Thursday, March 7, 2013

When Duty Calls...

I haven’t posted in a really long time. I thought I would definitely be posting pretty continuously, but I’m busy watching Bravo Television and no one (not even my mom) is interested is what I have to say. I mainly blog so when I read this back a year from now I have a detailed recount of major life events recorded with such hostility and fervor that I will somehow feel that life is okay.

Late January I received an envelope in the mail and it was red. Red is never a good color to get in the mail. White is usually bad, yellow is worse, red means you’re fucked. Alas, I was summoned to Jury Duty. Or, at least I thought I was? The summons was actually addressed to “Elliott M. Schen”. Very strange. I’m not Asian. I’m actually a little white boy. But, the social security number seemed to be correct. So, somewhere in some government office I have been logged as Elliott M. Schen. I really am hoping this will help me get out of a traffic ticket someday (knock on wood). In any case, appointing me for Jury selection is terrible decision on the government’s behalf. I don’t like to make a decision about anything ever. As Elliott Schen, the choice whether to order brown or white rice at a Chinese restaurant is perhaps the highest level of decision I should ever be making, period. Naturally, I was really nervous, not for me so much, but for the old lady who is about to be sent to the electric chair on my behalf because she made an illegal u-turn.

So I registered online and the website said I could take an online test and I would be allowed I could go into court later in the morning on my selection date. Woohoo! Maybe this won’t be so bad.

I don’t by any means consider myself to be a political know-it-all or an expert in criminal or civil law, but I will say my two year old nephew would have aced it. It’s basically a test you cannot fail. During the test the court system forces you to watch about thirty minutes worth of industrial style infomercials shot in 1992. I am fairly certain Tony Danza and Delta Burke were featured extras in the training videos and/or it was just a series of old clips from “Night Court”. Every twenty minutes there is a set of challenge questions that one must answer before going to the next section of the test. For example, there are questions about parking at the court, bus fare re-imbursement, and cell phone usage. Apparently it is illegal to take pictures in the juror waiting room. This is a shame because the freak circus show that was in the holding tank was quite honestly in a word - HILARIOUS. My favorite was the lady who didn't know her name.

One of the questions was “Who is the chief judge in the Central District of California?” Okay, so I actually would consider that a fairly difficult question. If you weren’t watching the training video you probably wouldn’t know. HOWEVER, the test is multiple choice and the possible answers are the following:
A) Judge George Washington

B) Judge Arnold Schwarzenegger

C) Judge George H. King

D) Judge Judy

I guessed “D” just so I could see what would happen. Well, fortunately for those who are mentally retarded and guessed the incorrect answer the LA Court training seminar actually allows you to keep guessing until you guess the correct answer. The sad part is that I do live in Los Angeles and I would imagine a majority of people assumed that George Washington is actually the chief justice.

On the day of jury selection I drove to the Disney Concert hall and I walked to the court building. I passed by an Asian outdoor Yoga class and a man selling crack on the sidewalk and I arrived at the twenty story courthouse which ominously resembles a really tall state prison. With each passing floor the criminals probably are more and more violent. People who peed in a public alley after a drunken night at the Abbey - level one, child murders - top floor.

After passing through metal detectors and a bunch of security guards whom I wouldn’t trust cat sitting, I arrived at ten elevators, along with about six hundred other irate people. Many of whom were employees, several of whom obviously were on their way to court and many others like me, ready to sit around for eight hours losing a day of pay and eight hours of time. Two of the elevators were working. The elevator I boarded went to the first four floors only; luckily I was on floor seven.

After twenty minutes, I finally boarded a different elevator to floor number seven where I was greeted by two ladies - both of whom looked like they were actually criminals. Criminals that some humorous judge on the ninth floor (after a long day at the bench), sentenced them for eighteen years to be the check-in the on floor number seven. I walked up to the window and I told them I was there to report for service. “PAPERS!?” was the response. I showed them my summons and then mentioned that my name was actually spelled incorrectly. I was listed as “Elliott Schen, Asian Entrepreneur. They told me they were going on a break and I would need to get back to them after the twenty minute break.

