Friday, December 28, 2007
Hope you had a fine Holiday , (whatever your persuasion), and that you are all geared up for the New Year.
In consideration of all of my new friends and fans, (and you know who you are), I have decided to write one of those annoying year end reviews.
Now, try to read this with an open heart, and don’t begrudge me my exciting and glamorous life.
JANUARY: After an amazing New Year’s Eve party, the last thing I remember is being carried out of an apartment building on Park Avenue by a red headed fireman. The remainder of the month is a complete blank.
FEBRUARY: More firemen enter my life, as my gas heater explodes, and I’m forced to keep warm by baking cookies all day. Finally, I decide to take drastic measures and use my frequent bus rider miles and go visit Auntie Toosh in Boca. The weather is pleasant, but Auntie is old, hateful, and forgetful. However, her trailer is near the ocean, and she recently bought a new flat screen tv.
MARCH: It’s not easy hitching a ride on I-95, especially after dark, but I manage to get a ride with a gentleman trucker. He was hauling illegal aliens from South Florida, on up to Maine , so, he was able to drop me off at my front door in Pig’s Foot, New Jersey .
I helped make the ride more pleasant by singing show tunes, which prompted the gentleman trucker to drive faster and faster.
APRIL: I force myself to do twenty minutes worth of spring cleaning, get depressed, hide the vacuum, and then go and have my hair done.
While at the beauty parlor, I chance upon a contest in one of those trashy gossip magazines, where the first place prize was a complete make-over. I rip out the page and stuff it in my bra.
MAY: I’m soaking in the tub, when the phone rings. Dripping wet, I learn that I have won SECOND PRIZE, which turns out to be a partial make-over. I stare at the mirror and try to decide which half I should have made over. It’s moments like these that separate the girls from the men.
JUNE: The Guiding Light Beauty & Refrigeration Academy is located in a strip mall in Hohokus , New Jersey . My half day of beauty began with an introduction to the sweet but anxious student body. It is here that I learn the majority of the students and faculty are ex cons.
Soon, I began to relax, as the students remind me of my own offspring, (none of whom could master a spit curl, or be trusted around sharp objects).
JULY: It is the hottest time of the year in Pig’s Foot, and my makeup is melting. The air conditioner is on the fritz and my standing naked in front of the open refrigerator causes the parakeet to hang upside down and squawk obscenities.
AUGUST: A dreaded month, as most of the psychiatrist disappear, and a hoard of my loopy relatives descend upon me en masse. I try to be a gracious hostess, but, as usual, I end up waving a knife and threaten to add button holes to their bare chests.
SEPTEMBER: Ever since the demise of “The Miss America Pageant”, I find September to be a totally meaningless month. My daughter, Casablanca, still holds onto the dream of someday winning a beauty contest. If we can locate a pageant for “Miss Steak”,” Miss Construed”, or “ Miss Understood”, I think she might have a chance.
OCTOBER: The State of New Jersey has notified the residents of The Black Lagoon Trailer Park that they plan to take eminent domain of our homes to build a new super highway. Since The Black Lagoon was built atop an old asbestos plant, most of us consider this latest development a good thing. Ah, but where will I go to find the October colors and smells that made our homes so sweet and inviting?
NOVEMBER: As the designated driver for the entire town of Pig’s Foot, I am forced to learn how to drive a big yellow school bus. I have mastered the gears and the wide turns, but the parallel parking still eludes me.
DECEMBER: Well, another year has come and gone. I am toying with a visit to the State Penitentiary to visit one of my ex’s. I think I’ll wear my little fake Chanel. It’s red, with an artificial white rabbit collar and trim. Those bad boys are so hungry for glad tidings and a glimpse of good fashion.
HAPPY NEW YEAR !!!!
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Jingle Bells !
Did you miss me? I was husband hunting on the open sea. At the last minute I secured a delicious discount on one of those all inclusive cruise lines. The name of the ship was the S.S. Food Trough. I don't mean to sound snobbish, but the passenger list was not heavy with blue bloods. It was just heavy.
