Just a heads up

I'm seeing my grandparents for dinner tonight and have already decided that I am going to lie to them all night long. I'm going to lie like I have never lied before.

There will have been auditions for popular situation comedies like Two and a Half Men.

There will be a tall Jewish boyfriend who is getting his masters at UCLA in Environmental Engineering. Funny story: we met through a mutual friend who thought we would NEVER get along. Turns out we both enjoy Tapas restaurants and Zap Mama.

I will FINALLY be getting paid for doing improv.

My newly found love of cooking (especially kugel and brisket) will be second only to my love for volunteering with hospice and visiting the old, sick and dying (especially the really fucked-up-from-cancer ones).

I figure lying will go down smoother for everyone involved. My grandfather will have a vodka martini and talk about Obama. My grandmother will have Kahlua and tell me about the lecture series called "Brother Against Mishpacha: Jews in the Civil War" she attended at the community center and how the new rabbi at the synagogue is working out just fine. I'll tell them I saw Spring Awakening at the Ahmanson and it was quite racy and inappropriate but the songs were pretty.

They'll go home feeling full and pleased with themselves, watch Are You Being Served on PBS and go to bed.

I'll go home, get stoned, watch The Shield on Netflix and fart on the cat.

Shut up Jennie

At an Italian restaurant in Larchmont Village.

Me: Which soup do you recommend, the lentil or the minestrone?
Waitress (with a British accent and a herp on her lip): Umm, the minestrone.
Me: I'll have the lentil.
Friends at table: (apologetically laugh)
Me: Wait...oh no..no...I didn't choose the lentil because you recommended the minestrone...I trust your judgement...I do...I didn't mean to be rude...I just had already wanted the lentil and then at the last minute when you were taking the order I thought I would ask you your opinion but then ultimately decided to go with my first instinct which was the lentil...I never even really wanted the minestrone...I don't even know why I asked you..sorry..I'm sorry...I shouldn't even be bothering you...I should just order what I want in the first place...
Me: (out loud) Shut up Jennie.

Later. At Sprinkles (correction: CRUMBS. I got my fancy cupcake places mixed up) Cupcakes in Larchmont Village.
Me: Is there anything cool about the Oreo cupcake?
Guy behind the counter: Umm...what do...? Um, it has a fudge center.
Me: Yeah..that's what I meant...like some of the cupcakes have a surprise center with like fudge or peanut butter or jam or something...I mean the cupcake is already "cool", I mean it's a cupcake! I just wanted to know what was special about the Oreo one, but now I'm thinking I want the Black Forest one...so is there anything cool about that one?
Me: (in my head, then out loud) Shut up Jennie

When I was 12, I was really into The Animaniacs and floral cotton pants.

This girl is cooler than I will ever be and she is only 12. She's like the real life Jenny from Gossip Girl. Someone find her and bring her to me.

http://tavi-thenewgirlintown.blogspot.com/

Also, I consider puzzles a fun extra-curricular activity. No joke.

I just watched this. Without sound. At my desk at work.

I teared up.



Look for me in the Lladro Figurine section of Macy's. I'm the one wearing the cashmere Talbots sweater with a copy of "7 People You Will Meet In Heaven" in the purse that my sister gave me when I reached my goal weight.

Drop It Like It's Hoff

My friend recently told me she had a "very hot" sex dream with celebrity Orlando Bloom. Orlando Bloom is her favorite celebrity and she often has "very hot" sex dreams involving him.

Discussing this made me think about my "very hot" celebrity sex dreams. I've only had two that I can remember. Maybe the ones I can't remember involved sexy things like masquerade balls or moonlit beaches, but these do not:

(These are actual real dreams that I really actually had)


- David Hasselhoff and I are a married couple living in the suburbs. We have a couple of kids who play soccer and I am a stay at home mom. Unfortunately, the "fire" or "romance" has gone out of our marriage and I feel that it is my duty to bring it back so that we don't get divorced like so many of our fellow suburbanite couple friends have recently done. I decide to go to a lingerie store with my jolly friend Judy to try and spice up our time in the bedroom. I have never bought sexy lingerie (I think I'm a real prude) so I am very nervous but Judy convinces me this will be a very good thing. I suspect she has recently watched an episode of Oprah on this very topic. I buy the lingerie, go home, set the mood in the bedroom (this probably involved turning down the floral bed sheets and lighting the new Glade scented oil candle I just bought) and wait for the Hoff to return home. When he enters the bedroom, I awkwardly display my lingerie and we have awkward, quick, missonary sex. I don't think it was pleasant for anyone involved and my feeling at the end of the dream is that we will end up staying together for the sake of the children. Then I wake up.