A break? It’s 9:30 a.m! Are we in Mexico? I just checked in. Are you taking a siesta? You are joking right?
No, no. Surely enough they went on  a break. The break naturally consisted of the ladies just sitting around in front of their computers telling people “I’m on break”. This also meant that the other two-hundred victims waiting to see if they would be called to a jury had to wait as well. Ahh...government efficiency at its finest.

So, I sat down on a chair in the holding pen and took out my IPad and played Angry Birds. I was so angry in fact I breezed through fourteen levels. Some Russian guy started yelling at a poor, little, old lady who took “his seat” when he went to go for a bathroom break. He kept saying, “my seat”, my seat”, my seat”! Mind you, there were plenty of other open chairs. I wish one of them was electric. Rather than engaging in such a ridiculous argument, the old woman calmly said to him “This is America, get a life!” and took an alternate seat in the row behind him. Everyone in the room applauded her gusto, and I imagined this was probably the most applause she’d received in a very long time.

I wish I had been allowed to take pictures because the best part about the holding tank were the .99 cent store Christmas decorations strung about the room. And it was February!

I wondered to myself if they’d actually been there since December of 2011, and had no one bothered to take them down? The most likely scenario is that someone asked the two ladies at the check in counter to take the decorations down and one of them replied “That ain’t our job”, and the other one said, “We’re on break!” And then, because of some ridiculous union regulation no action could be taken. Or perhaps they were a symbolic “fuck you, we’ve been here all year, so will you”. Also of notice was the broken water fountain, covered up with a trash bag. I’m assuming maintenance will fix it - right after the eight non-operating elevators.

After forty five minutes the break ended I got in line again to have “Elliott Schen” changed to “Elliott Scher”. Surprisingly they changed it without hesitation. Finally, I had my life back, I had my identity back and most importantly, I wasn’t Asian anymore. By eleven a.m. the ladies announced about three dozen names that needed to drive an hour to report to a different courthouse. Which in turn I’m quite sure once they arrived they were just sent back to the starting point. Do Not Pass Go, Do Not Collect Two Hundred Dollars. Another half hour passed by with little to no activity and then finally the check-in sisters announced a lunch break. Ninety minutes. Good, I hope I have enough time to get downstairs to the cafeteria. It’s seven flights. I’m going to walk due to your broken elevators. Thanks.

I imagined in my head that the cafeteria would actually be nice. I thought to myself, it would be like the cafeteria at the Getty Museum or the LACMA. I had some delusion in my head that the judicial government would splurge on state employees for a break room, seeing as how apparently the employees almost always on break. Sadly, I was mistaken. It was like the cafeteria from OZ. No, not the “Wizard of Oz”, the mid 2000’s HBO series, “OZ”. I calculated out that I would be paid $8.50 for my day of service. A bowl of soup was $6.50. Chicken Soup for lunch with a diet coke came to $8.63 with Tax. I paid thirteen cents to do jury duty. Talk about criminal activity.

I won’t go into the details of the rest of the day other than to say I went so far in the selection process as to have to return the next day. I won’t go into details about the potential trial I was going to have to sit on as the details are gruesome and upsetting, but I will say the jury selection process was long and arduous and one could say emotional. And SOOOO frickin’ boring. So long and so arduous in fact, that the jury benches had been vandalized. Various potential jury members (the fine upstanding citizens of America) scribbled in pen had engraved various profanities and declarations of love into the back of the seats. “Jerry wuz here” “Fuuuuccckkkk” and “Kill me” were among the inscriptions.

My friend Jacob told me that if I wanted to avoid being selected when the attorneys ask me the question, “Where I get my news from?” I should reply, “Kathy Griffin” and I hurriedly will be dismissed. The question never arose. But I was dismissed eventually as I claimed poverty to the judge and that I would chose money over justice. A true fact. I also dressed as poor as possible, which for me just consisted of what I normally wear everyday to work.

Thus, I’m excused for at least another year. I really hope that by the time I’m inevitably summoned again next year they will have fixed the elevators.

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

The Real Housewives Of Baltimore




I'm obsessed with anything and everything Real Housewives. The fighting, the cookbooks, the table flipping, the backstabbing and the "bubbies" bring joy to my otherwise paltry existence. Rumor has it that Bravo TV will shortly be announcing The Real Housewives of Baltimore.  It will be airing on “Thursdays in Novimbur hon”.

