Jodi Young

I want to get married, again

2008-11-20T09:34:00.000-08:00

Not that I have been married - my desire to get married has been renewed. Oh, no, I am not in love, I thought I was recently but it just turned out to be a case of Barack Obama is President euphoria gone wild! (BTW, has Steven Baldwin left the country as he promised (see below)?)

Anyhoozle - here's my reason. I just saw this cure for a narcissist who has failed to become famous - pencils made of one's remains! The lucky bastard to whom you bequeath these pencils, embossed with your name, come in a box that is also the sharpener so that when the pencils are all finished the box becomes a decorative urn! Awesome!

Now accepting marriage proposals. You must be in shape, handsome, not too issue-laden and, of course, a pencil user!

The best reason to vote for Barack Obama, by far!

2008-07-02T08:56:00.000-07:00

We are in a recession. We need to get the heck outta OCCUPYING Iraq. We need to rescue & protect the U.S. Constitution. 3-4 Supreme Court Judges will most likely retire and need to be replaced by judges who are not crazy.

But even taking alllllllll of that into consideration, the bestbestbestbestbestbestBEST reason I have come across thus far is...

if, excuse me, when Barack Obama is elected President, Steven Baldwin will leave the country! He's the ugly, unfunny and super-stupid Baldwin Brother who took a perfectly self-destructive cocaine addiction and traded it in for 'Kristianity' - like 'Christianity', only too dogmatic to include likes of Jesus Christ himself, even!

Good. Leave, Steven. Go (back) and hand out bibles in Iraq with burned DVDs of "Bio Dome".

Issues, schmissues...

2008-05-15T20:13:00.000-07:00

No!

YES!!!

Altoona Bowling Ball Speaks Out

2008-04-30T06:49:00.000-07:00

The Bowling Ball used by Presidential Candidate, Senator Barack Obama, says that Barack Obama misrepresented its ability to 'bowl strikes'. After the media mercilously mocked its repeated forays into the gutter, as if this were something under its control, the Altoona Bowling Ball demanded an hour with Bill Moyer, lunch with Jon Stewart, inexplicably to party with Lindsey Lohan and a week long press conference at the National Press Club, with only green M&M's in its dressing room. The Altoona Bowling Ball, "Al", was most upset by the onslaught of Youtube clips that were condensed down to specifically make it look like a Nerf ball. One in particular, labelled "OBAMA BOWLS LIKE A LITTLE GIRL" doesn't even show the actual Little Girl who was instrumental in Sen. Obama's misrepresentation of its "awesome pin punking prowess" says Al. The outraged, Bowling Ball asked, "Where are the videos of me making the pins my bitches?" Moreover, the Bowling Ball is embarrassed by photos of it 'topless' with the Senator's fingers inserted into its holes (Al admits it did not fully understand the signed release). When asked about its patriotism, Al the Bowling Ball retorted, "Dick Cheney never went to any alley!" Full disclosure, Al the Bowling Ball has said it owes the Clintons a lot, since people bowled more in the 90's, whereas, Sen. Obama was out engaging in elitist basketball.

Everyone's gone Hollywood!

2008-02-11T12:02:00.000-08:00

(image removed)

When I hear of dangerous gangs careening through the streets, selling useless crap and shooting, I think, "Paparazzi!". When I hear of Los Angeles, trendsetters and shooting I think, "Bloods and/or Crips". And so does someone else becuz we now have Bloods and/or Crips Papparazzi. And kudos. One photo of Britney vaj is undoubtedly worth more than a truckload of crack and not illegal, but probably just as demoralizing for our society.

Leave OJ alone!

2008-01-17T07:56:00.000-08:00

At the risk of sounding like a YouTube jr. Queen insta-hit, "Leave OJ alone!"

Last night, at the top of the Yahoo News (News?!!!), was that video of some Judge Judy Knock-off "reaming" OJ for, idunno, removing the mattress tag or something else that really fucking matters. A few items down the page was the headline of mobster, killer of 20, turned gov't witness. Did his judge call him arrogant? No, I guess after killing 20 other humans for a living, setting up a nice hedge fund from that hit-moola for your wife, and various mistresses (mistressi?) & your kids' trust funds, then deciding it's time to rat out your "co-workers", makes you almost cuddly and "60-minutes" bookable. Heck, throw in confessions to a shrink, and you've got fodder for Emmy Award winning entertainment! Badabing.

Even zanier, I've heard Hitler and OJ used in the same reference. Really? Hitler, OJ...same thing? ONE dyed-blonde, coked-out homewrecker is a Holocaust? Wow. She was Uber-aryan.

While OJ is in Fla, he should join one of those anti-Castro, private army social clubs, to make some friends and get the law off his back. Nevermind the economic prosperity of Cuban Americans that living here for more than 50 years hath wrought, these people are exiles!!! While other Floridians golf, they love to unwind at remote encampments with combat formations or AK-47 target practice, in between sipping mojitos and plotting the overthrow of Cuba, undisturbed by Homeland Security. Still spry OJ could help the next sneak attack on tourist locales near Havana. They really are different from terrorists like al-Quaida because, well, they vote Republican.

Soooo...If OJ did it or if he didn't, guilty or not guilty...aquitted! Now, leave OJ alone.

Freaky Friday

2007-11-30T07:56:00.000-08:00

Take two wildly divergent concepts, crash them together and run with all your might into the nearest wall. If you survive, that dizziness is the tingle of your new faith strangling your common sense.

1. The Christian Goths -. Entrance into Heaven and Hell. Afterlife covered.

2. The Black KKK - seriously, pure genius.

3. Geri Halliwell. Ginger? No. Jehovah's Witness Spice.

UPDATE: Come see ME @ Comix Tuesday, December 11th @ 7 pm!!!

Getting a Career 2.0

2007-11-28T08:17:00.000-08:00

Hey, ya'll -

It just occurred to me that I still haven't got a career and I should do that before I reach retirement age. Maybe my first step in attaining that goal should be to step up my sense of urgency...and, I will...really, really soon.

