15 Nov Crack The Internet!

By now, we’ve ALL seen Kim Kardashian’s ass, NUMEROUS times via various media portals.  Her ass has gotten more media attention than the Ebola crisis, cancer research and the ASCPA combined.  Kim’s “ass-tention” has even surpassed one of the first ladies to put ASS on the map, a TRUE O.G. of ASS and talent: J.Lo! That’s the thing! Kim Kardashian, among a few other chicks out there, was able and allowed to do all of this without ever holding any shred of an accolade.  She slipped thru the cracks, HA! HA!, never having to display any real skill or contribution to society other than her looks and…ASS! Having an “ass” has now become the same as having a “talent”, in this self-indulgent and social media-obsessed culture.

I’m fxcking annoyed because of how Instagram decides to handle their content “restriction”.  The content I’m referring to in this case is Kim’s latest photos taken for Paper Magazine.  If you haven’t seen these images you’re either: A: LUCKY or B: LIVING UNDER A FXCKING MOUNTAIN!  That could quite possibly be Kim Kardashian’s backside!  Her photos weren’t anything more (or less) than her leaving absolutely NOTHING to our imagination.  Classic K. Kardashian Style….

Kim K's famous Paper photo.

I MEAN ARE YOU KITTEN ME RIGHT MEOW?? (Let the record show, I LOATHE using socially trending phrases, but it’s TOTALLY warranted in this case!) Let’s state the obvious here, she is DOUSED in Crisco. Right?! I mean, there’s NO way that’s extra virgin olive oil, we all know no one is a virgin in that family unit.  You may be moaning right now. Don’t you even turn on me for stating the obvious based on the facts that we’ve been dining on for 10 seasons from #KUWTK ! She has her ENTIRE crack out for us to enjoy.  A crack longer than a sleek highway, just with a much cheaper toll.  HEYOO!  The one thing people have been asking, is she standing inside of a trash bag? Is that a Hefty right now? I can recognize an extra tall kitchen bag from a mile away!  That’s the ONLY appropriate part of the photo!  The trash being put out in the trash. (Come on! It was an easy joke, calm down!)  Her hair-do also REALLY pisses me off for some reason! It reminds me of how I try to get my hair to look when I haven’t washed it for 8 days. I love that she’s looking over her should as if surprised there’s a camera in the room.  That’s how she got into this mess, with her face near a camera and a giant black meat cleaver.

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Na-nu. Na-nu. No more?!

12 Aug Photo taken by Mark Mann for Esquire Magazine

When I was a kid my father and I used to watch stand up specials and funny movies together.  We loved all the greats: Richard Pryor.  Joan Rivers. George Carlin.  Bill Hicks. Phyllis Diller. Robin Williams. It was how we bonded.  It was our thing.  We specifically loved Robin Williams. I grew up in awe of his boundless energy and seemingly limitless comedic brain and it was because of that I knew I wanted to be funny.  His comedy was some of the first I had ever seen and it made an everlasting impact on me.

For me, when I found out he passed away, It felt like an era had ended.  An era of true legends and boundary-pushers.  Comedians who challenged the injustices of the time and laid their hearts out on stage, and introduced us their darkest personal demons that they themselves mocked for our amusement. I literally sat on my toilet yesterday and sobbed for him.  Then I did the only thing that I knew would make me feel better, I called my father.

My father reading the paper at a convenience store in Gouverneur NY circa 2009.

My father reading the paper at a convenience store  near our summer camp in Gouverneur NY circa 2009.

Me: “Poppo?”

Pops: “Yea, babe?”

Me: “Robin Williams is dead.”

Pops: “I know, babe. It’s horrible.”

Me: “I’m just sad I never met him, now I never will. And I want you to know when I think of him I think of you and it makes me happy because those are our memories. And I love you.”

Pops: “You don’t have to worry about me, babe. I’m not going anywhere (laughing). I’m gonna stick around until I’m 90 and drive all you kids nuts.”

Me: “I love you.”

Pops: “I know you do, I love you, too.”


For me, though, death, like pain, is a motivator.  It’s life’s harshest reality check.  Reminding us of our fragile and mortal existence.  I never got to meet Robin Williams. He was on my list, though.   Williams was/is one of the reasons I got into comedy in the first place.  His physicality and unwavering ability to be both goofy and poignant, simultaneously, always left me feeling envious.  I wanted to do what he did.

Death is like a little reminder of our mortality and our ultimate fate. Wow! It’s rare to feel true sadness about about the death of someone you’ve never met.  I’m mourning a man I never knew. But, then again, he gave so much up on stage that you couldn’t help but to feel like you knew his darkest secrets.  I’m not going to focus on how he died.  There’s been some judgmental comments about suicide and it being a “selfish act”.  I won’t judge a person for succumbing to their own demons because I’ve seen it happen first hand in my family.  It so easy for someone to chop depression down to “an inconsiderate and selfish act” when you don’t understand just how deep it can permeate one’s soul.