However,I think I found MISTER RIGHT. His name is Morris Goldfinger, and he's very rich and very old.
We met in the all-you-can-eat buffet line, when I offered to steady his tray while he fondled my fondue. Sweet little man, but a bit out-of-it. He kept calling me, "nurse!"
He wants me to come down to Boca and keep his ticker ticking this Winter. Should I make the old cocker happy, or should I play "hard-to-get"? Whatdayathink ?
Your favorite tinsel tart, I remain,
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Friday, November 2, 2007
My six year old granddaughter, Dijon, asked me to represent her during “career day” at her little school, and I was delighted. She would have invited her mother, my daughter, Casablanca, but she had used up all of her sick days at the carwash.
Anyway, the kids were so cute. I didn’t take a video camera that day, but I did borrow an audio tape, which I have transcribed here to give you a taste of my experience.
Little Dijon got up to introduce me:
“Everyone, today I am very proud to introduce to you my Granny, Trixie. She is a wonderful person, and although nobody seems to know her exact age, she looks pretty good when she leaves the beauty parlor.
Granny has done and been many things in her long, long, long life. She was a carhop, a waitress at a twenty four hour truck stop, a showgirl in New York and Las Vegas, an alligator wrestler, a foot model, a bookie, an extra in Hollywood, a salesgirl at Saks, a secretary, and a great humanitarian.”
So, I get up and face this adorable crowd of tiny people, and before I could say a word of my prepared speech, the questions started to fly:
“Do you think the dress you’re wearing is appropriate for daytime?
“How much money are you worth?”
“Was Abraham Lincoln a good kisser?”
“Are you a natural blonde?”
“Was furniture important to your success, and what exactly is a casting couch?”
“How many times have you been married?”
Well, before I could answer more than one or two questions, my time was up, and I had to leave the little tykes and head for the nearest bar.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
I am so exhausted from spending the day shopping for a Halloween costume with one of my least favorite granddaughters, Chandelier.
( her twin, Candelabra, is much nicer)
"Granny", she screams at me from across the store,"Look, it's a French maid's outfit, just like the one hanging in your closet!"
"Darling", I said through clenched teeth,"I told you I once worked for a caterer, and that was my uniform."
"Whatever", she replied, and then pointed to a rather risque fake black leather number." I want to go as a matrix."
"Sweetie, you are only eleven, and the proper word is dominatrix."
"Yeah. I want to be covered in leather, spurs, and carry a whip!"
"Well, then perhaps you should go as a cowgirl."
"Oh, get real, Granny, you know I'm a strict vegetarian. No cows!"
Saturday, October 13, 2007
This is, without a reasonable doubt, my favorite time of year. Ahhhh, AUTUMN ! The crisp cool smell of cinnamon and squished apples fills the air, and dusk hurls it's hazy glow a little earlier than the day before...blah!blah!blah!
One autumn day, my neighbor said, "You can always tell that summer is over when the UPS driver stops wearing those sexy little shorts."
And that reminds me of a sad and strange story that happened here in my trailer park a few years ago.
There was this very pretty, but very shy young lady that moved into the park in late 1994. Her name was Virginia Vidas, but most people called her "Ginger". She was so painfully shy that she had to work from home. I think she stuffed envelopes. I'm not sure.
However, she never left her trailer. All of the stuff she needed had to be delivered to her door, and she was forced to eat a helluva lot of Chinese take-out.
Feeling sorry for her, as well as nosy, I made it my business to drop by and pay a visit. She never let me inside her trailer, which I decided must be the sign of a really lousy housekeeper. We would always chat through her screen door, and although it was rusty, I could see that Ginger was an attractive gal, plain, but attractive.
All kind of lurid thoughts crossed my mind as to why this single girl was not married.
One day I began to notice that the UPS truck was always making deliveries to Ginger's trailer. My curiosity got the best of me and I came right out and asked,” Honey, what's with all the daily deliveries?"
"Oh, how dreadful. Somebody once gave me one of those, and I couldn't believe their bad taste. But won't they take it back and give you a refund," I asked?