As in, I'm performing sometime in December. Yeah, that's right, sometime. We thought about an exact date but opted for the surprise approach - like a fire drill & everyone turns out for those, right? So keep every day open so you can drop everything and take the nearest exit to COMIX New York and see me. What? It's not like this is a busy time of the year for anybody.

In the meantime, after reading about this guy & his bike, my joke with my boyfriend (semi-pro bike racer) about his bike being the "other woman" has suddenly become very creepy. Check this out - bike guy

James Watson - No Rocket Scientist!

2007-10-19T07:36:00.000-07:00

However, my father was! My dad, a genius, said some provocative things in his time, but to my mother, which lead to seven kids (baum shikky baum baum...). Actually, my father, an organic chemist, did despise one group and would rage, fists in air, "While we scientists create, engineers make things practical!" That would have caused some controversy, had anyone but other nerds understood it.

Then there are old jackasses like James Watson. The 79 year old, who shared Nobel Prize in '62 for mapping DNA, decided that isn't how he'd like to be remembered. No, he'd prefer it if we'd scrap that egghead image and replace it with an egghead covered by a klan hood. Now we know that Grand Wizard Watson's efforts on the DNA project was driven by trying to locate that dumb, lazy, rythymic black chromosome.

You know, it would be nice if I could wake up one morning & not have hear how yet another white person believes, by no fault of my own, I'm inferior. It's just boring. Speaking of boring... Jackass Watson spoke his insites while promoting his book, "Avoid Boring People: Lessons From a Life in Science”. The publisher changed it from the original, "Avoid Black People: They're stupid".

I think it's time we start referring to "Wilkins & Crick" and let this dork be the one dropped off when speaking of DNA. By the way, Rebel Flag Watson is baffled as to why his remarks upset people - he's certain the blacks didn't understand his words, as they weren't set to the hip-hop, so what's the hub-bub?

Over at the Justice Department's Civil Rights Division, in the US, in this century, John Tanner, top ranking VOTING RIGHTS OFFICIAL, said, "black people don't live to be elderly" and those alive to vote do so "later in the day than white people" (to explain the long lines in Ohio '04 - not that there was one machine per 1000 in Black districts as opposed to the 1:100 ratio in white districts), based on nothing but his own walnut-sized brain observations.

The white kids in Jena, Louisiana, who hung the noose from a tree, said they did it as a prank. So all of those lynched black people just can't take a joke, over-reacted and died, is that it?

Michael Richards, Kramer, gets the joke - remember his punchline of a lynching with the addition of sticking a fork in the ass? Yes, that one still makes me giggle.

Almost famous...

2007-09-19T11:32:00.001-07:00

For those of you who aren't diehard fans of CBS' "The Early Show", and for everyone hungry for "more Jodi!" check out the link & if you're in NYC, come for a spin!

"Getting Over A Break-Up"

http://www.cbsnews.com/sections/i_video/main500251.shtml?id=3277559n

CBS News Online

Bring it on! Your seed, I mean.

2007-09-17T06:43:00.000-07:00

At 43, I am now completely ready to be a mother! Well beyond any biological clock alarms or earmarking my bonus for fertility juice as opposed to blowing it on a vacation and an iPhone, I have incontrovertible proof that I can now raise a human.

This morning, as I walked through the subway turnstile and towards the 6-train, a group of teen girls (the nastiest form of human to walk the earth!), walking shoulder-to-shoulder, oblivious to morning rush crowding, unwilling to turn sideways so that people could pass by, possibly due to their perpetual need to taunt or the binding jeans made even more constricting by belts pulled to the final hole causing the chub to puff out both above and below it, swiped passed me. The one on the end got a healthy whack from the gigantic book I was hauling in my messenger-style bag as it swung back from her knocking it from my side in the first place. She, not surprisingly, made as though she were clubbed like a baby seal and hollered, "OW! Watch where you goin' bitch!" and immediately began that maniacal teenage giggling. Quicker than reflex, the words were out of my mouth, "I will spank your foul-mouthed little butt!" and I harumphed my way down to the track level.

As I mused how dirty that could be construed by pervs within earshot, the metrosexual guy next to me nodded approvingly, which I interpretted as "I now pronounce you ready to mother."

Dissidence and Discounts!

2007-08-15T07:37:00.000-07:00

Hey, news to all CEO's: if you want to get my attention, blast The System and offer me discounts off your already discounted stock!

That's what Patrick M. Byrne, CEO of Overstock.com did. In his post, he rips the SEC and warns of an impending stockmarket castastrophe in a vernacular that even the financially-retarded (me!) can understand. Okay, I did for a sec, then lost it again, but, my point is...read the blog, learn something about how the US economy is circling the drain, then get 10% off a purchase to brighten your spirits! Hey, you can't take it with you, right? I got some of those 'skinny' jeans 'cuz I'll actually look good in them standing in the soup line after the crash. Charleston, anyone?

"Zed's dead, baby"

2007-08-06T08:53:00.000-07:00

Dunno if "Zed's" his name, but Ving Rhames' dogs got medieval on his ass! The man was the caretaker of the 4 dogs, mastiffs, for 2 years, was found mauled on the front lawn. My sister has a mastiff, Simon, who is gigantic and who'd probably find a fully-grown male a 'snack' without having to share with 3 compadres - but he won't enter a room if a broom is placed across the doorway. She'd better buy more brooms.

"Age of Love" Yeah - I watched it

2007-06-26T08:54:00.000-07:00

Okay, fine, whatever. That Mark Philippoussis guy from the new twist on how to stir up feelings of inadquacy in the female, "Age of Love" seems like a nice person, but he's on my list. Why? The first one booted from the 20-somethings was the black chick. He said, "I don't see myself becoming more attracted to you as time goes on" in spite of having gone on about how gorgeous she was when he first saw her, walking toward him. Those nappy edges got in focus and withered his mojo? And the first one booted from the 40-somethings got the "just friends" blow-off was named "Jodie"! Aaargh! Clearly, me being a 42-yr-old, black Jodi would have made him strike a Edvuard Munch pose! Well, I just so happen to think Austrailian accents are hideous, so there! I have no recourse but to post this romance-novel, big-hair photo and to bitterly blog against this obvious dig at me. For the record, the back of his head is flat.