Thanks to my inside Entertainment
Industry connections, I was able to get the skinny on the new cast members before their names and bios are released publicly. You're welcome readers…


 This is Nancy Herbelshire of Reisterstown M.D. For many years Nancy was the shift supervisor of the "Warsh N' Dry" Laundromat on Reisterstown Road. She currently lives in a section eight town  house she shares with her bi-polar sister who is currently on disability. Recently, Nancy's husband of seventeen years divorced her after she "lented" the lawnmower to her neighbors without asking "permissions" from her husband.

With dreams of securing a management position at the "Warsh N' Dry", in 2012 Nancy finally graduated from Phoenix Online University with a degree in public speaking and a minor in business management. This season on the Real Housewives Of Baltimore, Nancy will take a stab at the management (literally) during which she discovers the key to a successful Laundromat does not involve selling snow cones or “shenkin’ a bitch”.


This is Judy Goldshimmer of Pikesville MD. Judy is a former pre-school Hebrew teacher. She currently on maternity leave although she isn’t pregnant, nor did she have a baby. She has four children and a husband who owns the DC based law firm Goldshimmer, Silverberg and Cooperstein. She enjoys the Orioles (The OOOhs”), kugel, and community swimming at the JCC. The black sheep of Pikesville MD, she recently was banned from the Jewish Women's Water Polo league (A.K.A. The Wimerns Wuter Pohlo League” for bringing a broccoli salad accidentally containing bacon to their annual Alzheimer's charity luncheon: "Schvizten and Swimmin’ for the Oldies".

Goldshimmer hardly ever purchased bacon as it was, but there was a sale at GIANT and she couldn’t resist using a good coupon. In a momentary lapse of judgment, Judy forgot that pork for Jews was a definite “no-no”. This season she will navigate treacherous territory as she tries to win back acceptance from the predominantly Orthodox Pikesville society.



This is Harriet Powers of Bethesda MD. A self-proclaimed "Water Billy" (a hillbilly who lives on the water), she is involved developing a makeup and cosmetic line for toddlers. A former pageant judge and stage mom, she is a self-proclaimed fashion and makeup expert, having worked for the past seven years in the beauty department at Wal-Mart. In addition to the cosmetics line she is developing and her part timer status at Walmart, Harriet and her husband run the "Crab Shack" off Route 91.

Harriet, a woman “laced with sugar and spice and everything nice”, is also former dancer (and stripper) having performed was a principal soloist with both the XXX Castle on Baltimore’s Broadway Street and she also served as the prima ballerina with the Parkville Ballet before she was let go due to her addiction to Extra Strength Tylenol and Visine and her inability to cope with her hyper extended elbows. She occupies what little spare time she has teaching intermediate level Krumping at the local dance studio.

Harriet is a proud mother to two twins, Lucy-May and Dessie-Louise. Harriet, a respected socialite and Ocean City expert, has been asked to write a top five article for Best Of Baltimore magazine. Unfortunately, Harriet has absolutely no idea what to write and coincidentally, neither does anyone else she knows. The season will take her on a tenacious search, opening up her inner self, lowering her remarkably low standards to find out exactly, what is the best of Baltimore? The results may surprise you and possibly leave you in a state of terminal apathy.


 Denise Whiting, of Baltimore MD., is the infamous owner of the Hon Café in Downtown Baltimore. A tough businesswoman, Denise currently spends most of her days screaming at her kitchen staff for their complete disregard for the proper measurement of marshmallow fluff in her Sweet Potato Salad recipe. Denise was first made infamous when she hung a giant, fifteen-foot tall paper mache pink flamingo above her restaurant and local government sued her for protruding into the local right of way. Denise later agreed to pay a hefty $400/year flamingo lease fine and a new and improved flamingo came out of hibernation after weeks of inactivity. Then-Mayor Sheila Dixon, who was later tried for corruption, was present at the unveiling of the new flamingo.



