Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

Crazy Mothers Club, Part 2

Saturday, February 7th, 2009

Everyone knew that the woman who just had octuplets was crazy, but who knew she’d be crazy and arrogant?

Watching a preview of her interview on NBC, at first I was more horrified by her face than her words. What the hell did Nadya Suleman do to her face, and why isn’t anyone mentioning it?!   She has clearly had a terrible nose-job, leaving her with a tiny miniature of a nose that wouldn’t fool Helen Keller. Then, the inflated lips! What a mess. Perhaps she is going for an Angelina Jolie look, but as in her quest for babies, she is tragically deluded.

As far as I can tell, this woman has a pathological compulsion to acquire children, much like some disturbed people hoard animals. An animal hoarder is a person who amasses more animals than he/she can properly care for.” Oops! If you substitute babies for animals, the disorder fits her behavior perfectly.

Women who use their children to gratify their own narcissistic needs are discussed at length in Alice Miller’s landmark book, The Drama of the Gifted Child. If you haven’t read it, let me say that it’s often cited as “a book that changed my life.” It’s a book that is pressed upon others as essential reading. If you grew up feeling worthless, if you still struggle to be your ‘real’ self, if you worry that you might screw up your own children, this book will be a transformative experience.

Today I was thinking about childhood, and I recalled my mom screaming theatrically, “Why did god curse me with a child like you?” I remember how sad I felt, and how I wished I knew the answer to her question.

Now I know that what my mother meant was, I can’t control my anger and I can’t deal with the needs of a child.

I have lost my temper with my own kids more times than I want to remember. I hope and pray that I haven’t screwed them up too much. At least I won’t have traumatized them with a face that looks like a duck.

Again, if your mother was/is crazy, this club is for you! Feel free to speak up.

Flo and Kay: A Fascinating Documentary

Thursday, February 5th, 2009

Flo and Kay are autistic twins who are also savants: They can calculate calendar dates and they remember everything. They enjoy music and they worship Dick Clark like a deity, literally. They are sometimes called “The Rainman Twins,” which is unfortunate, since they are not movie characters. Their lives have been fraught with tragedy, but they are unusually happy and resilient.

Watching the documentary about Flo and Kay, I fell in love with them. I can’t even imagine anyone feeling differently.

My response at the end of the documentary was, Why doesn’t Dick Clark hook them up with some money, so they can afford better care? He has met the twins, and knows that they consider him their personal Savior. What’s a million dollars to Dick Clark?!?

What a fucking cunt.

No Luck for Levi Johnston

Tuesday, January 6th, 2009

Ever since he knocked up his girlfriend, nothing has gone right for poor Levi. One minute a rakish Wasilla heartthrob, the next minute a hostage at the RNC with no hope of freedom, ever.

Now he’s lost his job after it came out that he never finished high school, and he can blame that loudmouth Mrs. Palin for making a big stink about it.

Of course, Mrs. P. denies helping Levi get that high-paying job in the first place. That would be pulling strings or something, and with her high regard for this great country of ours, that is something she just would not do. She did write a letter of recommendation for Levi and here’s what it said:

“I have known Levi and his family for many years and am most impressed with Levi’s work ethic. Levi is organized, efficient, extremely competent, and will prove to be an excellent employee. Also, Levi’s physical strength and determination are assets that will be useful to your company.”

How brilliant is her coding?! Let us deconstruct the letter…

“I have known his family” means “I have had his mom busted for drug dealing.”
“extremely competent” means “He was able to impregnate my daughter twice.”
“Levi’s physical strength” means either “I find him pretty yummy myself!” or “Todd hasn’t been able to beat him up.”
“Useful to your company” means “Give his ass a job, or else.”

Now Levi’s life is ruined. His parents are divorcing, his dream of playing pro hockey is long gone, he has two babies with stupid names and he can’t afford to buy diapers. All he wanted to do was drink, do drugs, shoot his rifle and screw his girlfriend! If there’s a god, why is he so mad at poor Levi?!

I have a hunch that he wanted to name that baby Trapped, instead of Tripp, but I can’t prove it….yet.