Lohan & Paris, now GW & Putin - Frenemies, like yeh!

2007-06-09T20:33:00.000-07:00

Putin calls out the Drunk Monkey - the Drunk Monkey responds with nukes - Putin suggests putting the missiles in Iraq & Voila! Yet another reason to continue the occupation and a tribute to the 50's, to boot; a Cold War Revival! World Domination Theatre concludes its latest act! I want a soundtrack on my desk by Thursday...I'm looking at you Andrew Lloyd Weber!

Jail isn't fun - who knew?

2007-06-08T14:33:00.000-07:00

Paris "I'm sooooo rich, I look down on the Walmart Family" Hilton has never looked more...well, hot. She was released against the sentencing Judge's ruling by Sheriff "Woody", we'll call him, due to an unspecified medical issue that involved a psychiatrist's stamp of approval. Hmmm, maybe a tape of Paris calling the designers from FUBU the "N-word" circluated amongst General Popuation (not as forgiving as Nicole "sure-you're-not-black" Richie) and lead to her 'mental anguish'? Happy Schadenfreude, ya'll!

All vitamins are not created equal.

2007-04-18T08:25:00.000-07:00

Race is not a problem...unless you're an Asian woman looking for vitamins.

New from "GenSpec" the holistic division of the Josef Mengele Institute, a line of vitamins and minerals for caucasian women, mujeres hispanicas and African American women based on vaginas, bigotry and market trends and none of that science-y stuff. It is still unclear what bi, tri, or multi-racial chicks should take (a multi-vite?), so to be on the safe side, the Company recommends buying all applicable vitamins and chopping them up according to your ancestry. This makes total sense because it is soooo totally true that, for example, black Americans in Chicago have the exact-same physiological needs as a black person in Addis Abeba or a black person in Rio de Janeiro. Ever notice how we all seem to know each other? It's because we are exactly the same.

Surge Protection

2007-01-31T21:12:00.000-08:00

I went to the anti-surge demo in January with my Big Brother, Bradd and Karrie, his girlfriend & mine, but I mean it in the BFF-way, not the Oprah/Gayle nebulous-way. I love rallies - even if they are only a pacifist's pacifier.

To the right is my hands down favourite sign!!!Cuntie Rice might not have committed an actual crime, but what the heck? Jail them all!

Man up, Wolf!

2007-01-26T07:34:00.000-08:00

Did you see Wolf Blitzer crumble into dust during his interview with Dick? I don't see why; it's not like Dick would shoot him in the face or anything.

Have you noticed how people's names can either be ironic, exact or slightly-off from the actual person?

Slightly-off names are hard to remember causing the Brain Teflon Effect; they just slide off and won't stick. You know, like the guy named 'Chris' who really looks like a 'Bob'? Not a huge difference, but it'll still have you sweating each time you two are alone on the elevator together.

The ironic ones are like half-giant, angry girls named 'Precious' (I'm still smarting from a 6th grade smackdown!) and, well, 'Wolf Blitzer' - sounds like a reporter who can blast through an obstinant guest like a tank through a daisy patch, right? But, we see ( and can see over and over and over on-line) the his name should be 'Poodle PeePants'.

Then there are those names of sheer exactitude. 'Dick' Cheney...no explanation needed there. I heard it's short for 'RobbingTaxpayer'sBlindthroughHalliburton'sNoBidContracts'. My favourite is the name of the couple who challenged the miscegenation law against their getting married promisingly named "Loving".

I'm named after a contestant on "Jeopardy!". I should find out if she won.

The New Messiah is a Chimp!

2007-01-19T08:05:00.000-08:00

Well, what would you call a baby chimp born in a place populated by chimpanzee females and eunuchs? Not only is the new messiah a chimp, he’s a girl! A girl named, most piously, Tracy. I’ve long suspected that this would happen; that if we humans didn't get our shit together, the goddess would replace us with a species who not only have got their shit together, but pack it tightly, then hurl it in a crystal clear act of derision. You never see a chimp going around wondering if they've offended someone. Nope, fecal splattering says it all.

Okay, not a miracle birth, simmer down Bible Belt. However, until now, it was thought that all of the males were sterilized at Chimp Haven - a rest home for retired research chimps. Theresa, a wild-born chimp in her late 40's, proved the silly humans wrong when she chose to become a Single Mother by Choice. During her career, she gave birth 10 times; all over 13 years ago. However, her babies were taken from her and are now living at either a research facility chain-smoking or being injected with S.A.R.S. or elsewhere entertaining Naked Apes. Slightly saddened as she pondered her twilight years alone, she watched the males run in packs, shunning commitment and chasing after the newly-arrived, younger females, until...she overheard the unidentified Stud Chimp thumping his chest and bragging about how an undercover P.E.T.A.-member researcher faked his sterilization. Remembering skills she observed, the determined Theresa waited until one of Stud Chimp’s numerous daily wanks and gathered the up the goods in a turkey baster.

Being a middle-aged female, she was virtually invisible, making it no great feat to hide her pregnancy. No one noticed until she showed up one day with her baby girl. No Lamaze, no ingesting extra quantities of folic acid, no ice-cold stirrups; just quietly excused herself and boom! BABY!

While the humans at Chimp Haven launch a Maury Povich Baby-Daddy investigation, Theresa and Tracy look on and smile contentedly.

Bill Gates to Adopt Chad - the country!

2006-11-02T08:01:00.000-08:00

Not to be outdone by the likes of Madonna or Angelina (who recently discovered that she can actually mine children from her own loins), Bill Gates is going through with his plans to adopt the entire African nation of Chad!

These plans haven't erupted in controversy, as did the Madonna-Malawi affair which alleged the pop star was doing so only to feed her insatiable ego, with no regard for the culture shock a black child might experience from developing a sense of entitlement meant strictly for whites. Sources posed no one has balked because no one believes there's a country in Africa named Chad.