A hostile victim of local government jurisdiction, Denise later attempted to sue Baltimore as a whole after she claimed to have trademarked the word “hon”. The case proved unsuccessful. In 2012 Denise' restaurant was featured on an episode of Gordon Ramsey's Kitchen Nightmares. Called a "disgusting little piggy" and a "pathetic donkey from hell" by Gordon Ramsey, Denise is trying to re-build her reputation as the charming queen of Charm City. Her new business venture with childhood friend Nancy Herbelshire called "Clean Clothes and Snow Cones" will be the ultimate test of friendship.


Completing the faboulous five is housewife Rose "Ro-Ro" Jaffe. A Baltimore native who was raised in a crack house, she escaped the slums of Baltimore and is currently a "liberian" at P.S. 666. Rose runs the inner city school initiative "Baltimore - The City That Reads", a program that with the help of volunteers has helped over 4,000 East Baltimore 8th grade public School students learn to read "The Hungry Caterpillar". The students are currently progressing well, school officials say that in 2014 it is their hope that all eighth grade students in Baltimore will be reading at a second grade level. Rose is involved in many local organizations and is an active member of the Church of The Lord, Jesus Christ. She is lead singer in their Sunday choir. This season will follow her journey to mount a musical version of the Oscar Winning movie Precious


 As you can see, it’s lining up to be an amazing season on Bravo Television. I am truly looking forward to "The Real Housewives of Baltimore". And if the show doesn’t come to fruition, one can only assume it’s because Denise Whiting is now suing Bravo and NBC for defamation of character; or, as Denise says, “deformation of characters”.

Monday, June 25, 2012

My Landlady Is A Dumpster Diver


Saturday evening I was out of town when I received a call from a blocked number. Typically I ignore calls from blocked numbers, as usually they are calls from collection agencies. Unfortunately, I owe eighty thousand dollars to Wagner College in New York City. A college that provided me with a useless hundred-thousand dollar degree in theatre that would later earn me an illustrious job as a dancing fork in a Baltimore dinner theatre production of "Beauty & The Beast". A job where I played a pirouetting utensil for six months and made less than minimum wage. For those of you pursuing a degree in theatre, stop now, I beg of you. P.S. Eight years later, I still make minimum wage, only now, my job doesn't require jazz hands. Sallie Mae's going to be waiting a long time. 

Anyway, I answered the call and low and behold, it was Esther, the deranged landlady of my luxury estate.  I immediately took a swig of the vodka tonic sitting on my nightstand and said a Hail Mary. Okay, I didn't actually say a Hail Mary, I don't even know what it means to "Hail Mary" except I assume that's what you say to a cute gay guy you meet on the street. Or maybe that's, "Hey, Mary!"; I really don't know. I don't participate in religion and the last time I prayed for anything was when there was rumor that Oprah Winfrey was getting her own network. Apparently God does exist.

First off, I want to state for the record that people with blocked numbers must have something to hide. I don't have any skeletons in my closet; my life is an exposed book. Well, truth be told, it's more like an AA pamphlet. I don't have a blocked number and I have nothing to hide (except a pair of Jenkos I purchased in 2004 when I thought it would be fun to go urban for a day). I understand if you are a celebrity and you have a blocked number, or perhaps if you're a drug dealer or an exotic animal collector, however, when you are a 103-year-old landlady who manages a ramshackle apartment building, your phone number should be fully visible to the tenants and to the homeowners association. I really wish her number came up unblocked because I would program her into my phone as "Mrs. Hitler" and I would laugh every time she called. It would be really funny until one day when I accidentally picked up and said, "Hello, Mrs. Hitler". 

Alas, I picked up the phone and said hello. Esther replied, "Hello…hello…Elliott?" Did Esther forget whom she was calling?  Did the nasal, high-pitched voice on the other end not sound like me? Everything, and I do mean everything she says or does is completely irritating. Why does she stare at me from her balcony with binoculars? Why does she stop the elevator on her floor to lecture me about the dangers of carrying heavy groceries up to my apartment? Why does she feel the need to wear sweat pants, socks and sandals every single damn day in West Hollywood? Where are the fashion police? Where are the real police? Why have they not arrested her?

