HOLLYWOOD: Where HOT Comes To Die ®

Look Homeward, Angel

2012-02-13T18:37:00.000-08:00

No one should have a local homeless man but in big cities, that's often the case. I only lived in the neighborhood a month before I saw him, sitting and leaning against a wall. His head usually lowered, a blue knit hat on his head. He didn't beg for money. If he was looking up, I said hello. He would nod back and sometimes choke out a word. I think it was Hello but I can't be sure.

One day I asked him if I could buy him breakfast at McDonald's, which was across the street. He said yes but didn't tell me what he wanted. So I asked if I could get him what I got myself and he nodded. Didn't he know what was at McDonald's? Or was he too proud to tell me what he wanted? Afraid it would be too much?

After that day, I became very aware of how often I walked by him. Was I supposed to buy him a meal each time? Coffee? If I'd had the money, I would have bought him food every time I saw him. But I didn't. And when you're down on your luck, what do you offer someone else down on theirs? My recent financial situation had been shaky and I no longer thought my hellos were enough. So every now and then I crossed the street before I got to him. Or cut through a parking lot to avoid seeing him. I was ashamed that I couldn't help this man because I had to help myself first. It bothered me every time. I felt horrible and hated myself on the days I ignored a man so down on his luck that he sat in the same place each day, head lowered, waiting for what? My hello? Any hello? A sandwich?

And then one day a month ago I saw this:

I live in a Hispanic neighborhood and like the ancient Egyptians, they believe you need to leave food, water and light to guide the deceased to their final destination. I completely lost it when I saw this makeshift memorial. He was found by the manager of the McDonald's, who had come over to offer him a cup of coffee. The police came. The ambulance came. It was all over.

A man walked by and saw how distraught I was and he said he was too. That he passed the man for months and never said a word to him until a few days before he died. He asked him how he ended up on the street and the man replied he had come to California to better his life. I cried the entire way home.

This is what remained of his things:

The last possessions of a man who was lost in Los Angeles. And in the world. The memorial is still there, the candles lit every night by some thoughtful people trying to guide his soul home. If he had no family, no identification, where would he be buried? Who would take care of his affairs? Or did he have any to take care of? So this memorial may be all he ever receives. All that marks his place on earth. At least until he returns in another lifetime.

I hope he sees it and knows how sorry I am, how sorry we all are. And that we hope he's at peace.

The Cool Cars Of Santa Monica, California

2012-02-07T10:00:00.000-08:00

Santa Monica: It's all about the designer sunglasses you wear, the private schools your kids go to and how tight your jeans are. And if you don't have the black Birkin bag? Tragedy! But this is the land of the upper middle class, the rich and the very wealthy.They have stuff. LOTS of expensive stuff. Including cars.

Over Super Bowl weekend I saw these beauties standing silent on the street, waiting for instructions.

A truck from the 60's? The inside is black leather and when's the last time you saw white walls? I have no idea what that silver tank-like item is that hugs the back window. I hope it's not a nuclear bomb. I've often loitered beside the truck, hoping the owner would come out and tell me to stop breathing on it, but alas, no such luck.

I'd be scared of these people if I didn't seriously think they owned the Hello Kitty franchise.

The license plate reads MPATHY. Something no one has for a person who drives a Mercedes for the love of God. I only noticed this car because it's the same color as my 1998 Ford Contour. I was so ahead of the color curve. And way behind the Mercedes curve.

This car is sitting on Adelaide, long considered one of the wealthiest streets in all of Santa Monica. It's around the corner from my sister's building, on a one way street that is mostly used by runners, dog walkers and the people who live there. It's peaceful, quiet and has spectacular views. The houses are all architecturally different, old but fabulous and overlooking the Pacific Ocean. But how this station wagon got here tells me someone is either A. Very old B. Very, very old. C. Visiting from 1982.

Some of the homes on Adelaide:

The house below was so big I couldn't get it into one shot.

You can see my sister Lindy's building off to the right below.

When the recession was in full swing, about two years ago, a family on Adelaide lost their home. They moved into a van and parked on isolated streets at night. It was the talk of the neighborhood because, ON ADELAIDE??

These are all Old Money homes. There are grander, newer homes in Brentwood or Beverly Hills but it's all Nouveau Money and you know how much we hate Nouveau Money. Although I could use some Nouveau Money right about now. Don't hate me, have MPATHY for my bank account.