Fellow kabillionare, Warren Buffet, remarked, "Billy's such a cut-up, you never really know if he's joking when he says things like, 'I want to give back to the community' or 'I want a nation.'"

The Uber Geek has stated that after the ink has dried and his Little Republic and he have spent a little quality time together, he might legally change the name of his new family member to "Junior".

Bourgie Bah't Mitzvah

2006-09-08T17:42:00.000-07:00

This is me with my sister’s, Octavia’s daughters; her youngest, Jacquelyn, is next to me; next, is the 2nd youngest, Aisha; and on the far left is her oldest, Tasha. The 3 under the dryers were getting our hair ‘did’ for Tasha’s wedding, on Saturday, September 9. (Obviously, little Jacquelyn was good to go, with her locks.)

Yes, that’s right; my niece is getting married. I’m at the stage where I’m attending weddings of the next generation. It’s feels like a new dimension; like walking through a rip in the space-time continuum. And you’re thinking, “What’s with all the b.s.? You’re jealous; admit it and move on.”

It was also 13-yr-old, Aisha’s first time getting her hair ‘did’, as well as, her first mani-pedi. Is that a Corona in her hand? Sunrise, sunset, ya’ll.

Hey, check out what else I've been doing...

2006-08-28T21:12:00.000-07:00

Fight Fire with Fire Wire

2006-07-31T21:07:00.000-07:00

Hey, GenXer’s - I figured out what our thing should be to take back the country from the Squatters in the Whitehouse. You know how in the early part of the 20th century they went out on strike to bring about change? The fifties had boycotts. In the 60’s, they marched. In the 70’s, they had sit-ins. Then came heroine and cocaine and ecstasy…we forgot to protest and stumbled through Reagan & Bush. Then, on through the Clinton years, where we were at least happier while we got screwed. Now, we’ve got a veritable coup on our hands and the best we’ve got is picketing miles away from the event and DVD parties?!! We’ve got to do something, because shit’s gotten out of hand. But strikes are not our thing. We actually don’t want to ‘not work’. How else would we blog? It’s the new smoke break. And, work is air conditioned. Boycotts are an inconvenience, yes, I’ll say it for all of us. Same goes for marches and sit-ins…people get ‘ripe’ well before social change comes about, okay? We’ve become accustomed to not smelling like ourselves…don’t judge us, World.

So what does that leave? How are we going to bring about change without really exerting any effort? What shall be the GenX Sermon on the Mount? Consider this…just as every seminar at the end of college advised us to do, let’s go with our strengths. We have morphed into a society of well connected hermits. Through the magic of cellphones, PDA’s, Xboxes, PodCasts, email, blogging, finally finding our personal space out in the open at My Space, we stay in touch without touching. Like it or delete it, these are our so-called Strengths.

So how do we take back our country? Well, there’re going to be electronic voting shenanigans come the 2006 elections. It’s a given. Therefore, let Nov. 7 be our Norma Rae Moment and back up our data, synchronize our respective devises and uber-crash the bitches! Ready, Aim, WiFi! We don’t even have to be secret about it. Because once it’s known that that’s what type of party it’s gonna be like, Hackers from both sides will flip the votes back and forth, back and forth, back and forth– a cyber battle of attrition - until the hacking cancels itself out with the Blue Screen O’ Death.

Then we’ll use the machines that have worked just fine since the 60’s, when the last of us were born.

I am not Janeane's maid!

2006-07-19T17:41:00.000-07:00

Here's me with Janeane Garofalo. We were both born in 1964; both in NJ. We're both vegetarians. We both were very nice to my nephew, Ni-ni (Beni). We both had Dad's who worked for Exxon, well before the merger; mine as a Chemist, hers as an Engineer, I think (correct me, Nerdz). We both have been onto the antics of the Squatters in the Whitehouse since Day 1! We both look younger. We both dress like vagabonds. We were both chubby before and now...not so much. My Dad thought we both were very funny (and cute!). I still do open mic's, well, actually, non-paying booked spots. Janeane...www.imdb.com. We both are fond of telling people to 'kiss my fat, black ass!" We both smell nice. She's knows what it's like to earn her first million. I've been a Thousandaire for 3 months straight, now!

Oprah and Gayle - Total Besties!!!

2006-07-18T07:31:00.000-07:00

Hey, I don't like Oprah. I don't hate her, either. I think she's uninteresting and has made a career off people who are interesting. I don't think that just because she's constantly on the "who has way too much money for one human being" list automatically makes her a genius. I don't believe just because she allowed herself to be used by a car company to 'give' people who can't afford to buy a car or the taxes resulting from recieving one as a 'gift' on national TV (where the IRS could TiVo it for future auditing ease) that she's a near-saint. I am very relieved that she stopped putting herself in the projects she produces - she sucked in "The Color Purple"! (Although, it was somewhat satisfying to see her get a beat down, rewind and see it again...) And, I did rejoice inside when "Hermes" didn't recognize her and turned her away from the store because IT WAS CLOSED!!! She cried 'racism'. Talkshow hosts are a race? Because all of the black people I know know how to go to a store before it closes.

With this new stunt, she's taking advantage of the 'Coming-Out-Without-Coming-Out' paradox. This is where you announce that you aren't gay in a gay-friendly way so that middle-America white women, who use their devotion to you as proof they aren't racist, will remain loyal viewers and gay mags won't viciously 'out' you. I don't care if Gayle and she stay up all night playing with a paper fortune-teller (see pic, remember those?) to see if Oprah and Steadman will marry or if they flip a coin to see who gets to strap it on...I truly don't care. However, denying it screams, "I'm gay!" Especially when you are 'the Oprah', who allegedly doesn't have to answer to anyone, including the Beef Industry (double entendre?). She's the one describing her relationship with Gayle as "otherworldly" and "designed by a hand greater than my own" wink, wink, nudge, nudge, say no more!