Esther is also the slowest speaker in North America. She is Mr. Ed. Esther says to me, "I was going through the recycling and I noticed you threw out some mail from Anthem Blue Cross. I just wanted to make sure you didn't need it". I didn't respond for a solid thirty seconds. She was going through the recycling?! Wait, what? Esther has been spying on me since the day I moved in, but this is insanity. She is now going through my personal trash. My landlady, in addition to being a fashionista, a relative of Gladys Kravitz, an authority on plumbing, and a general threat to happiness everywhere is, a dumpster diver! 

My first thought was – "Oh my God, what other mail has she been going through? Is this why I haven't gotten my penny saver in weeks?" I should really start subscribing to gun catalogues just freak her out. My second thought was, "Oh my God, she eats stale cereal and apples out of the dumpster" SHE IS THE RACCOON LADY. Because you know the people who are dumpster divers root through the trash to find old bread and moldy cheese and they cut out the moldy parts and then eat them. It's true. There was a whole show Oprah did on it. Esther probably has a table set up next to the dumpster right now. She has lit some candles and is enjoying the rest of that bottle of two-buck chuck I threw out. She's also eating just the rainbows from a bowl of stale Lucky Charms along with a side tin of expired cat food and she has invited some homeless people to her supper club. 

I'm going to the press with this one. And by the press, I mean the building owner. I didn't know how to respond to her. I told her politely, "I don't have Blue Cross/Blue Shield but, thanks for checking." What I really meant was, "I'm getting a restraining order you crazy bitch."

END SCENE.

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Real Housewives NYC are back.


The Real Housewives Of NYC are back…kinda. There's a few semi-paralyzed faces and nagging voices noticeably absent but, all in all, I can say I'm not sad to see the likes of Jill Zarin, Kelly Bensimon and Alex McCord bite the dust. The new wives - Carole, Heather and Aviva, join Count Chocula (aka Countess Luanne) and Sonja for three delicious television months of life lessons in socializing, "Elegaaaance", and romancing. 


Warning - SPOILERS AND CURVY ROADS AHEAD.


The Real Housewives show always begins with each housewife holding up a golden apple whilst they pan to the camera to utter their new brilliant catch phrase. Count Chocula wins the catch phrase contest this year as her current catch phrase is, "To some people, living elegantly just comes naturally". Mmmm hmmm. Count Chocula is OBSESSED with elegance, it's like she has elegance aspergers syndrome. When she makes her bi-weekly trip to Burger King I'm pretty sure she asks for the "Elegant Double Whopper" along with the "Elegant Frenched Potatoes". The cashiers all hate her because she pays in cash and I'm sure she wears that stupid paper crown all day just to remind people that she is a countess. She also pronounces the word elegance as "ell-le-gahhhhnce". It's hilarious and makes me pee my pants every single time.


P.S. -

The  song lyrics to her number one single (out of her two singles) go, "Money can't buy you class, money can't buy you class….elegahhhnce is learned, my friends, elegance is learned, oh yeah!". The best part of the song (besides her fake Madonna/ East Europea accent) is at the end of the phrase when she randomly screams, "Oh, yeah". Take a note aspiring socialites -  when one teaches others about social etiquette, one should always end the tip with, "oh, yeah". For example, if you tell your one night stand to pull out you should say, "Darling, please don't cum in my ass, oh yeah". Or, when you notice your neighbor walking their dog you can say, "Please stop letting your dog shit on our lawn, oh yeah!". Count Chocula/Lulu is my "go to girl" for all things class. She is also the "go to girl" for when gay men want tips on drag queen makeup.


Sonja's new catch phrase is "A little Sonja will spice up any day". So, Sonja apparently thinks she is an exotic spice. If Sonia was a spice, I'm pretty sure it would be something everyone hates ---like dried cilantro.

I'm now going to take a stroll through the first episode of the season, bring a change of underwear kids, because it is hilariously funny (without trying to be). In the opening scene, Countess and Aveva stroll through the park. The countess drops a bomb....


"Aveva is graceful, charming, poised---you'd
never even know she has a handicap." 
-Countess

Okay, I am already doubled over laughing at Chocula, but wait, what? What? What!? Aveva…handicap? Is Aviva mentally retarded? That would naturally be my first guess, but, more on this later.