L.A. Sign Of The Times #95

2012-02-02T13:38:00.000-08:00

I'm fairly certain this resonates with a lot of people:

I know because down in the lower left hand corner, someone tried to steal it by pulling off the paper.

Santa Monica Blvd
Hollywood, California

How Cool Are These Shoes?

2012-01-31T00:05:00.000-08:00

How badly do you want to paint the soles of these shoes and pace back and forth in front of The White House?

Picture courtesy of Advanced Style.

The Winner Of My Funny Valentine!!

2012-01-30T08:45:00.000-08:00

I want to thank everyone who entered. I wish I could send you each a book because some of you are such loyal and obviously mentally deranged readers of mine that you deserve one.

I removed the 2 people who asked not to be included because they already owned the book. Two others also owned the book but decided to enter anyway because THEY ARE HOARDERS.

So congratulations Janie Junebug! Send me your snail mail and I'll get the book out to you.

My Funny Valentine

2012-01-25T11:06:00.000-08:00

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.

Give Me My Words Or Give Me Death

2012-01-23T11:21:00.000-08:00

When the Space Shuttle Challenger blew up in 1986, killing all on board including Christa McAuliffe, the first member of the Teacher in Space Project, the following joke hit the streets within minutes of the disaster:

Q: “What were Christa McAuliffe’s last words?”
A: “What does this button do?”

If that joke had made the rounds today with the Internet as our Orwellian gatekeeper, the person who first said it would be spending hours apologizing to the McAuliffe family and explaining themselves to the press. And if they were employed they probably would have been fired.

Like it or not, comedians say things others are thinking but are afraid to speak out loud. It’s brave. It’s often cringe-worthy. But mainly it’s brave.

The purpose of comedy is to make people think. Its purpose is not to make you comfortable or make you smile. Its purpose is to make you laugh. And in the pursuit of that end, there will be casualties.

What other profession combines making you think with making you laugh? Politics, but that’s probably not on purpose.

Does this mean we can’t make fun of death or tragedies but can make fun of little old ladies driving in Florida, Mexicans trying to get into the U.S. or Tiger Woods and his white mistresses? Where do you draw the line and do you draw it for everyone? Or just for yourself? The correct answer to that question should be Just For Yourself. Please leave the rest of us out of it. Don’t tell me what I can’t say and I won’t tell you how badly you need a nose job.

I was unfollowed on Twitter by an irate gentleman who took exception to this tweet of mine:

“People in Mississippi can't wear white sheets after Labor Day.”

The U.K.’s most controversial and, according to him, most fired radio personality Neal Mayhem was unfollowed for this tweet:

"Police now use an iPhone app that scans irises to ID suspects. It replaces their previous method: scanning for dark skin."

Of course both Neal and I thought our tweets were hilarious. Others did not. That’s because comedy is subjective. Not forbidden.

While she was interviewing people on the red carpet, celebrity basher Kathy Griffin said that Dakota Fanning was in rehab. Steven Spielberg’s movie War of the Worlds was coming out and insiders speculated that he insisted that the E! channel ban Kathy for saying such a "horrible" thing to the young star of his movie.

They did.

Off the wall comedian Tracy Morgan was performing in a comedy club and after a lengthy anti-gay rant ended it by saying he would not talk to his child and would stab him if that child was gay. NBC threatened 30 Rock with pulling advertisers if Tracy didn’t apologize.

Tracy apologized.

Because 75% of Aflac’s business is in Japan, well known shock comic Gilbert Gottfried was fired from being the annoying duck voice on the annoying Aflac commercial because of a series of dark but funny tweets he made about last year's Japanese tsunami.

Gilbert apologized.

The world jumps on the lone tweet, comment or sound bite from a comic while we let movies like The Hangover - which is phobic, racist and sexist – slide. The 40 year Old Virgin had an entire scene of "You're so gay because…" and it was never criticized once in the press. There appears to be selective outrage when it comes to products that make millions of dollars, like hit movies, and stand up comedians, who don't.

Stop the political correctness; I want to get off.

I don’t have to like or agree with anything anyone says but threaten me and you threaten the first amendment of the U.S. Constitution, part of the Bill of Rights:

The 1st Amendment protects the freedom of religion, speech, and the press, as well as the right to assemble and petition the government.

