“You know, I don’t believe in religion, or the hereafter. Not at all. I discussed the subject with Chico and Harpo a couple of years before they died. They said they’d get in touch with me if there were a hereafter. But you know what? I never heard a word. Not a goddamn word.” — Julius Henry “Groucho” Marx
A couple of years ago, I was at a dinner party — and I was lucky enough to be seated next to the hugely talented and adorable writer and actor, Tara Karsian…who is one of the funniest goddamned woman I have ever known. Not like a silly, giddy, bonk herself over the head with a bowling pin sort of funny — I am talking a SHUT YOUR SHIT THE FUCK DOWN WITH AN ICE-COLD DEAD-PAN GRANITE FACE FUNNY. She is COMPLETELY ON TRACK.
At any rate, about halfway through this posh, candlelit, star-studded affair, Miss Tara wanted to check her phone to see if she’d gotten any calls, so she slyly opened her purse under the table and checked it without actually removing it from her bag, in an attempt to keep the escaping light to a minimum. Sitting next to her, I totally noticed what she was doing and called her shit out on it, along with, of course, congratulating her on inventing such a clever subterfuge. We belly laughed out loud and decided that henceforth, this covert move would officially be known as “A VINCENT VEGA.”
“From birth to 18, a girl needs good parents. From 18 to 35, she needs good looks. From 35 to 55, good personality. From 55 on, she needs good cash. I’m saving my money.” — Miss Sophie Tucker (Who was, for the record, one of my most powerful and profound influences and inspirations. Sophie was SOME BROAD.)
Hollywood FUCKED Rule #2: I had two AWESOME, HILARIOUS old friends — who, sadly, both recently passed away — who together ran a successful casting agency since the 70s. A few years ago, I sat in on a casting session with them for a project I was working on. As the endless line of hopeful young women passed through the room, I quickly became aware of the fact that they almost looked like children to me. I said this to my friend and he laughed bitterly and said:
“Honey, that’s how they want ’em now — so that’s how we serve ’em up. It ain’t about her IQ…it’s about her FQ. In this fucking town, if a woman’s over 30, she may as well be a HUNDRED.”
AND I RAGE.
Hollywood FUCKED Rule #1: An actress’ job is NOT to act. Acting is secondary to her main job — which is TO NOT EAT.
Inane Muff Fact #994: Whenever I attend the wedding of anyone under the age of 30, I put on one of my fanciest black dresses and vintage brooches, I bring an AWESOME gift I know the couple will adore, I celebrate and make merry with all the other cherished assembled guests, I toast to the young couple’s happiness — and in my head, I silently tally up how many years (or months) until they separate and divorce…an eventuality which is, of course, a mathematical certainty.
PS) I would LOVE to murder these motherfuckers.
#therealironyisnotherblueeyeshadownorhismuttonchopsideburnsbutthefactthattheywillbedivorcedintwofuckingyears
When I was a little girl growing up in Fresno, California, I would rush home everyday after school so I could watch, “Match Game.” The delightfully unholy union of these two FABULOUS, HILARIOUS people was why. And even though I didn’t quite understand the full dynamic of what “THIS” was…I already knew that THIS is what I wanted, more than anything else in the world — and now I am lucky enough to have it.
THIS is EVERYTHING to me.
1. What time did you get up this morning?
7 cockeatin’ 30. I had to squirt the ol’ clam, as well as the clam of a tiny chihuahua, and we just couldn’t wait. It was a medical emergency. Also, I had to get my fatass up because we are in the midst of THE HORROR OF MOVING. So much to do!
2. Diamonds or pearls?
BOTH. I’m nothing short of a dirty, plundering, acquisitive whore who enjoys nothing more than a lazy afternoon spent guzzling absinthe, reading Henry Miller, stroking my crab ladder, and plucking the rings from the fingers of the dead. Not really. I was just kidding! I loathe absinthe and the entire horseshit absinthe culture! But truthfully, I like jewels and stones and beads and trinkets and treasures and doo-dads and gew-gaws and shiny baubles of all kinds, though their actual monetary or cultural value means very little to me; it’s their sparkle and lustre that catches my cold eye. My husband calls me a highly distractable kitty-kat in regards to such things and thinks I must’ve been of the race of dwarves or hobbits in my previous life. Or a pirate, even. And besides that, I positively LIVE to “clutch my pearls” and act faux shocked at the scandalous behavior of others…so it would be nice to actually have something stranded and nacreous there to clutch aside from merely fat clavicle or a shameless chain of hickeys.