If you were Levi, what would you do?

Bad Sex in Literature Award

Thursday, November 27th, 2008

Britain’s Literary Review has announced the winner of its annual Bad Sex in Literature award. Rachel Johnson won for a passage in her satirical novel “Shire Hell,” and John Updike won a Lifetime Achievement award for his many contributions over the years.

I think this is a great idea, although I’m not sure how it works. Do the judges hunt for bad sex passages all year long or do people send in nominations, or what?

Although Ms. Johnson was commended for using the “worst metaphors” in a group of “equally awful entries,” a couple of the other candidates are impressive enough to deserve attention.

Here is a bit from “To Love, Honor and Betray” by Kathy Lette.

His towel fell away. Sebastian’s erect member was so big I mistook it for some sort of monument in the centre of a town.

Hahaha! Great, isn’t it? Here’s a passage from “Triptych of a Young Wolf” by Ann Allestree:

‘You are so moist down there.’ He stroked and probed her with two fingers as she felt her blood waken. He raised himself to his knees and bent to roll his tongue around her weeping orifice. He was bringing her to a pitch of ecstasy when she heard Madame Veuve, on the landing, put down the supper tray. Whiffs of onion soup strayed over them as he engulfed her.

It really is an art.

Let’s have a contest for the Godammit Bad Sex in Blog Comments Award. I haven’t thought out the prize yet, but it will be GOOD. I promise.

No filthy language, please. Anyone can write porn; this is about creative writing and the lofty heights that language can achieve.

If you read some of the excerpts from this year’s selections, you are bound to feel inspired. Here’s my extemporaneous attempt:

He unzipped his skin-tight Levis and extracted all twelve inches of his throbbing member, which ached for the heavenly   cavern she had hidden between her creamy waxed thighs. “Ow!” she screamed wildly, thrashing like a horse giving birth to twin foals.

Okay, so something like that, only a thousand times better. Ready, get set, go!

Come Out, Come Out!

Monday, November 17th, 2008

Wanda Sykes, one of my favorite comedians, came out yesterday as a result of Prop. 8. I salute her and can only imagine the courage it took as a Black entertainer to identify herself as gay. I’ve been counting on Queen Latifah, but I guess she feels she has too much to lose, and that’s the problem.

It’s easy for me as a heterosexual white woman to feel frustrated with Queen Latifah, Anderson Cooper, and John Travolta for refusing to come out of the closet. The gay community could use their help in teaching the ignorant that gay is normal and okay.

To help inspire anyone who’s afraid to come out, let me say this:

I have fibromyalgia!

In January of this year, I wrote about fibromyalgia here and made fun of it as a fake disorder. I still get comments about it, both mocking and defensive. It’s still a divisive subject, and it’s easy to see why.

When I got the fibromyalgia diagnosis a few months ago, I was furious. I told the rhumatologist, “But I don’t want that! I don’t even believe in it!” She was sympathetic. I called my friends, who all laughed hysterically, just as I’d expected. I laughed too. It fucking serves me right for making fun of it.   The doctor urged me to start walking instead of sitting on my ass all day. I forced my self to walk my dog, and ended up in the hospital. [see Pain Journals] There, I was in too much pain to think about fibromyalgia. Later, I was reminded of it when I woke up each morning with sore muscles and feeling like I’d been the loser in a titanic boxing match.

I still think it’s funny, though! I wrote a song about fibromyalgia while I was in the hospital, delirious on morphine. If I knew how to add audio to this, I’d sing it right now, that’s how good it is. I even want the pink Fibromyalgia Awareness Bracelet (hint: think Christmas!)

My poor husband begs me every day to “do something” for my fibromyalgia. He even brought home two awful books last night about how to “manage” it. The books make me more disgusted than ever with Fibro, as we call it in the Fibro business. The “illness” is traced to everything you can think of: childhood abuse, overly-sensitive nervous system, fucked up neuro-transmitters, chronic stress. The symptoms, again, include insomnia, restless sleep, depression, fatigue, fucked up digestive system, fuzzy memory, head ache, bla bla bla.