Here's a thought more eeiw-worthy than 'Gay-Not-Gay Oprah': 'Oprah's O' which you know sounds like, "I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I'm-m-m cu-u-u-u-u-m-m-ming!!!!" like she does when she introduces a guest. Feel free to cringe.

I hope I hope I hope I hope oh how I hope she'll move on to the next step in the 'I'm Not Gay' playbook which is "taking people to court to prove your not-gayness" i.e. Tom Cruise. So, I'm writing it here, without proof, Oprah and Gayle are totally gay! Now, I'm going to sit back and cross my fingers and hope that she'll sue me. My life lacks media frenzy. Sue me, Op', pleeeez.

Oh, that explains the pole in the big conference room...

2006-07-14T11:41:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I just got my face delightfully cracked. I went up to one of my point-people for gossip and all-things-catty here at hell, uh, work, to ask something about the new chick, who dresses kind of like a barely-legal nymphette. Today’s ensemble, while subdued in comparison to other get-ups of note, is still ‘suspect’ (One outfit prompted a gay male co-worker to say, “I’m distracted by her breasts – I don’t how all the straight guys are getting any work done!”). Today, she’s dressed sort of like a back-up dancer from that 80’s “Hey Mickey” video in a pink flared mini and a white sleeveless top with a plunging neckline, that doesn’t cover her fetching gang tat. I actually like her; I just become super-prudish and feel somewhat guilty in her presence because of her over-whelming sexuality and distracting breasts. They are mesmerizing. They pull your eyes in like a fleshy whirlpool.

So, today, feeling giddy because the Little Fatman is away and I have a day planned of shirking my duties, I went up to my gossip-friendly co-worker and sarcastically asked, thinking I was going to be funny, “What’s the deal, does [Breasty] moonlight as a hooker?” and the reply came, totally deadpanned, “No, she’s a dancer.” Air-quotes implied. This has made my day! I don’t know why. But it answers a lot of questions and puts my inner-prude, ‘Emily’, at ease. Because ‘Emily’ was going to take ‘Breasty’ aside and suggest maybe not wearing the 2-inch eyelashes or the scrotum-stomping stilettos. But now ‘Emily’ and I feel much better that she’s not just a ‘bad’ dresser. In fact, I’m relieved that 'Breasty’ is a dancer and not a hooker. It’s just my opinion that the difference between the two is monumental. If some dumbass wants to pay you a coupla G’s just to look at your vertical smile, then so be it. Everybody’s happy and equally degraded. However, if you’re a hooker, you’ve got to “do it” for the cash, and only a good narcotic addiction can off-set that damage.

Then I became a little confused because, don’t dancers make loadsa money? Why does she need the soul-sucking day job? Then I remembered…health benefits! It's the reason I whore myself out from 9-ish-to-5:30. Now, I’m very excited about this year’s company Holiday party! What with my mediocre emcee skills and a resident stripper; we could go with a festive burlesque theme! Sure beats having to have conversations and mingling, eeiw.

3 charged with trying to steal coke recipe

2006-07-05T20:05:00.000-07:00

ATLANTA, Georgia (AP) (7/5/06)-- Three people have been arrested and charged with stealing confidential information about drink recipes from The Coca-Cola Co. and trying to sell it to rival PepsiCo Inc., federal prosecutors said Wednesday.

This is a caper that was obviously planned when these people were in junior high. So, let's give them points for perseverance. Here's a pic of two of the 'perps' from a serveilance tape. It's a wonder their co-workers weren't tipped-off . They probably spoke in code like, "Birdie in the cornbread" which meant "You're using up my cell phone minutes with this secret code crap!"

One of the suspects' last name is "Dimson". That's a derivative from the "Dumas/Dumbass" clan. It was destiny for him to screw up. I love what gave the Executive Assistant away...she "rifled through the files". Everybody knows 'Executive Assistants' don't file, that's for regular-level assistants and 'temps'. Exec. Asst.s don't do anything clerical beyond showing up; their job skill is to kneel. I ain't mad. I'm good at filing.

She also had some 'new' product shoved in her bag, along with the secret recipe. Can't be water; they've already done that, remember 'Dasani'? Maybe they're going to trot out that menthol flavour that Malt Liquor Co. tried in the '90's. shoot...cokeblak? Coffee coke. Menthol doesn't seem that redic' does it?

The plot was foiled thanks to valient and blanket efforts of the NSA spying campaign. Otherwise, terrorists would be brewing up soft drinks in bunkers and hating our freedom.

Okay, fine...I'm back!

2006-06-14T09:17:00.000-07:00

Hi- In response to the multitidinous pleas for updates, here you are. But if you are reading this now, return shortly because there will be changes. I'm at work and The Little Fatman does not understand your needs, my adoring fans.

So, to tide you over, please note the photo. It is of my Physical Therapist, Lou. Yes, all that and brains, too! It is his job to put my ankle on his shoulder and lean in closer, closer and closer still until I scream. Insurance pays for this. You all are suddenly not feeling so sorry for me and my accident, right?

Okay, more to come...

Living la vida gatita

2006-02-17T18:12:00.000-08:00

This year began with a bang. Or 3.

1st wk in January, Ex-BF delivered my new, custom-built Orbea road bike. I thanked him energetically. Bang #1.

3rd wk in Jan, I took my sweet bike for a spin, thankstoglobalwarming. My ride came to a hault when the car-service-car making a rolling left was stopped by my knee. I landed on my wrist. Bang #2, Bang #3.

Thus began my Tour de Hospitals: Harlem ER Doc called then-Semi-Ex-BF, who dashed to my side and has since been upgraded to LoML*. Underwent 2 separate surgeries (rt wrist, left knee) performed by 2 brilliant Ortho-Surgeons @ 2 different hospitals in ONE week.

Now, I'm rehabbin in Jersey, for the next 8 wks, allowing Mommy the honour to Baby her Baby. Living la vida gatita.

*$1 US if you decifer this YABA ***
**If you decifer this YABA, you'll refuse the buck and congratulate me :)
***I ain't givin' you no dollar, Cheapass!