3. What was the last film you saw, either at the cinema or at home?
“Midnight in Paris” — and just like that…it is in my Top 25 films of all time. I actually wanted to CLIMB INSIDE OF THAT MOVIE AND SPEND THE REST OF MY GODDAMNED LIFE THERE.
4. What is your current favorite TV Show?
Antiques Roadshow. Downton Abbey. Game of Thrones.
5. What do you usually have for breakfast?
Usually just really good fucking coffee (I insist on really good fucking coffee) and the still-beating hearts of those who would dare attempt to subdue me.
6. What is your middle name?
Pomeline.
7. Favorite cuisines?
Korean, Ethiopian, Mediterranean.
8. What foods do you dislike?
Very, very few — but prominent on that list are definitely slimy okra, meat, and the humble lychee (which smells entirely too much like LOAD for my liking, thank you very much.)
9. Where were you born?
Rochester, New York.
10. What is your favorite CD at the moment?
“The Spoken Word: The Poems of Ted Hughes” is on HEAVY, OBSESSED, HYPNOTIC, AROUSED, REGRETFUL rotation right now. Also, “An Anthology of Big Band Swing, 1930-1955”. It’s included in the group of music that I frequently write to, and listening to it causes my heart to race and my to pulse quicken…and makes me feel connected to all the writers who have come and gone before me. You hear that, Mr. Benchley?
11. What kind of car are you driving?
A ruby red Honda CRV that my family and friends affectionately refer to as “The Crazy Rodent Vehicle” (CRV? Get it?) because my nickname around these parts is “Mouse”. Yes, my husband and my children call me Mousie Lou.
12. Favorite sandwich?
Well, before I went totally vegetarian, it was a corned beef Reuben on rye…with horseradish. At Canter’s. Sitting one table over from Rodney Bingenheimer and his OUTRAGEOUS rooster cut and saturnine countenance. Now…I don’t really eat sandwiches…so my answer is vegetable soup.
13. What characteristic do you despise?
I quickly and deftly recoil in disgust from undignified personal drama in any form — cause a scene in public and watch how fast I exit stage left in disdain. I also detest people who are ungenerous with their praise. Creative people who are made small and threatened by the talent of other creative people. People who don’t get that there is more than room enough at the table for all those who have the talent, drive, and desire to be there. But worse than that, if you dare commit the cardinal sin of being uninteresting…FUCK OFF, LADY.
14. What is your favorite clothing?
Black dresses, cashmere sweater sets, cardigans, and homely, interesting thrift store dresses from the late 50′s and early 60′s — and my ancient Bass penny loafers. Think demented debutante. Oh, and BLACK DROP-BALL EARRINGS and EXTRAORDINARY VINTAGE BROOCHES. Always always always with the earrings and the brooches. My gusband, Jackie Beat, has actually bestowed upon me the official royal styling of, “Our Lady of The Brooches.”
15. If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation where would you go?
The ancient Land of (SOME OF) My Pipples: SPAIN.
16. What color is your bathroom?
Oh, christ. Fuck off. Who cares. Next question.
17. Favorite brand of clothing?
I adore Brooks Brothers — thrifted, of course. Gimme old thrashed soft pink buttondown shirts, ancient cableknit sweaters, and some of them ol’ time New England coats with horn-toggle closures, and I’ll most likely blow you for the difference, friend. And, if listing my favorite designers counts for anything…I like Betsey Johnson, Lilly Pulitzer, Calvin Klein, and Ralph Lauren. I think I must’ve been a preppie pilgrim DAR club-lady in another life. A really drunken, chain-smoking, foul-mouthed one with questionable moral fiber, of course. Think Anne Sexton.
18. Where would you retire?
Truth be told, even though I would giddily skip-kick the wall-plug outta my own Mother’s life support system to live out my days in Spain…I’ll probably end up in a cozy beach house in Coronado or Malibu surrounded by grandbabies and friends — which sounds practically perfect in every way to me. I plan on being the world’s most KICKIN’ granny. Oh and to address your actual question: I WILL NEVER ACTUALLY RETIRE. I plan on typing my nonsense and giggling like a madman until the very moment I feed the tree.