In the second scene, we see Sonja getting ready for a party. By the way, she has a new intern, aka, an unpaid personal assistant. In case you weren't aware, Sonja has been in the NY Post many times because she's one broke bitch. Bitch can't afford cat food, much less a personal assistant. But it is nice that rather than laying off her staff (which she doesn't even need) she now just demotes them to be interns. I can only imagine the invaluable experience her intern is gaining. When this intern girl applies for her next job to be the store manager at Claire's I'm sure they will be impressed to see "Sonja Morgan's Intern" on her resume. 


"Did you not put water in this ? Oh my God, where did you girls go to college?" 
-Sonja


"The only thing worse than stale brioche at a party is stale guests." 
-Sonja

Sonia's party plays out on screen and let me tell you, I would have paid upwards of eight dollars to have been invited. In the beginning, Countess/Chocula/Lulu, Sonja, Carole and Aviva get aquainted. Sonja, being the socialite that she is, is shocked that she's never met Carole before. 


Sonia - I've heard about Miss Carol Radziwill and I'm surprised ive never run into her before because of her Kennedy ties.

Carole - I know. I stay pretty much below 14th st.

Sonia - I only go downtown when I want to get frisky, and then I come right back. Well I still go frisky, only a little less than I used to.

Uggg...gross.

Later at the party, Aviva corners Carole and chats with her insufferably about her NY Times best selling 2003 memoir that apparently Aviva just read. Or wait, maybe she didn't read it...maybe someone read it to her. She does have that mystery handicap....

I suppose next on her reading list is Moby Dick or perhaps The Hobbit. You know, stuff that's really current. Carole's book is called "What Remains: A Memoir of Fate, Friendship and Love." It's an account of her life, her marriage to fellow ABC News producer Anthony Radziwill, and their battle with cancer. 

Aveva, being the Suzy Sunshine that she is, keeps rattling on and on about the book and about cancer....


Aviva - (Quoting Carole's book) I hate cancer. I hate it.

CUT TO CONFESSIONS BOOTH

Carole - I think the downside now 10 years later I can walk into a party and meet someone who's read it for the first time and I have to click back into "widow time" and here I am in you know my sexy, black hotpants and high heels...

BACK TO PARTY

Aviva (Re: Carole's late husband) - And you know the cross that he gave to somebody for his birthday...

Carole - Can you see my tits?

CUT TO CONFESSIONAL BOOTH

Carole (CONT'D) - When she mentioned the cross I thought, "okay, we are done".

Carole is now my second favorite. She's fiercely intelligent and uninterested in people and more so interested in her tits. I wonder if we are related. I also like that she is a master at transitions. 

Poor Carole can't seem to catch a break and then subsequently winds up wrapped in a conversation with Ramona and Heather about their miserable children. Carole of course, being fierce and independent, has no children.


"I don't hate kids, I just hate when groups of mothers get together and that's all they talk about. I understand the way that's women bond with each other but is not the most interesting for women who don't have kids, and I bet you it's not even interesting for those who do have kids." 
-Carole

Carole abruptly ends the conversation when she declares, "I'm going to go get a drink while you guys talk about kids". She then exits to the bar. NO SHAME. She not only hates kids, she also hates Ramona and Heather, and that's good enough for me. 

Count Chocula then bumps into the new housewife, Heather. As an audience member we don't really know ANYTHING about Heather yet, but we do know that  her dad just passed away last Friday and she is telling everybody and everything at the party about it. It's almost as if she's celebrating her father's death. Chocula is not impressed...


"I can totally sympathize, but darling it's cocktail time...awkward." 
-Countess

Of course towards the end of the evening Chocula and Ramona get in a fight. Countess lectures Ramona on parenting. I wish my editing skills were fine tuned enough to make a re-mix of this delicious morsel...

Later in the episode Ramona visits her new friend Heather at her "Yummy Tummy" offices. You see, Ms. Heather runs a spanks company. This is perfect. Ramona needs spanks. Not just one for her waist, but one for her mouth. Heather is probably thinking about designing a line designed for such a thing and she will probably call it the "Ramoutha". In the scene, Ramona brags to Heather that she's on the cover of the "Learning Annex" magazine.



"You know if I was on the cover of the Learning Annex, you know that free magazine that's next and trash cans on every street corner in New York I think I'd be questioning the direction of my career, not bragging about it." 
-Heather

So, Ramona is on the cover of the learning Annex with an article about building a business. The learning annex? Isn't that where they send the kids that have "special needs"?