SAVED by the Transit Strike!

2005-12-20T10:40:00.000-08:00

I will claim the honour of being the happiest person in NYC with regard to the Transit Strike! For the main reason of saving this posting from being a "Season's Greetings" photo to all my fans of me with my Cats dressed in something festively embarassing. A photo which would have left them no recourse but to wait until I inevitably pass-out on NYE to scratch "Crazy SpinSTAR" in mirror-image on my forehead. Very sad, in deed.

I'm so psyched to be able to "show my support" for the Workers, even if it is as an armchair fabianist (look it up).

I don't smoke cigarettes and I don't eat cheese-food (made from a space-age polymer), I drink imported draft beer, and really, who wears fur anymore? J-Lo? Pulleez...so, I never really got to participate in the boycotts of Phillip Morris/Kraft or Coors, etc.

But, now, on my bike, I get to "be down" and zip to work while getting a nice endorphin kick! [soundtrack: "Crosstown Traffic" by Jimi, por supuesto!]

Funking up the elevator on my up to my floor is just a bonus. We cyclist stink.

Richard Pryor, R.I.P.: The day the Laughter died...

2005-12-11T14:30:00.000-08:00

Ditto all the accolades that are being bestowed, and none will ever be enough. but to add my 2 cents:

Dear Richard,

We were spoiled by the presence of you. You made it look so easy and even when your personal pain became evident, what did you do, but make us laugh harder.

One of my favourite memories involves my love for you. In junior high, my Bestfriendinthewholewideworld and I would lay side by side in our sleeping bags with our heads propped on one of those mono-speaker cassette players, listening to tapes of "That N-r's Crazy" or "Outrageous" or...whatever pilfered from her brother's collection. One of us had to 'man' the pause button in case her father decided to pop his head in or, more likely, we were silently laughing so hard, we'd miss the next bit. It didn't matter that we could recite any of those bits verbatim, with perfect imitation of your unique cadence and the accompanying physicalites. We needed to hear you do it, over and over and over again. If the cassette got tangled, one of us would hold the tape flat while the other one spun it back into position with a #2 pencil. Nothing would get in the way of our own personal "Richard Pryor - Command Performances". We'd wake up the next day with the indentation of the cassette player on our temples, eager to listen for a just little more before we were called downstairs for breakfast.

To this day, if someone says,"This water's cold..." I can't function until I say, "And, it's deep, too!"

Thank you.
I love you,
Jodi

R.I.P. Ruth; we hardly knew ye.

2005-11-28T15:30:00.000-08:00

Thanksgiving is over, but millions of Americans enjoying leftovers today may have Ruth Siems to thank for the stuffing.

Siems, a retired home economist who invented Stove Top Stuffing for General Foods three decades ago, died of a heart attack Nov. 13 at her home in Newburgh, Ind., her family said. She was 74.

Ms. Seims will be interred after being diced into uniform cubes, sauteed in butter then suffed into the carcass of a very large land fowl.

Special cocktails for the ladies with nuts

2005-11-15T18:56:00.000-08:00

Been busy. Been down. This made me laugh like a lunatic in public. More people should laugh like lunatics. Go here and you mght. Which is your absolute fave?

SpinSTARhood

2005-10-28T07:19:00.000-07:00

On the M14 bus, an Evil Teen called me "old" today. Ouch! Okay, so I did ask him, very politely, to remove his dick from my shoulder. Is that any reason for him call me "old like [his] grandmama?"

Subsequently, I called him a punk-bitch. Excuse me, did I say I was proud? Look, he started it! And, just in case you think that I might rationalize to myself that I "won" that public transportation display, let me mention the 9-5-job-tired-church-goin' women who were w/ me on the "remove your dick from my shoulder" request quickly turned on me after I called the Jr. Jackass a punk-bitch. They gave me a collective "tsk-tsk" head-shake that says "You need Jesus in yo' life". (Side note: Should've called him "jackass" and avoided the "tsk-tsk" judgment of Christians - spot the irony.)

He just had to pick today of all days to call me old, the little f*ck. I'm a week and a half into my oh-so-smooove and mature (not!) break-up, during which my Ex mentioned that he'd heard women over 40 have Down's Syndrome babies. Nice. Believe me, if a kid of ours were mentally sub-Genius, it would NOT have come from my gene pool, ifyagitsmameanin.

So, instead of joining a quilting circle or learning how to put my hair into a sensible bun and hanging out my libido to dry, I've been contacting guys on CL - because I'm cheap, okay? I ended up exchanging photos with a guy from Hoboken who is 35 and balding (!), w/ a pot belly - by his own admission! You know what that means, right? If he's acknowledging his belly, then it must be huge! Whatev, I thought, right? He seemed funny, from his emails.

Then, even after seeing my photo, he wrote back and bazooka'd himself in the foot. It read: "even though [I'm] out of his normal age-range for dating, he can't resist the urge to flirt with [me]..."

Oh, no he di'n't.

I wrote back, pointing out that he's NO Ashton and Demi, that AARP Pin-Up Model, is OLDER then I. (I know, weak citing Hollywood Crapola to support my argument, but...)

He'd had the gall to ask what was I looking for in a man. I answered, "a man willing to extend as much leeway as he expects himself." That, and no short dudes or lard asses. Surely, that cauterised his urge to flirt.

Next, we have the 40-yr-old "Date" who showed up hungover on rollerblades! No, no points for balance. Hungover? Cancel. Arrive on skates only if (1) you are 7 (2) that was the mutually-agreed upon, truly geeky plan, or (3) you are also wearing a sparkly-pink tu-tu and Thelebrating continuing your Thelebasthee. Toss in that he was vaguely similar to Harvey Feirstein, which makes it a double-bad choice on his part to show up to a heterosexual date doing something so very femme.

Therefore, if I'm going to be relegated to SpinSTARhood and called "grandmama old" then, I'm gonna fuss like one and take ya'll to school:

(my hands are on my hips)

Where do these guys get off? More importantly - who's letting these MF*rs back on?!!