19. What was your most memorable birthday?
After about the age of 13, I realized that I don’t really give a rat’s ass about my actual birthday (in my mind, EVERYDAY is my birthday and made to be filled with fun!) — so I don’t really have an answer to that query. In other words, I need extravagant birthday festivities held in my honor…like Kim Kardashian needs her pussy stretched.
20. Are you married?
Blissfully so, yes.
21. Always wear your seat belt?
Of course. It looks adorable with my vintage jewelry!
22. Ever been in a car accident?
Only one — quite literally on the way home from the DMV after getting my very first drivers license.
23. Favorite sport to watch?
Baseball, both major and minor league; oh, and if you were wondering, I like the Yankees and The Cubs. I’m nothing if not an ol’ school purist.
24. Goal you have for yourself?
Books, films, travel, knitting, and eternal life.
25. What are your hobbies?
Books, films, travel, knitting, and eternal life.
26. When is your Anniversary?
With my husband, Gregory: June 16th (Bloomsday!). With my gusband, Jackie Beat: May 13th (Bea Arthur’s birthday!)
27. Are you a morning person or a night person?
Either.
28. What is your shoe size?
7, 7 1/2, sometimes an 8 — depending on how fat I am. For the record: I currently wear an 8.
29. Any pets?
A divine black and white three year old boss chihuahua — Pearlie Mae — who is my funny, furry, adorable, delightfully Frito-smelling REASON FOR LIVING. She sleeps curled up around my gunt and SHE IS MY LITTLE BABY.
30. Any new and exciting news you’d like to share with us?
Yes. Your mother’s a whore.
31. What did you want to be when you were little?
A hostess on The Storybook Canal Boats in Disneyland. In fact, it’s still my dream — and I’ll do it, too. Think I won’t?
32. What are you today?
Writer, Mother, Libertine, Tart.
33. What is your favorite candy?
Green apple Jolly Ranchers — but thanks to a touch of the sugar diabeetus, no can do no mo.
34. What is your favorite flower?
Violets.
35. What is a day on the calendar you are looking forward to?
June 6th at 6 a.m. He is risen!
36. Anyone special in your life of the opposite sex?
I have LOTS of special boys in my life! My son, Hunter…my father, Tom…my Husband, Gregory…my Gusband (GAY husband), Jackie Beat…my Frusband (Fresno Husband), Mark Fimbres…my writing partner and BFF, Doug Prochilo…my tender sodomite lovers, Mario Diaz and Travis Walck…and many, many others. I adore all my boys — they make my life brilliant and beautiful and BUTCH.
My Fellow Countrymen and Countrywomen: What a grand, glorious, and festive week this is! Happy 10th Anniversary of the US Invasion of Iraq!…the cause of which is the greatest, most expensive, most despicable, most murderous, most malfeasant, most EVIL LIE ever perpetrated on the American people by its own government.
Make no mistake…we have lost a brace of kinsmen.
All are punish’d…
but, if there is indeed a god, hopefully SOME MOTHERFUCKERS shall be more punish’d than others.
A man died and went to heaven. As he stood in front of St. Peter at the Pearly Gates, he saw a huge wall of clocks behind him.
He asked, “What are all those clocks?”
St. Peter answered, “Those are Lie-Clocks. Everyone on Earth has a Lie-Clock. Every time you lie, the hands on your clock will move.”
“Oh,” said the man, “whose clock is that?”
“That’s Mister Rogers’ clock. The hands have never moved, indicating that in his entire life, he never told a lie.”
“Incredible,” said the man. “And whose clock is that one?”
St. Peter responded, “That’s Abraham Lincoln’s clock. The hands have moved twice, telling us that Abe told only two lies in his entire life.”
“And where’s Dick Cheney’s clock?” asked the man.
“Oh, Dick Cheney’s clock is in Jesus’ office. He’s using it as a ceiling fan.”
“I have lived with the prospect of an early death for the last 49 years. I’m not afraid of death, but I’m in no hurry to die. I have so much I want to do first. I regard the brain as a computer which will stop working when its components fail. There is no heaven or afterlife for broken down computers; that is a fairy story for people afraid of the dark.” – British Physicist Stephen Hawking, pictured here on his 65th birthday…hovering in the blessed liberation of zero gravity
muffy bolding 