TRIXIE...where seldom is heard an encouraging word...

Sweet-peas,

I am faced with a family crisis. My daughter Casablanca's twin girls, Chandelier and Candelabra, are determined to audition for "American Idle".

Yes, I am their granny, and you'd think they'd have some of my gifts, but those two don't have enough talent to fill a flea's navel.

How do you tell your own flesh and blood that they suck? I'm not a mean person, but I don't want those two tone deaf, knocked kneed, pock marked, pigeon toed lovelies to suffer the humiliation of layin' an egg in front of billions of people.

It's just not like it was when I started out in Show Biz. In those days, if you could walk and fit into the costumes, you got the job. Today everyone is so versatile. I think it has something to do with global warming and the use of steroids.

Meanwhile, speaking of pigeon toes, my taskmaster, Kenny-the-hateful, did a doodle of the curator at the Whitney Museum, DONNA DE SALVO, and the late CHARLTON HESTON, ( who once placed his hand on my chest and whispered, " You'll have to remove this from my cold dead hands." And I replied..." works for me, Moses!")

Your favorite granny with the great gams, I remain,

Trixie

TRIXIE Welcomes SPRING...

Angels,

Once again, I failed to win the Easter Bonnet Contest on 5th Avenue. Disaster struck when my bonnet, done up to depict Moses leading his people across the Red Sea, tipped slightly to the side, and the damn water spilled over and drenched a troupe of Girl Scouts dressed as mint chocolate thins.

I am, however, thrilled that Spring has arrived, and I can air out my trailer. I feel refreshed, I feel vibrant, I feel like having my toenails painted chartreuse.

Spring is when a young man's fancy starts to lean towards a young woman. Oh, would that my useless husband, Tumble Willis Jr. could even find his fancy.

Speaking of useless, my boss, Kenny, did a color doodle of the star of the new Broadway revival of "South Pacific", KELLI O'HARA, ( not to be confused with Scarlett O'Hara or Neely O'Hara), and legendary jazz pianist, MARIAN MCPARTLAND.

Your favorite blossom, I remain,

Trixie

Five dollar make you holler...

Concerned Citizens!

I am in amazement over ex-Govenor Spritzer's current situation.

I called my old galfriend, Voluptuanna Muldoon, ( the founder of Voluptuanna's School of Escorting & Shorthand), to inquire what a person should expect for five thousand dollars an hour.

" None of my graduates ever got that kinda bread." She said to me over her speakerphone.
" I would assume that besides the hanky panky, for that amount a "john", oh, excuse me, a
"client" would expect to have his teeth polished, a razor cut, his suit pressed, and detail work on his car."

I dunno, I am just amazed at the price of things these days. However, I suppose I should be grateful that my current husband, Tumble Willis,Jr. is completely faithful to me, even though he doesn't always remember my name.

If you asked me, I'd say that the only solution for all of this sexual scandal going in our government is to elect only homely women and eunichs.

Speaking of scandals, my boss, Kenny, did a doodle of the culprit, ELIOT SPITZER, which ran on today's editorial page of WSJ.

Your favorite faithful wife, mother, and secretary, I remain,

Trixie

TRIXIE wants a recount...

Dear fellow ultra conservative Republicans,

( no, I'm NOT asking for money)

I am so depressed. I volunteered, I made phone calls, I attended rallies, I gave money, and yet my candidate, Mike Huckabee, dropped out. Now, I have all of this energy, drive, and determination, and no place to put it.

McCain does nothing for me. He's old, slow, short, and his much younger second wife looks like she might have spent some time as a pole dancer, ( even though there is certainly NOTHING wrong with artistic dancing). Come to think of it, most of the Republican candidate's second wives look like former pole dancers. I'm surprised I was never married to any of them dudes.

Give me a break with the whiny Demos trying to sell us with the idea of the first woman or black President. Perhaps I should suggest that my party consider nominating Condi Rice, which would put us Republicans way ahead, with a BLACK, FEMALE, LESBIAN President! Uh, huh!!!!

MEANWHILE, my pinko boss, Kenny, did recent doodles of WILLIAM F. BUCKLEY and PETE HAMILL, for the WSJ.

Your favorite pole dancing Republican assistant, I remain,

Trixie

TRIXIE fails to win MegaBucks...again !!!!

I don't know why I even bother buying lottery tickets. The gracious gods of good fortune have already blessed me with flawless skin, radiant hair, sparkling teeth, and a body to cause sailors to weep. Why should I expect more than my share of luck?

BECAUSE I'M GREEDY AND NEEDY...that's why!

So, I see on the news a story about this middle aged couple from some dinky town in Georgia that won the entire $270 Million, ( it's always in some dinky town, never in the metropolis where I hang).

I nearly had a fit when the hillbilly wife with too few teeth exclaimed, "Well, we is blessed, and we is happy, but it ain't gonna change us none, cause we is just plain folk. I myself is just too country."

Yeah, well, she could start by buying some new teeth, and a few lessons in speaking proper English couldn't hurt.

Oh, just let me win some of that loot. I'll get on the news and tell it like it is:

" Oh, baby, I feel like two hundred and seventy million dollars, and this *%#&@ money is gonna change my life...BIG TIME! I plan to change my name, my phone number, and move as far away from my loser friends and family as I possibly can!"

Well, I can dream, can't I ?

* two new doodles from Kenny's pen: BENNY GOODMAN & KIM JONG II

Trixie...when she stood near an oven...

HAPPY NEW YEAR !!!

Hello, Mistletoes!

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 !!!!

Trixie