TRIXIE has a TWIN...

Darlings !

Can you believe this HEAT ? I've resorted to filling the tub with ice cubes and zest of orange peel and soaking for hours. Not only is it amazingly refreshing, but afterwards I smell just like a creamsicle.

MEANWHILE,they say that everyone has a twin somewhere in the world. Well, I've seen my twin, and her name is CINDI MC CAIN. Yes, the same Cindi McCain that you know as the younger wife of Senator McCain.

I look just like her. Well, that is I would look like her if I had six hundred million dollars and owned a big beer distributing company. Take away the immaculately coiffed and dyed hair, the perfect makeup, the designer wardrobe, and that look in her eyes that says, " I'll be so damn happy when this election is over so I can go back to shopping", and you've got me.

She married an older man with dreams, I married a slightly older man with nightmares.
Her husband was a prisoner in Viet Nam during the war. My husband was in and out of several prisons during the war, but he never left New Jersey.

Beer and booze have played an important part of Cindi's life. Same here.

She once rang up a seven hundred thousand dollar credit card bill for one month. Well, I'm capable of such a thing, but all of my cards are currently maxed out.

She says little, and always has a pleasant, yet slightly glazed look in her eyes. Yep, me too.
WE ARE TWINS !!

And speaking of GLAZED, my boss, Kenny, did drawings of the late baseball player/sports announcer, BOBBY MURCER, and actor ROBERT MORSE, featured on television in "Mad Men", and the inventor of the Morse Code.

Your favorite snowcone, I remain,

Trixie

TRIXIE...where have I been???

Darlings,

I hope you didn't miss me much. I had to take a vacation and get away from Kenny and all of his madness.

This year I called my friends at The Twilight Zone Travel and Bail Bond Agency and booked a tour of America's Favorite Federal Penitentiaries. We traveled via "deluxe" motor coach, which turned out to be a refitted yellow school bus, complete with individual folding lawn chairs, personal flashlights, and a camouflage patterned curtain to enclose your private area.

There was no "powder room" to speak of, but the driver was usually willing to pull over to the side of the road. Sometimes we even stopped at twenty four hour truck stops.

My fellow travelers consisted of prisoner’s wives, girlfriends, mothers, and boyfriends. Their enthusiasm and gaiety helped to make the time fly by.( although I could’ve lived without the constant sound of babies crying)

This trip made me feel grateful for my children and assorted husbands, lovers, and one night stands. Yeah, I thought I had it bad till I heard some of their tales of woe.

The highlight was a chance for me to purchase refrigerator magnets from every prison we visited. I am now the proud owner of a miniature electric chair, noose, leg irons, and bar of soap.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Kenny did a drawing of the late, great, TIM RUSSERT, which ran in the WSJ.

Your favorite prison matron, I remain,

Trixie

TRIXIE is HOT !!!!

Yikes !

It's hot, darlings.

Your Trixie is straddlin' the old rusty air conditioner, waving a Japanese fan in one hand, and flopping her tongue inside a tall glass of ice tea.

Kenny suggested a wet T-shirt contest to keep us cool, but I don't want to frighten the UPS driver.

Last night a violent thunderstorm hit the trailer park. The winds were so strong that when I awoke to let the dog out, the front door was facing the highway, instead of the parking lot. Fortunately, none of my dishes or knick-knacks was broken.

When I looked down at my feet, there sat the soggy remains of "The Pig's Foot Gazette", our local rag. My good eye spotted a headline that sent a cold shiver up my spine, “Local Girl Pens New Bestseller” and the "local girl" wasn't me.

Portencia “Pinky” Moscowitz, former cheerleader, graduate of Jimmy Hoffa High School, and The Garden State School of Beauty, has written her shocking new semi-autobiographical book, “DOWNWIND FROM HELL”, to be published by Leopold & Loeb this summer. It has been reported that Warner Bros. put in a decent bid for the motion picture rights, with plans to star Angeline Jolie as Pinky’s mouth.

WELL, if that isn’t enough to make my blood boil! However, I will do the right thing and wish that *#$%@ all the best.

Meanwhile, my not-so-cool boss, Kenny, did a drawing of former Bush press secretary, SCOTT MCCLELLAN and Tony nominated Broadway actor, MARK RYLANCE for The Wall Street Journal.

Your favorite cucumber, I remain,

Trixie

TRIXIE...tried and true

Angels,

The price of everything is going up and up. So,I look around and try to decide what it is I can cut out in order to save a few pennies.

My late husband, Sal Scallopini, made sure that I was well provided for, but I am still cautious and careful. Who am I to be wasteful and set a bad example for those less fortunate?

I cut back on trips to the beauty parlor, from four times a week to three and a half. I only use my cellphone when I'm away from the house. I only drive the Caddy in the city. I drink directly from the bottle to save on straws. I recycle my old hair nets to steam clams. When taking a shower, I only sing up tempo showtunes, which speeds up the process quite a bit.

Yes, when gas is four dollars a gallon, and they just raised postage by a penny, well, you must force yourself to be frugal.

And, speaking of frugal, my boss, old tight wad Kenny did a doodle of the man behind Bloomingdale's, MARVIN TRAUB,for today's WSJ.

Saving my gas, I remain,

Trixie

****PLUS, Kenny did a drawing of Taiwans new President, MaYing-jeou, and just for me, he's letting me show you his Elvis!

TRIXIE is a MOTHER

My Darlings,

I know you find it hard to fathom that I am a mother. In fact, so many people look at my rather large daughter, Casablanca, then they look at me and go, " It's just not possible!"

Nonetheless, she is my child, ( oh, the pain...), and I love her. Thankfully, she looks more like her worthless father, Tumble Willis, Jr., so I don't get all the blame.

Yes, here it is again, the day to remind me of my reckless ways, MOTHER'S DAY. Yikes !

Last year, Casa and I shared an intimate Mother's Day brunch at The International House of Pancakes. She wiped her lips with the embossed paper napkin and spoke, " I didn't get you no gift, but I made up a poom."

"Oh, darling," I smiled, " How sweet, but I think you mean a poem."

" Whatever", she snarled, as she took a grease stained piece of paper from her pocket...

M, is for your cruel MOUTH. You're always criticizing me. Yes, you are...

O, is for all of the OTHER mothers out there. They might be nicer than you, and prettier than you, but they ain't you...

T, Nobody has a TEMPER like yours. I remember the time you screamed at me for wanting to go steady with Dudley Stillwater. You called him a wimp and a sissy. Well, Dudley loved me, and I loved him. He was the only boy I ever dated who showed interest in me, and not just my body. In fact, he never showed any interest in my body.Today, he lives in his own townhouse, which he shares with his pal, Kyle. And to think, all of that could've been mine...

H, is for HAPPINESS, a feeling I felt whenever you were asleep or unconscious...

E, is for the ENVY I felt seeing how the rest of the world was living outside of our trailer park.

R, is for the REGRET I will always have for not running away and joining the circus, but what did I know about elephants?

Put them all together, and it spells, MOTHER, or, a reasonable facsimile.

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY from your hateful daughter,

Casablanca

***** MEANWHILE, my boss, Kenny, did a drawing of author, SIMON WINCHESTER, and a smiling, BARACK OBAMA, which ran in this past weeks WSJ.

Love Ya,

Trixie

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