Women, let's take a stand. Pledge to stop allowing them to believe whatever Adonis-image they have of themselves and replace it w/ liberal doses of Reality. Poke the pudgies in their bellies, pat the shrimps on the head, toss fistfuls of sequins in the paths of roller(gay!)bladers - but, if you call 'em a punk-bitch, first scan the area for Church Women.

And...Fellas, when sending a photo, we are not baffled by the bandana. It does not look like hair. Ditto baseball caps.

SpinSTARhood. Awesome.

Things I've gotten from Craig's List

2005-10-14T18:10:00.000-07:00

1. an apt
2. a Trek road bike
3. 3 dates: Twitchy-the-Lawyer (2 X's); Guy looking for a replica of his Ex.
4. to meet whiny wenches whose only real problem was that they did not have a REAL problem
5. a fleeting sense of superiority (as in, at least I'm not that f*cked up)
6. something to do at work
7. bootlegged MS Office Suite for Mac
8. a sweet Mac Powerbook G4 w/ legal MS Office Suite!!!
9. an opportunity to warn others about smelly guy selling the bootlegged MS Office Suite for Mac that expires (see # 7)
10. rid of an enormous armoire refused by Salvation Army (sidenote: Sally's gettin' uppity)
11. Velo - The Tiniest Ass-Kickin' Tiger in the World! (shhh, btw you and me, he's just a cat)
12. a bike rack (see #2)
13. a fancy bookshelf
14. more Instead Disposable Cups than I'll probably ever need (google it, then I dare you NOT to say "eeiw")
15. a therapist

PRANKED!

2005-09-20T09:50:00.000-07:00

(MTV – English trans. “Punk’D”)

I have just returned well-rested from my beloved Martha’s Vineyard [Side note: I love M.V. so much that I think that I’m a lesbian island trapped inside this human-yet-cute form.*] This would be the trip that solidified me as a "SpinSTAR": Vintage Gen X**, 2 cats and I vacation with my mother and the Widder Sims (pic). At first, I thought that I was too gleeful to blog until I got my snailmail. I’d received a letter from a division of my co’s health care provider (Waitress – English trans. “Emergency Room”). The letter was from Baby Benefits welcoming me to the program!!!

I thought about casually leaving this letter out in the open for my B.F. to see, but decided against it. I don’t want to mop up his urine. Or, rather, how would I explain to the Management Co the “Running for his Life” man-shaped hole in my apt. door, a la Bugs Bunny?

For the record and before you start planning the “Come to the Conference Room at 4:00 pm Surprise Shower” at my office, I’m not pregnant (or I want a refund from the Feminine Hygiene Product Manufacturer for the past few days – ifyagitsmahmeanin’…). Knowing how I wasn’t gettin’ none (B.F. out of town), I really didn’t see myself as the Last Scion.

Granted, people do worship me and I have been known to wear a blue towel on my head whilst barefoot with my hand held vertically at my heart. I did take communion once (with my fingers crossed to thwart being smote). And, then again, there was the time I rocked angel’s wings during the sorta-naked protest against the war w/ my “Not-Gay ex-B.F.” – he was “Shock” and I was “Awe”…hmmm, I wondered...could I?

However, as far as adding up to be an Immaculate Conception Candidate, I’d have to say not. And, really, who has the time? The Little Fatman is going into semi-retirement soon, increasing my responsibilities, and, frankly, I’ll be too swamped to be a Religious Icon.

I called the toll-free # to find out the dilly-yo and was promptly put on hold. At which time I was left to contemplate my possible predicament. I mean, what if I were pregnant… no, not the Scion! Just plain pregnant. Bottom-line, I’d be overall elated and why the F not? I’m 41 for chrissakes (hee, hee) not a teenager; I’m like so ready, fer shur! I am sooo mature and I’d be a totally awesome mom and I would never say anything completely bogus like, “because I said so” and stuff…plus, I take such good care of my cats and it’s like the same thing, ri-eet? Ri-eet?

But just as I was parsing my miniscule savings and calculating how much more time I’d have to stay in hell, uh, at my job, the registered nurse came on the line. She determined that a procedure I had recently alerted the Baby Benefits' computer causing a clerical glitch (Diddy – English trans. “my bad”) .

Wait. Computers gossip?

Regular Health Plan PC calls Baby Benefits PC, “Guhrl…guess what?"

“What, guhrl?”

“You know that NY Spinstah, Jodi? She done had her a thingamajig and I think ya’ll should holla at huh.”

“Yo, fo’ rill?”

“Guhrl, would play?”

“Ump, naw, not about dat. Word. Thanks fo’ the headz up. Now let me go and do how we do…Okaaay? O.K.!” Cyber-head snap.

And, that’s kind of what happened. I had something done that might have been indicative of pregnancy so the Baby Benefits Division was reaching out to me blahblahblah and guess what? They've canceled my account, but want me bear in mind that should pregnancy become a reality, they are there for me. Sweet.

Did I mention that the Registered Nurse’s name with whom I spoke was “Martha”? As in..."I have just returned well-rested from my beloved Martha’s Vineyard...", here we go, again...

*see July 20, '05 posting

** see August 05, '05 posting

Coretta, who? Madonna!

2005-08-18T09:06:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, August 16th, a/k/a Madonna's Birthday, Coretta Scott King (78 yrs), the widow of slain, civil rights leader Martin Luther King Jr., was hospitalized for an unspecified condition, officials said.

Also on that day, Fate intervened so that she needn't be overshadowed on her birthday, Pop star Madonna (ageless), sustained several broken bones in a riding accident in which she was thrown from a horse unfamiliar with her genius.

a/k/a Esther bravely clutched Kabala beads while she endured being put into an ordinary ambulance and not air-lifted to a trauma center, a style more befitting a diva. The ever-compassionate Material Girl pointed out, “She's just his bloody bird; I am a real, live ICON and there wasn’t nearly enough paparazzi taking photos of me cantering around my estate!”