"No, that isn’t the problem," she mumbled. "When the UPS driver delivered it a few days later, I took one look at his face, shoulders, lips, brow, nose, hands, and legs, and fell desperately in love."
"Ginger Vidas, honey, you need to get out more!"
"No, I'm too painfully shy to ever leave my trailer. Now, all I do is sit and watch the Home Shopping Channel, and order all kinds of useless junk. It's the only way I can be certain the UPS driver will come around everyday. I love him so much, but I'm too painfully shy to ever tell him."
I was speechless, a rare occurrence that caused me to leave poor Ginger to her destiny, and shop for new bras.
Well, matters only got worse. Ginger ordered more and more stuff, including rich and fancy desserts, which caused her to gain a lot of weight. Too bad she never ordered any of those crappy exercise machines.
The UPS driver while cute, was a bit dense, and didn't have a clue that Ginger was hot for more than his boxes. Of course all he ever saw of Ginger was her signature. She never ventured further than opening the rusty screen door wide enough to accept the daily package of useless things.
One day, tragedy struck. The cute UPS driver was transferred to a different route. His replacement was an overweight loser, with a bad hairpiece and a lisp.
Ginger was heartbroken, as well as broke.
She fell behind in her mortgage payments, her credit was ruined, and her cable TV was shut off. Her trailer was dark and quiet. No lights and no sound of the radio, television, or the electric bug zapper.
One day, I looked out the window, and Ginger's trailer was gone. No sign or indication, except a large puddle of duck sauce. Everyone stood around scratching their heads, which is not all that unusual a sight in this town. Nobody knew who, what, why, or how Ginger's trailer disappeared. It just did.
All I can say is I'm glad I never loaned her any of my costume jewelry.
Speaking of scratching, my boss, Kenny, who sometimes causes me to break out in a rash, did doodles this past week in the WSJ of: JUSTICE CLARENCE THOMAS, playwright TOM STOPPARD, and former Whitehouse communications director, DAN BARTLETT.
Your favorite moo-goo-gai-pan, I remain,
Sunday, October 7, 2007
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
September is flying by,WHOOSH!, and here we are in the middle of another busy social scene.
Many of you seem lost, confused, and befuddled with the rules of polite society.
I understand your pain, as I was once an awkward swan, but years of experience have helped me to cultivate the manners and style of a society broad…I mean lady.
Condi Rice called me last week and begged for a few of my simple points for dining out with the very chic. She was especially anxious about the proper way to eat a whopper.
(For those of you who live in remote areas, a WHOPPER is a very large hamburger, usually topped with stuff you might find at a cheap salad bar.)
You will note in the slightly altered photo that I am gripping the whopper with a firm grip, however extending the pinkie finger in the air. An extended pinkie finger signifies good breeding. You can also wiggle the pinkie to acknowledge a friend or signal a waiter.
Open your mouth as wide as possible and take a quick and decisive bite.
You are bound to spill some content, so be prepared to smile, even though your mouth is covered with condiments. Cheerfulness and fun is the trademark of people with so much money, they don’t give a damn!
However, if you fear you cannot eat the whopper without squirting the entire party with ketchup, lettuce, and bacon drippings, might I suggest you ask your hostess for a cloth napkin.
Wrap the whopper in the napkin, leaving a small section exposed. You can now take a small nibble without fear of dropping bloody goo on the other guest, or your evening gown.
MEANWHILE, speaking of goo, Kenny did a pen & ink doodle of UNCLE SAM, which ran in Monday’s WSJ.
Your favorite burger queen, I remain,
Monday, September 17, 2007
Monday, September 10, 2007
Friday, September 7, 2007
Thursday, September 6, 2007
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
I have decided to open my heart AND my little life to the world.
Kenny has agreed to let me indulge my passion for sharing, as long as I include his doodles in my posts.
Now, while it's true that I want to hear from my public, don't get too carried away in your comments. A girl has a life away from the computer too, don't cha know?
Your favorite bloggin' beauty, I remain,