-I am Snoop Dogg's girlfriend. We're in a truck outside of his pot dealers house in a very sketchy part of LA. Enough said. I woke up feeling gross.

Jesus Cat

This is my roommate's cat. Her name is Jesus. Because my roommate and I are best friends and enmeshed in each others lives to the point of pretty much being married without the sex part, we call her "our cat". I consider myself her cat Aunt. Or "Cant". Jesus is pretty fat and lazy (in a good way).

Here are three things I like to do with her:

1) Snuggle. Jesus is not the type of cat to say no to a snuggle session. The only times she does not want to snuggle are when she is very angry at you for poking her (see below), or not letting her go outside. Jesus is an indoor cat and there are many dangers that lie in the out of doors for indoor cats (i.e. fast cars, other cats and stupid hipster catnapping neighbors). I try to tell her that indoor activities like watching reruns of "Everybody Loves Raymond" and making delicious turkey sandwiches can also be fun, but she does not want to listen. She just wants to lie in the outside dirt and blink her eyes at the sun.

2) Poke. Sometimes, while she is lying comfortably in her soft cat bed, it's fun to poke Jesus in her fat paunchy stomach with various objects (pens, mail, your finger). If you do this for a long enough time, she will get very angry and bite/scratch/hiss at you. When she retaliates in this way, even though I was the one who provoked her, I get very angry and yell at her "You suck!". Then I poke her again for good measure and to let her know who's boss. A psychologist might say that we have a "dysfunctional relationship".

(Trying to snuggle after a poking session as a way of apologizing for all the poking will usually not work).

3) Dutch Oven. This involves sitting next to or on top of Jesus, putting a blanket over the both of us and farting. She never moves, which makes me think she likes the smell of fart.

Question of the Day

Why do race horses need little men (jockeys) to ride on them during races? Why can't the horses just run around the track by themselves? I think it might be more fun for the horses if they were allowed to do it on their own.

Mrs. Pillyworth

Mrs. Pillyworth the bag lady was all out of sorts. Under the cover of night, ruthless thieves had pillaged her park bench on Wackadoo Boulevard and stolen her most prized possession. “Bloody hell.” she bellowed softly to no one in particular whilst quietly relieving herself.

(You see, Mrs. Pillyworth suffers like that of any other ill-fated lady drowning her sorrows in the bottom of a bottle; from a sad case of the broken bladder and a touch of the crazy).

Mrs. Pillyworth was none too jazzed about this unfortunate situation. Grunting loudly, she busied herself tidying up the beer bottles and bits of string strewn about the grass that had fallen out of her shopping cart during the raid. Mrs. Pillyworth no more enjoyed a mystery than she favored a routine chicken broth enema, but at least a mystery involved interviews and clues.

Lying down amongst the wreckage, Mrs. Pillyworth rummaged through her pockets and brought out the last of the hot dog she had found outside of Morty’s PINBALL Arcade on Giddyup Drive. She ate the dog, and tossed the bun to her best friend; Rockefeller the Pigeon.

(You see, Mrs. Pillyworth had recently read a discarded book by one: Dr. Atkins. Mrs. Pillyworth figured she was not getting any younger and since bikini season was approaching, she thought it wise to heed the doctor’s sage advice.)

Suddenly recalling the pillaged prized possession , Mrs. Pillyworth began to weep uncontrollably.

(You see, this was no ordinary keepsake. One short year ago, Mrs. Pillyworth had a wild love affair with a chap by the name of Mr. Boddingsley who lived in a cardboard box on the north side of Gadzooks Avenue. Mr. Boddingsley’s defining features were his lack of pinky fingers, a nose like a manatee and a healthy obsession with T.S. Eliot. Oh, how Mrs. Pillyworth loved to pinch his nose and lovingly title it Alfred J. Prufrock! One sad spring day, Mr. Boddingsley mysteriously disappeared leaving only an envelope addressed to Mrs. Pillyworth at their favorite romantic rendezvous; the dumpster of the nearest Sizzler on Pina Colada Circle. Inside the envelope lay one shiny key attached to a keychain inscribed with the words: “one tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor”. From that day forward, Mrs. Pillyworth would cling furtively to that key hoping to one day unlock its secret)

Tired, wet and lovesick, Mrs. Pillyworth hoisted herself off the ground and grudgingly set out across the park in search of her first possible eyewitness of the raid: Madam LaTigre who owned the local titty bar on Foofoo Way, and whose dark brown eyes could often see the misdeeds of others…

Some words and phrases that, if said, will make me think you are a very smart person

- Albeit
- By and large
- Obsequious
- Would you like some more duck l'orange?
- Hamburg is beautiful at this time of year.
- Meat packing district
- Some jellyfish do not have tentacles at all
- Arianna Huffington