Bravo lately has been mastering the art of interstitials. This week they put together a particularly fine homage to Ramona's alcoholism. I snapped a picture montage for your enjoyment. All you need to know is that Ramona is watching her help as they try to open up a bottle of her pinot grigio using a new wine opening device....

 

 


 
Mario!?!
You'll break it! AHHHH!!!!


I.N.S.!

Ramona was very upset. She had to call Mario to open the bottle. Mario came downstairs and also couldn't open it. Ramona needed her medicine. It was the worst of times, it was the worst of times. 
About 2/3 of the way through the episode one of the greatest moments in television history happened. Better than the OJ chase, better than Janet Jackson's nipple, better than Tom Cruise jumping on Oprah's coach (which she's still mad about BTW)....

Let me break it down for you (pun intended)...
Sonja goes to have a pedicure with her new friend Aviva (the one with the mysterious handicap). Aviva sits down in the chair and puts down a big, orange bag. Sonja remarks that she's seen that bag before, "her friend Eric Clapton used to bring that bag when they went to the pool". And then we discover the mystery behind Aviva...

 O.M.G.
One for high heels, one for sandals, one for swimming.

"I get amused by the reaction when I tell people I have an artificial leg but it's not like I tell them I have a penis or something." 
-Aviva
Hooray Bravo! Bravo! I'm not laughing about the Aviva is missing a leg, that's nothing to laugh about; however, the fact that she decided this specific time to expose her handicap....PRICELESS. She showed it off so casually, like she was taking out an umbrella in the rain, or like Lindsay Lohan showing off her bedazzled ankle bracelet. I know there's not really a convenient time to reveal you're an amputee, but I mean, the fact that she did it at this very moment...comic genius. I can't wait to see her on "Dancing With The Stars". It's been a couple seasons since we had a good amputee. 

The episode then cuts to Count Chocula in the Hamptons. She is having an art show for her teenage daughter. Her daughter has had an obviously extremely happy and privileged childhood, here are some of her paintings she made to showcase her happiness…




WHOA NELLY. HAPPY TIMES AT LULU'S HOUSE. 
In the final act, Ramona has her own house party. Yes, there's a lot of partying going on in the first episode. I'm not just talking about the party Ramona had when she adjusted the IV drip on her Pinot Grigio machine to heavy flow. Or the party she threw when she kicked the shit out of her abusive husband Mario because he called her Crazy Eyes Mcgee. 

As usual Ramona/Ramonster likes to criticize her guests because she is a caring and gracious host. During one instance, Ramona interjects Heather and Mario as they converse about something completely innocuous, maybe it was the weather, maybe it was the wall color, maybe it was Ramona's drinking problem...I can't remember. Anyway, Ramona and Mario curiously notice that Heather allegedly has a habit of interrupting them while they talk to her. They then gang up on her like Bonnie and Clyde. Ramona is Clyde.

Mario - I've already noticed I'm having a hard time, you've cut me off at least three times.
Ramona - Right. You cut people off just so you know. I like you, so I'm just giving you that little heads up.

Heather - I felt the same thing about you but, clearly we like each other because we're just trying to get into word in edgewise because we have a lot to say. 
Then everyone is called to dinner and guess who Heather has to sit next to....

 

"Great. Mario criticizes me and then I have to sit next to him a dinner. I hope I don't interrupt too much or partake in the conversation." 
-Heather
The episode ends with Ramona toasting her new friends. As usual, her party went swimmingly and it's a big ole love fest. We're off to a great start. I leave you with Ramona's blessings....