We have to let the Westboro Baptist Church protest at funerals of soldiers, gays and public figures like former First Lady Betty Ford because it’s their right. We wouldn’t dream of taking away someone’s religious freedoms even if it is as hateful as theirs.

Firing someone, forcing them to resign, threatening them with loss of income doesn’t work. Because people keep speaking their minds. As recently as Academy Awards producer Brett Ratner, who made a gay slur and ‘resigned’ from this year's event. Did Ratner live in a bubble so small that he was unaware of the trouble Gilbert Gottfried and Tracy Morgan got into? Did he, a movie director, not hear about Danish movie director Lars von Trier, who was ousted and banned from the Cannes Film Festival in 2011 for saying he sympathized with Hitler and was himself a Nazi? Apparently the Danish are not known for their comedic talents because Von Trier said he was trying to make a joke.

Not all of my jokes go over either.

I'm Afraid Of Water

2012-01-18T17:14:00.000-08:00

Not when I see it like this, out the window of my friend's condo in Santa Monica,

but when I see it like this, out the window of hell.

My fear is so irrational that once in Ocean City, Maryland, a "friend" threatened to throw me in the water and I bit his arm so hard it surely had to be amputated. At least I hope it did because that's how much I hated him, especially while I screamed, "Please don't, I'm afraid of water, pleeeeeaaase don't!"

"Jean, did I kill a little boy on a water ride of motorized boats when I was 4 years old?" Jean stuttered a little. (AHA!)
"Uh, no honey, you didn't."
"Are you SURE?"

Jean, a friend of my parents, has known me since I was born. This memory of my murderous past had haunted me for years and I finally got enough courage to ask her about it. Surely there's a statute of limitations on killing someone on a motorized boat when you were a child, isn't there?

Jean was more than sure because she'd taken me to that particular street fair and no one had died. I thought she might have been lying. She probably thought I was insane.

When I was 13, my mother, sister and I took the Queen Elizabeth to Cherbourg, France, on our way to Paris to visit our grandparents, which we did every summer. On this particular voyage we met a man who took us down below, to the loading bay. It was wide open and there was a metal chain stretched across the opening. The Atlantic Ocean rushed past in a blue fury, whitecaps dotting the landscape as far as the eye could travel. The man told us to step back and be very careful.

When, many years later, I asked my mother why she let this stranger take us so close to danger she replied that IT NEVER HAPPENED. I'm pretty sure you can't get Alzheimer's at 13 but maybe I was singled out because of my bad perm and braces. Not to mention because I hated my parents.

The only time I went to sleep away camp I was in a pool that had no shallow end. It was a pool specifically designed to teach kids to swim. Terrified, I clung to the edges. Every time this one counselor walked by she'd step on my hands and make me shove off into the middle of the pool where I sputtered and took in water like the Titanic. I hope she's dead now because if I ever find her I'll make her wish she was.

A lifetime of strange water memories. It didn't appear that some of them were real. Then how did I remember them so vividly and what did they have to do with my fear of water? Like the chicken and the egg, which came first, my fear or those incidents?

I meditate and have for over 25 years. I've studied metaphysics longer. I read Shakti Gawain's Creative Visualizations in the 1980's and got in touch with my Higher Self, sometimes known as a spirit guide. It's the voice in your head that tells you what to do, or what not to do. Mine turned out to be a 7 foot tall man with a flowing white beard. His name was Raji and he WALKED TOWARDS ME ON A BEACH during my first meditation about contacting the Higher Self. A beach is next to water in case the cap locked letters weren't enough of a clue.

I depended on Raji for advice until I moved to California and he disappeared. How does a non-human form disappear? One day while I was out hiking I realized he no longer "talked" to me. The next year I had new guides, 4 or 5, depending on the day. They were very loving and encouraging, like Raji, and there was one in particular, a Scotsman, who kept calling me Laddie. And I would reply that I was a Lassie (not the dog) but he didn't seem to care and continued to call me Laddie. He spoke in a Scottish accent and in my entire acting career the Scottish accent is the one accent I could never replicate.

Everyone has a Higher Self. Everyone. You hear the voice but you may discount it as your own. It's not you. It's the voice that tells you to turn right at the stoplight but you turn left and then realize you were wrong. It's the same power that kept showing me a vision of my new apartment in June of last year. The apartment that I eventually moved into.