Basically, the Fibro portrait is that of a screwed-up woman with emotional problems. Who wants to identify with that?? It’s stupid and embarrassing, like hemmmoroids or psoriasis only worse because it’s not even supposed to exist.

So, here is my coming out party. Yay for me! I am bravely admitting that every one of my muscles is sore and I wake up going Ow! Ow! like an old man with lumbago. I’m not planning to do anything about it unless it starts impinging on my lifestyle of doing nothing.

Now, does anyone want to come out if you’ve been too embarrassed or afraid to? Or would you like to make fun of my Fibro? Let the games begin.

Let’s Hear it for Gutsy Gals

Sunday, November 16th, 2008

We can’t be through with Mrs. Palin until she gives us a little breathing room. I’m hopin’ that god will show her one of those doors she’s waitin’ for. She’ll snowplow her way through and then, oops, fall off a cliff. Meanwhile, Dick Cavett is still upset by her and so is Andrew Sullivan. Here, above, is a young Mrs. P at a moose-butchering party. Even then, she knew how to use her looks to distract everyone from the vacant cranial cavity.

I’ve recently found another gutsy gal to take an interest in. Grace Mugabe, the ‘Fist Lady’ of Zimbabwe, is known as an Imelda Marcos wannabe who shops till she drops in Paris and Rome while her country starves. She even had a mansion built in her honor and called it Graceland, but she got tired of it and sold it to Liberia.

Grace sounds like a real piece of work. Zimbabwe has an astronomical inflation rate and twenty per cent of its people are HIV positive. The average woman there lives to age 45 and has probably been raped. Grace herself is obsessed with Ferragamo shoes, quite naturally.

In the tradition of Imelda and Evita, though, she is not all bad. Here’s a news brief about how she donated twenty computers to Solusi University and pledged to fund two (that’s 2) scholarships for needy students. Ha! I’ve already “donated” nearly twenty computers to my teenager. Big fucking deal.   Notice her greeting a student named “Marvelous Bhebhe.” One day, Marvelous may lead a movement to remove Mrs. Mugabe and her husband from Zimbabwe.   If Marvelous wears an 8 narrow, she can keep the Ferragamos.

Jesus loves Gay Marriage

Saturday, November 15th, 2008

I am happy to announce PAP Smear’s new adoption program. We will start off with Mark’s generous offer to adopt WIllow and Piper Palin. This is a true blessing for these girls, who will be raised in Connecticut by two loving, educated fathers who will provide them with the New York Times, trips to museums and foreign movies, and an opportunity to attend a nice private college.

Cker will be adopting Trig, and not a moment too soon. She will rid him of the cruel name and begin early intervention so that he learns to walk instead of facing a life of being passed around family members like a gravy boat. I know he will flourish with Cker and her family!

I personally have adopted annemarie, since she was so obviously born to the wrong mother (i.e. not me.)   If Track survives the secret CIA plot on his life and agrees to six months in rehab, I think he will make a nice adoptee for someone with patience and a firm hand.

Moving on to other issues, I’m sure you’re all as enraged as I am about Prop. 8 in California, which forbids gay couples the right to marry. I’ve just watched some morons yelling about it on TV. The Christian homophobes who defend this attempt to curtail civil rights have no logical or legitimate argument other than this: Marriage is already a shaky institution.

So what?! Maybe if gay couples start marrying, marriage will be more popular. Maybe there will be less divorce, since many gay couples have had the time to think long and hard about taking those vows seriously.

Gay marriage doesn’t threaten marriage as an institution but rather increases its  ongoing relevance  as a way to live, and a way to commit to loving relationships. The only reason to take offense is if one feels personally threatened by gayness, in which case that’s a problem for a psychologist to help with.

Let’s let everyone do what they want in their private life. If you absolutely insist on invoking the bible, start with: Love thy neighbor as yourself. Of course, this doesn’t work with my particular neighbors, but you know what it means.

If you wish to apply for an adoption, please submit your application here. Same-sex couples welcome.