I’m sad.  This was a big loss for the comedy community and for anyone who enjoyed his talents.  I went roller blading this morning, as I do every morning,  with my pit bull Carlin.  Instead of listening to my usual 90’s hip hop workout mix, I chose Robin Williams, “Live On Broadway”.  There’s a parking lot I always bring Carlin to because it’s big and open.  I arrived there just as his special started to play in my headphones.  I was laughing out loud along to one of my childhood hero’s stand up specials as I rollerbladed like an asshole in circles with dog named after my other childhood hero, George Carlin.  Carlin, my dog, responding to my jovial energy began to bark and jump up at me and it was then I felt tears running down my face.  I was laughing and crying at the same damn time.  I couldn’t stop myself.  I skated, crying and laughing like that until special had ended.  And I had a memory of my father and I laughing together and that’s an invaluable gift.  Thank you Mr. Williams.


Selfie taken by my longtime friend Juli Oliver of me,  rollerblading like an asshole, and my pit bull Carlin on Venice Beach, CA.

Selfie taken by my longtime friend Juli Oliver of me, rollerblading like an asshole, and my pit bull Carlin on Venice Beach, CA.  Yes, I’m wearing a hot pink fanny pack.


Robin Williams: Live On Broadway.

Robin Williams: Live On Broadway.  





Paging Doctor McDelicious.

9 May
Who wouldn't want this guy checking your puss, I mean pulse?

Who wouldn’t want this guy checking your puss, I mean pulse?

Every time I walk into a hospital I always anticipate seeing ‘THE HOT DOCTOR’.  He comes walking thru the triage waiting area with his stethoscope, thick head of hair and form-fitted scrubs that show off his hard man-ass and masculine wrists (I have a thing for manly wrists, they’re truly underrated!) and then he whisks me away to examine my injuries.  I know I’m not the only chick who thinks about this fantasy!  I blame shows like Grey’s Anatomy for the anticipation of Dr McSteamy, McDreamy or McUnmarried to be present at any and every hospital that I enter.  Everybody remembers Clooney from E.R. and his infamous “Cesar-cut”.  From that point on, every woman throbbed at the thought of having ‘the hot doc’ examine her with his “stethoscope”!

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19 Dec

mistletoe 1It’s the Christmas time and we all know what that means…egg nog, office parties and unwanted kissing underneath a bush with teeny white balls that smell like sour milk.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m a big mush for the holidays.  I love the lights, the music, even the slipper socks I seem to get every single year,( thanks Grandma!).  I love it ALL!  Except for one thing, the mistletoe.  This is the one tradition that I think should be reconsidered, or at the very least, banned from office and house parties unless you’ve invited John Stamos and/or Dylan McDermott.  Then I’ll swing upside down and naked from that little ball like I was the newest member of Cirque Du Soliel.  It’s just a dumb tradition that people use to make you feel obligated to participate in.  You become forced to smooch a douchebag in front of the whole room.  Well I’ve concocted 5 reasons NOT to hang the mistletoe this year, that maybe you can use as an excuse to get out of unwanted kisses. Continue reading

To Kegel, Or Not To Kegel?

16 Jul

To Kegel, Or Not To Kegel?

As a woman, we put a lot of pressure on ourselves to stay youthful.  We stress out about wrinkles, grey hair, and now we need to worry about sloppy puss?! Say no more- kegels to the rescue!!! A kegel involves contracting a muscle, the “pelvic floor”,  that you use to hold when you have to pee.  So basically its like a coochie-crunch! (Although men also contain this muscle, which opens up a whole other door of opportunities!)   And excuse me, um, pelvic FLOOR?? The last time I worked this hard on a floor, it was college and I was on my back doing “extra credit” for my gym teacher.  We’ve all heard about kegels from our friends but do any of us REALLY do them? And if we don’t will our vaginal space become wide open like a two-car garage?!  Even my spell check doesn’t acknowledge the existence of a kegel!  Supposedly, if you do these exercises regularly, you will have a Macy’s Day Parade of an orgasm! Well that alone gave me enough reason to ask the question, To Kegel, or Not To Kegel? Continue reading

Tequila, A love story!

11 Jun

One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, Amor!! 

        I haven’t had a HARD drink in a LONG time! Last week, I broke down and ended up drinking like a Vietnam War Veteran. I decided to put on a big girl bib and toss a few down the hatch.  Those of you who know me, know that ” a few” can turn into a world record for a woman my height and weight, hence why I’ve tried to not fall off the wagon this year. Did you know the term “on the wagon” is from the 1990’s and refers to a water wagon?!  PUSSIES!  What’s water got to do with being drunk?  Then again maybe the water back then was so busted it DID get you drunk!  Now I’m wishing for simpler times! YEE HAW!  

I do 2 things when I get drunk:

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Top 5 Ways To Put a Guy Into the “Friend Zone”

25 Apr

Top 5 ways to put a guy into the “Friend Zone”.

First of all, some of you may not even be familiar with the ” friend zone”. It’s a place that every man tries, with all his manly might, to avoid. It’s that place between a walk in the park, and a “roll in the hay”.  It’s a zone where a dick goes limp and the balls grow blue.  Sometimes, as women, we are FORCED to put a guy into a friend zone because we don’t want to hurt his feelings by telling him WE just aren’t THAT interested.  Being a chick myself, I can speak from experience and say, I’ve had to get creative in my attempts to put a dude into the friend’s zone.  Men, by nature, like a challenge so a girl needs to dig into her bag of tricks to try to make a guy just want to be your friend and not get a ticket to your ‘vagina monologue’.  Here’s a few of my tricks for getting a guy to realize he’s only going to be playing with his X-Box not yours.

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