I worked a lot as a comic the first 10 years I lived here in L.A. I traveled to clubs all over the U.S., Canada and overseas and went to Hawaii once a year. On one trip I was on the island of Maui, lying on a towel on the beach in front of my hotel. I went into one of my meditations and silently asked why I was so drawn to Hawaii that I cried whenever I left.

And one of my guides answered: "Because this is where you drowned."

L.A. Sign Of The Times #94

2012-01-17T15:51:00.000-08:00

This painted building is at the top of my street. Whenever I look at it I think, "What are THEY doing on that painting?" Are they a world famous icon? I THINK NOT.

Can you guess which one I'm referring to?

Why I Love My Day Job

2012-01-05T07:59:00.001-08:00

This is who I house sit: Brady. He jumps on my bed at 7:15 each morning I'm there and makes me think EARTHQUAKE!! So I get up, assuming he wants to go outside, we go into the living room and he jumps on one of the couches and promptly goes back to sleep.

It Took Columbus Less Time To Discover America Than It Took This Person To Take A Picture Of Herself Wearing My Tee Shirt

2012-01-02T15:23:00.000-08:00

She's had the shirt since August. Of 2011. How do I know that's how long she's had it? I hand delivered it to her. In San Diego. San Diego, California. I'd like to say I made the trip from LA to SD expressly for this purpose but that would be a lie. There was BlogHer Adjacent going on and she graciously invited me to sleep in her garage.

Another lie.

In her well appointed and spacious spare bedroom. I stole nothing. But there's always a next time.

I'm beginning to think the wait was worth it because she appears younger and younger in each new picture I see of her. Naturally I call bullshit.

When I wrote her and demanded to know how she was accomplishing this she replied that all her kids were now OUT OF THE HOUSE, except for one piece of cake child, a girl (a beautiful girl) who gives this mom of 4 zero trouble. She thinks she's finally able to relax after 86 years of child rearing. I may be off on that number.

I'm pretty sure you all read this blogger already but if you don't, start. And if you leave her a comment please ask her to run for Congress. We need more women running things THE WAY THEY SHOULD BE RUN. i.e. unlike a man.

And if there's anyone who could whip Congress into shape, this woman could.

My Favorite Tweets Of 2011

2011-12-28T13:40:00.000-08:00

People always ask me how I come up with a list of my favorite tweets each year. I pick the ones I wish I'd written.

@Cheeseboy22
I feel guilty for not spending enough time with my kids. I should really get them a twitter account.

@badbanana
I sure buy a lot of alcohol. Hope I'm not a shopaholic.

@TrainedHedonist
If I ever dated a blind girl, I'd have to stop myself from touching her boob and yelling "Hey asshole, she's blind!"

@NickadooLA
I don't understand interventions. What's the point of being told I drink too much by a room full of the reasons I drink in the first place?

@BSeanRoss
Blonde Zooey Deschanel in "Elf," or brunette in "New Girl," hard to figure out which one I'd least like to bang; probably Whitney Cummings.

@itsa_talia
Wine bottles should have twist off tops because it's hard to stop crying long enough to get the cork out.

@buck4itt
Starbucks was out of those little cardboard sleeves but my barista provided great customer service by letting me use his philosophy degree.

@MarinkaNYC
Casey Anthony not guilty, changes name to Susan B.

@JoeMande
Happy birthday to Scott Caan who is 5'5'' today.

@YUCKYBOT
"WE'RE PREGNANT!" --Guy who doesn't understand anatomy

@MrFornicator
You know what would be really cool? If we charged broke people for their own money. ~Prepaid Credit Card inventor

@AlbertBrooks
I hate the treadmill. I hate the stationary bike. I hate running in the street. Can't I stay in shape just by hating?

@preawsaurus
it's a sad state of the world when you can't let your 3yo out for a beer run without fearing he'll be kidnapped.

@Josh_Britain
I spend most of my weekends sitting outside the Macy's fitting room holding a purse so strangers think I have a girlfriend.

@MinutesofMayhem
A study's found that silver's no longer America's favourite car colour. Also, black's no longer America's favourite President colour.

@HeyitsLori
Writing a check at the grocery store is an excellent way of letting people know you have a plastic rain hat in your purse.

@JimGaffigan
I have more pictures of my kids than my Dad even looked at me.

@sarkastickunt
He said I should've been able to finish the laundry since I don't do anything all day and THAT is why I killed him officer.

@DoucheMcBaggus
Men have no shame, therefore, it's just another walk.