Can’t Mrs. P Just Shut Up?

Wednesday, October 1st, 2008

I know it’s not just me, because I went to a dinner where everyone was shouting across the table about Sarah Palin. I am now feeling resentful toward CBS, which keeps dribbling out more pieces of Katie Couric’s interview with that fucking moron. Can’t we just get it over with?! It’s starting to feel like an ongoing root canal of a great big molar.

Try reading Mrs. P’s answer when Katie Couric asked her if she disagreed with any Supreme Court decisions besides Roe vs Wade:

“Well, I could think of, of any again, that could be best dealt with on a more local level. Maybe I would take issue with. But you know, as mayor, and then as governor and even as a vice president, if I’m so privileged to serve, wouldn’t be in a position of changing those things but in supporting the law of the land as it reads today.”

How could Katie manage to contain herself?!   This sort of gibberish has inspired a Palinism Generator (thanks,   Nick, for finding it!)   My webmaster was nice enough to modify it slightly and here is our new version.

But it doesn’t stop there.   Here’s what Palin said in an interview with talk-show host Hugh Hewitt:

“It’s time that normal Joe Six-pack American is finally represented in the position of vice presidency.” [No, it isn’t! ] “I know what Americans are going through. Todd and I, heck, we’re going through that right now even as we speak, which may put me again kind of on the outs of those Washington elite who don’t like the idea of just an everyday, working-class American running for such an office.”

Can’t you just hear that inexplicably Fargo-esque accent and diction??

She ends up revealing that the First Dude lost $20,000 from his 401(k) retirement account last week.   Wow, how the hell do you get to lose that much if you’re just, you know, Joe Six-Pack??

Here’s how: Regular ol’ Mrs. P is worth $1.2 million! How does she manage to look so trashy with that kind of money?!   Please, god, make that question come up in the debate!

Grandpa Wants a Nap!

Wednesday, September 24th, 2008

Wouldn’t you know, Grandpa wants to cancel the debate scheduled for Friday night!   He needs to go to Washington to pretend he’s a leader.

NO, GRANDPA! It’s not time for your nap! You can’t back out of the debate just because the economy is bad. What the fuck does he take us for? Are we idiots?!   Are we in Inglewood?! Grandpa is also talking about postponing the vice-presidential debate, according to CNN.

These people are desperate, and they’re hoping to somehow steal this election just like George W did. I’m at the point where nothing seems too bizarre or evil, including the President threatening that the whole world will end unless congress passes his $700 billion deal.

Fuck these crazy bastards. Go here and watch the tape of Mrs. P getting blessed by a Witch Doctor. Be afraid. Then, go here and you may decide, as I have, that Tigger is poor Bristol’s baby, not Mrs. P’s. There is more evidence than any sentient being can possibly reject as ‘just rumors.’

*UPDATE:   And look! I got my images to upload.   No one can mess with me, godammit,   not even wordpress.

Pausing to cry and reflect

Tuesday, September 16th, 2008

This is Mandy. Today I learned that she died from an overdose. I don’t know what her drug of choice was. I think she took anything she could get her hands on. I met her at the rehab place where I went every week to visit a loved one.

She was a very wounded girl who I wanted to save, but you can’t save people. That’s supposed to be obvious.

She was around 23, anorexic, miserable, desperate and defiant. She manipulated everyone around her. Even me. I didn’t really mind it, though. I wanted to help. I thought she just needed love and support. Everyone at the rehab place expected her to end up dead, such was her commitment to hurting herself.

One day after she left L.A., I erased her text messages, thinking they took too much room in my phone. I kept one though, and I don’t know why. It says: “Thanks, I had fun today.”

Poor little Mandy. Underneath the tattoos and bravado, she was an innocent child who someone must have damaged long ago.

She used to put her head down to show me her blond roots, which she hated. I always responded by showing her my own roots, the gray ones. It was like an alien greeting and it made us laugh.

Other people are reeling from losses today, and my heart aches for them, but it aches most for Mandy.

Send her a prayer to the god of your understanding.