In 1963, 5 yr old Madonna first discovered how fetching she looked writhing on the floor after throwing a tantrum and Dr. King also delivered his "I Have a Dream" speech. 42 yrs have passed and still Pop Stars are required to share the limelight. Until all Superstars, regardless of waning careers and dubious talent, are covered with relentless voracity, none of us are truly free.

Not Middle Aged; I'm Vintage Gen X!

2005-08-05T14:23:00.000-07:00

I realized a lifelong dream when I moved to NY's East Village, or as Comic Roger Hailes calls it, "The 1980's".

Altho I love it here, I really wish it were the actual 80's; those days before I traded in My Potential for a decade of sheer Hedonism - 10 yrs of sex/drug/raver madness, not a vacation at an all-inclusive Caribbean Resort, oh, pah-leeez!

Now, La Village de l’Este is populated by Gen X Offspring who are being denied the ability to shock or rebel against their parents, becuz their parents are totally cool, Original Gen Xers. There is something so anti-punk about borrowing your mother's old "Ramones" T-Shirt or your Dad's vintage Doc Martin's and listening to the "Sex Pistols" on your iPod-mini. And, it's even uber-anti-punk to buy those items at "Urban Outfitters". So, the Gen-X Jr.s are forced to scour for angst to fuel their baseless punkitude in the new & improved East Village; a bistro-laden, tiny-dog abundant, safe neighbourhood. I share their ennui.

The East Village circa 1980's:
*rats were the size of dogs and dogs didn't fit in a purse.
*erudite junkies on every corner imparted wisdom to those seen an unseen.
*bars were were for getting drunk, not sushi.
*People went to Afterhours and never were awake to Brunch.
*the artist-formerly-alive, Basquiat, lived in Thompkins Sq Park about where the frankenshrunk canines now frolick.
*THERE WERE NO BRIDAL SHOPS!
*A dime-bag didn’t cost $50.
*Peasants could afford the peasant-faire served at 'Veselka'.
*Tatoos and body piercings were interesting.
*Goths were thin.

Cro-mags Love M.Doughty

2005-07-28T20:04:00.000-07:00

Not the band but actual sturdy, men with large heads and sloping brows (no photo).

Tuesday night (07/26/05), my niece and I (photo) went to see the Magnificent Mike Doughty at Maxwell’s (alliteration not intended). We noted the crowded room was comprised of roughly 7 awkward women and a bevy of Modern-day Cro-magnon Men! Nearly every one of the guys in the room were shaped like Fred Flintstone in Dockers, apart from the dead-ringer for Bob's Big Boy. Admittedly, seeing them sway, croon along with Mike and stand upright was endearing.

However, when the music stopped between songs, they got a little raucousy, demanding to hear “Real Love" (yes, the Mary J. Blige song). There was something surreal about the many, thick-set men requesting a ballad to be sung by a guy they’d most likely head-butt in another situation...yet, touching.

There was even a Cro-mag Hottie. As in, back in the Paleolithic era, he’d’ve been inundated by female Cro-mags, hurling their hair at him hoping to be dragged back to his lair to rut. Unfortunately, this is 2005 A.D.

For the encore, the Band played a sampled, break-beat extravaganza that confused the Evolutionary Throw-Backs a little and we feared there might be violence. Then M.Doughty segued into something more melodic, restoring calm and the stumpy horde swayed along once more. At show's end, they galumphed back to their Condo-Caves, to rise early to forage for fortunes on Wall St.

They say 'Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.' Add to that ‘make sway the Cro-Mags of Hoboken’.

p.s. If you don't know who Mike Doughty is, do yourself a favour and find out, NOW!

Martha's Vineyard is FAB!

2005-07-20T16:22:00.000-07:00

There are scads of reasons why I love Martha's Vineyard but, I think this photo of a public toilet at the scenic cliffs of Gay Head says it best. The Gay Head head, if you will. Notice the fresh cut flowers?

Yin Yang Extraction

2005-07-20T15:59:00.000-07:00

My first mamogram took place last month, courtesy of the lovely NYU Breast Imaging Center*. After donning a lead apron, I was propped up onto the "Mammotron 3000". As my boobs were being mashed vertically, then horizontally, I wondered, "What Comicbook Geek thought of that name?".

I also realized why mammo's are recommended after age 35; a perky rack would defy being being treated like pizza dough; which could explain the demise of the "Mammotron 2000", the "Mammotron 1000", etc.

Friends warned me that it was going to be mega-painful. It did hurt, but was I supposed to get slightly turned on? The way the Tech grabbed and re-positioned my boob using my nipple as a handle, I contemplated asking her back to my place for a 'tickle fight'.

Side Note: I'm willing to bet that when the Mammo Tech's husband asks, "Honey, how was your day?" he gleefully listens!

A lump was discovered. Not serious, kiddies, relax. The Dr. called it a proteinaceous (sp?) mass - a deposit of protein just hanging out in my right boob.

I've been a vegetarian since 1985. Stupidly, I've been concerned about my protein intake.

The pretty, hyper Dr. w/ a Sweet Tooth, stopped chomping on her giant sugar cookie long enough to show me the lump on the sonogram's monitor. We agreed; it was shaped like a "Yin-Yang" - the Chinese symbol of Balance, representing the two Cosmic Forces of Creative Energy.

"Could that be caused by 20 yrs of tofu consumption?" I asked the pretty Dr., who laughed and said she'd check the journals.

My boobie Yin-Yang was then scheduled for extraction. I was a bit conflicted about its removal. Afterall, she did say it was not life threatening and that it's been there for some time. Its appearance in my boob seems to coincide with my increasing sense of balance. Maybe with it would go my inner-peace and creativity, I feared.

The extraction was attempted, but not fully executed. My boobie Yin-Yang put up quite a fight not to be anihilated! So, now, even though it may be much smaller, enough remained so it can impart its magic.

*JSA (Jodi Service Announcement) Call the brand, spanking new NYU Breast Imaging Center & schedule your Mammo today...you know who you are! 212-731-5002