@kellyoxford
Taking notes in a small notebook when someone asked in shock “What are you doing?” 2011: When handwriting became suspicious.

@moooooog35
You know you're an asshole when you get sexted with "your dirty" and you reply, "you're."

@debontherocks
My mom is complaining no one can send me emails because I send them to "Snoops." Yes, mom, "Snoops" and I are why we can't have nice frauds.

@JohnFugelsang
One good thing about Facebook is how it will ultimately kill the entire high school reunion industry.

@AdInsanitum
Amazing that I can fit three laptops in the same space a social life used to take up!

@jennyandteets
My husband's ex girlfriend is sitting in her living room watching tv. Don't ask me how I got this information.

@BorowitzReport
If cavemen had Twitter we would still not have fire.

More Old Stuff

2011-12-24T08:26:00.000-08:00

I found this picture among my Dad's things after he died. I'd never seen it before and instantly fell in love with it. The glasses! The dresses! I picture them sitting on that custom made couch or in those theatre seats in my last post. The bride's name was Betty but I have no idea what the names of the bridesmaids were. Are they all still alive? Did they have happy lives?

The Couch I Wish I Owned

2011-12-20T17:41:00.000-08:00

This is a custom made reproduction 1950's era couch. It's sitting in the lounging area of the Nordstrom's women's department at the Glendale Galleria. If I could have stuffed it into my purse I would've made off with it. Because I believe in stealing beauty. Which is why I have Angelina Jolie locked in my bathroom.

I like old stuff. It reminds me of people I've never met and a time I've never known and how interesting it all must have been.

These original theater seats, for example. I bought them at the Pasadena Flea Market in 2002 for $300. Underneath one of them is a wire rack that was made expressly for gentlemen to stow their brimmed hats when they went to the movies. So they wouldn't block the view of the people sitting in back of them. Because apparently people were more polite back then. And probably didn't annoy others by talking on their cell phones even though they didn't exist. The cell phones, not the people.

I spent years searching for a 1950's era TV. There was a thrift shop in LA that sold them but every time I went in to ask for one, the man who owned the place laughed and said they spent about 6 seconds in the shop before they were sold. He put me on a waiting list. 16 years ago. He still hasn't called me.

My dad lived in St. Petersburg, Florida and died in 2001. I spent a lot of time there trying to get his estate in order (it eventually took me 3 years) (fuck). On one trip I found this beauty for $75.00. I was shocked because the price for a 1950's era TV starts at $500. Starts.

By the time I got back to the shop with my Dad's car, the owner had returned and was FURIOUS that his sales guy, a kid about 19 years old, had let the TV go for so little. I played dumb when the owner asked me if I was aware of how much these televisions normally went for. Fortunately for me I'm very good at playing dumb. I'm not only blonde but I have a Bachelor's Degree in Theater. This might have been the only time it came in handy. Sorry Mom and Dad.

I can't tell you how many times I patted myself on the back for scoring a $500 TV for $75.

I'd get up in the morning, look in the mirror and say, "Good morning, genius." And also, "Good morning Angelina, breakfast will be right out."

To crate and ship the TV across country cost me $500.

L.A Sign Of The Times #94

2011-12-13T06:37:00.000-08:00

Mom and our Greek waiter at our favorite Greek restaurant in Los Angeles, Ulysses Voyage.

Farmer's Market, Los Angeles November 27, 2011

And The Bound And Gagged Winner Is...

2011-12-12T08:52:00.000-08:00

...Two Normal Moms!!

Please send me your snail mail so Nancy can sign and get the book out to you today!!

Congratulations and to everyone else, remember the book is available on Amazon.

College Bound And Gagged

2011-12-07T10:37:00.000-08:00

My dear friend, Nancy Berk, a PhD and comedian, wrote this very funny book to help all you people who, instead of actively looking for colleges for your kids, are sitting in a corner sucking on your gin-soaked thumbs. Bravo. Your daughter is going to Mom's Couch College and your son will be accepted at Living In My Parent's Garage University.

I'm hosting a giveaway of this must-have book for parents of aging teenagers.

Sidebar: I would give away my jewelry collection to be called an aging teenager JUST ONE MORE TIME. Thanks, God.

So leave me a comment and you'll be eligible to receive this book for FREE. If you're not a winner, you can go to the link above and buy it off Amazon. But Free is better. At least that's what people tell me.

