELF THROUGH A THONG. If that doesn't scream subdural hematoma growing slowing and working its way up my body then I don't know what does.

I've gone to doctors since I was 13 and there was always something wrong with me. Once I told that to a friend and she said STOP SAYING THERE'S ALWAYS SOMETHING WRONG WITH YOU. And I replied, I can't because there IS always something wrong with me.

Apparently some parts of The Secret I haven't quite mastered yet.

This week I'm weaning myself off Froot Loops, Multigrain Cheerios, Special K Red Berries and Corn Pops.

I'm now at 125 lbs and dangerously close to breaking the weight laws of L.A. so I had orange Metamucil for dinner. It would have tasted better with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. A Metamucicle! My weak calf has filled back to regular size so I'm thinking my right calf weights two pounds. IT COULD HAPPEN.

I never thought I'd ever say this in my life but I miss working out. Then you can eat whatever you want. Maybe today I'll ask the acupuncturist to put some needles in my carb section, which is all over my body.

End of chat.

Books, Blogs And Agents

I've had some comments about my book, All the Bad Sex I've Had, a very, very very long book.

Scrivel.com was hosting it and they recently let the website dangle. As you'll see, there was a lot of work that went into the site and the owner wanted to concentrate more on his computer business. There's a widget on the front page of my blog. If you click on it, it will take you to the website and then click on my name. It starts with part 1 and ends on part 11, but that's just the beginning. The book is finished, just not posted or published. The owner of Scrivel did a great job putting up everyone's pieces as other bloggers were asked to participate and I was happy to do so. And speaking of widgets, Uproar Entertainment has shut down so my blog for them is no longer available. Is this a test to see if I'll kill myself?

Nothing on the Scrivel site has ever appeared on my blog and I saved copies of Uproar. I provided 58% of their traffic and when I left, their traffic went down to nothing. I also raised their technorati.com numbers. From 21 million down to 4 million in 8 weeks. And WOW, I'm still sitting here staring into space.

Remember the literary agent I had? I fired them. Seriously, there must be a gun around here somewhere. What was the last thing the captain said to the cops on Hill Street Blues?

Be careful out there.

End of chat.