One of the best tips in the book is "Your child is going to college, not you, so don't make choices for them that are secretly your own."

Nancy also includes money saving tips and great chapter titles like You're Grounded. One of my favorite quotes from the book:

I've never understood why the cotton gin always gets tagged "best invention" and the dining room table is never nominated.

Anyone can leave a comment, tell all your friends!! and I'll pick a winner by Monday December 12th. Nancy will send out your book and it will arrive in time for Christmas!!

I Don't Know Where She Got This But You Can Contact Her And Ask Her

2011-11-27T10:36:00.000-08:00

One of my twitter followers, a mom named Rachael, has been sending me New York Times bestsellers for the last few months. I've been incredibly lucky to have a friend like her because based on my past "issues", buying bestsellers is out of the question. And I haven't resorted to stealing yet but next year is a new year! Watch out Barnes and Noble!

The scan of this card she sent along with the latest book, The Jacqueline Kennedy interviews with Arthur Schlesinger, Jr. PLUS ALL THE AUDIO TAPES, doesn't even do it justice because the words Blog are all in bright silver and the I'm More Interesting On My is in black and the Blog is red, but a bolder red than my HP scanner could pick up. I guess HP doesn't have enough money to color correct. Poor things.

Rachael holds regular pity parties on her blog but they're not like my pity parties. Or probably yours.

If you want to know where she got this card go to Rachael's blog and ask her! And follow her on Twitter at @happyrachael.

I was a reluctant Twitter convert but have now been on it for TWO YEARS. (thanks to this person) I can't say enough about how it's changed my life. Much more than blogging.

And now I'm on Google+, Facebook, LinkedIn, Tumblr and favstar.fm.

The nightmare never ends.

25 Things You Didn't Know About Me

2011-11-20T10:07:00.000-08:00

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?

2011-11-08T09:22:00.000-08:00

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."

Why Does Everyone Look Better Than Me?

2011-11-02T15:00:00.000-07:00

I'm always happy when I get an email from someone who wants to buy a tee shirt. Especially a person I didn't force to buy one, like most of the other people who bought them under duress.

This is Tricia, also known as Sassy Pants Momma. She has the funniest tag line of any blog I've ever read.

The most annoying thing about this tee shirt is that it looks good on everyone but me. It even looks better on the assorted dogs, Elmo's and mannequins that people have sent in. I'd like to say it's because my enormous rack stretches it out and makes me look like I have porn star 44 GG's but having seen some of the racks under some of these Teeshirters, that's a lie. Not that I've actually seen these racks in the flesh. Purely over the shirt speculation when I drive by their homes and look inside with my binoculars.

I forgot where that sentence was going and should call out a search party on it.

Tricia's up on my sidebar where she will stay until someone else sends in a picture of them wearing it JUGGLING JENN I'M TALKING TO YOU. I hope you have a good book, Tricia, you're going to be there for a while.

If Everyone Loves Something, I'll Hate It

2011-10-24T15:53:00.000-07:00

I don't like trendy things. When everyone lost their virginity at an early age? I didn't. When everyone started getting tattoos, I didn't. When everyone started wearing black fingernail polish, I didn't.

So I certainly can't get behind any of these things:

MODERN FAMILY:

Like Ed O'Neil could get a Sofia Vergara in any lifetime.

SOUP

If I wanted hot liquid with no porkchops in it I'd stand under the shower and open my mouth.

JOHNNY DEPP

Enough already with the Pirates movies. And stop pushing your hair out of your eyes every 20 seconds. That's from the Jennifer Aniston School of Acting. That's not a compliment.

PLATES ON A WALL

For the love of God, Grandma, go to Ikea and buy a 20 dollar print.

IKEA

Besides being unable to navigate the store in less than 3 months, if you look at their furniture under a microscope you see little Swedish people pointing and laughing at you because you can't afford expensive stuff.

THE SIMPSONS

People have suggested I came too late to the Simpsons party and that it was better in the beginning. The beginning of what? The end of time?

End of chat.

Suzy And Neal Mayhem, Sitting In A Tree

2011-10-22T06:01:00.000-07:00

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.

L.A. Sign Of The Times #93

2011-10-20T12:19:00.000-07:00

L.A. Sign Of The Times #92

2011-10-19T12:58:00.000-07:00

The only church on my street. Unless a cross means something else in Korean.