Thursday, May 31, 2012

Missed Craigslist Connections


Craigslist "missed connections" is always a fun place to visit if you are bored and you need a good pick me up. In my effort to entertain myself during the evening hours I decided to re-write the messages with an actual account of what really happened. After all, I believe in honesty and truth. People should not lie or exaggerate, especially on craigslist. Original messages in blue. Translations in red. 
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Target, around 6pm - m4m - 22 (La Brea/SM Blvd)


Date: 2012-05-31, 1:01PM PDT
Reply to: 



This is 100% pointless, but I'll give it a stab. You were told to move to another register, but didn't. you were wearing grey pants/toms. We had small talk; I wanted to say more, but didn't want to awkwardly wait after he finished cashing me out. Tell me something about me..? -- 

This is my last chance at finding a man so please, please respond. Last night I had a good mind to slit my wrists due to loneliness, the only thing that stopped me was the fact that my shitty kitchen knives were from Target "RE" Room Essentials collection and they can't cut through bread, much less lacerate my jugular vein. We were standing idly at the register as the blonde woman in front of us bought a banana.  I noticed your grey pants and toms and immediately pegged you as fashion forward and that made me very happy. Carmella at the register couldn't tell if the banana was organic or regular and thus we had to wait for a store manager to come and solve this life dilemma. Whilst we were waiting, I murmured into your ear "Can you believe the size of that banana?" and you said "I've seen bigger". Carmella, frustrated not just at the untagged fruit, but also at her plight in life as a Target employee, turned on her light and dismissed you to aisle eight while she called a manager over. I was left standing there by myself, alone with organic banana woman and Carmella. I gazed at you longingly from across Checkout land. You purchased your pack of double sized 18 pack toilet paper and exited downstairs. Tell me something about me, I love when people talk about me, it's probably why I'm single. Yours truly, man behind Mrs. Chiquita banana.

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You win - w4w

Date: 2012-05-30, 4:23PM PDT
Reply to: 

Everything I am I gave you
Every dream I dreamt was of you
Even when you fought my love I loved you

My trying's done
Down goes our sun
My empty heart 
Your heart so thin

I've been knocked out
I'm down
You win


As you swim the muddied pond, beware the plenty of fakes out there 

Everything I am I gave you  {herpes}
Every dream I dreamt was of you  {being lowered into a volcano}
Even when you fought my love I loved you {and your pick-up truck}

My trying's done {I have arthritis from softball}
Down goes our sun {daylight savings bitch}
My empty heart {bleeds the warm blood of feminism}
Your heart so thin {my bush so thick}
I've been knocked out {from drinking}
I'm down {to go down}
You win {you cunt}
As you swim the muddied pond, beware the plenty of fakes out there 

FIN
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Rachel... - w4w - 31 (los angeles)


Date: 2012-05-24, 1:00PM PDT
Reply to:



i haven't stop thinking of you...even though we haven't gotten very far, but i still miss you...i know i f***ed up and i know i should've gone to your house that one night...my reason was and still is logical, i just hope you can understand...text or call me, i really want to see you again -Paola- 

I can't stop thinking of you, I wish you would leave the house more often. I'm sorry I stole your stuff, but in all fairness you did give me the key last year before we broke up.  My reason was and still is logical, maybe you shouldn't have slept with Daria and maybe I needed a new IPAD. If you call the cops I will tell them about the puppy mill. I really want to see you again….so I can slit your throat. you dumb bitch.  –Paolo–

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Deli Sandwiches & Piano - m4w - 32 (L.A.-90022)


Date: 2012-05-31, 12:56PM PDT
Reply to: 



I chatted you up at a deli in east la on Tuesday, 05/29. i should have invited you to eat with me, but i didn't...

we talked piano and sandwiches. if somehow you see this and decide to e-mail me, please tell me anything specific (clothing, details of conversation, what you ordered, etc.) to weed out the numerous advertisement-prompted emails that i expect to receive... 

We were standing in line for our five dollar foot-longs and I was chatting with you about Boar's head when you declared, "Your bologna has a first name, it's S-H-U-T-U-P". You made me laugh, and I should have invited you to eat with me, but I didn't want our first date to be in a sandwich shop. It would have been awkward because you would have sat and shoved that giant sub down your throat as we conversed and all I would have been able to imagine is well, you know what. I mentioned I was a rehearsal pianist for Meatloaf and I don't know why, but you seemed to leave in a hurry without even ordering your sandwich. Please tell me anything specific about the conversation, I need to weed out all the emails I expect to receive, I tell a lot of people about my career in the music industry….

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To my meathead AC- from your kitten - w4m (Brentwood)

Date: 2012-05-30, 7:31AM PDT
Reply to: 



You wanted your time & space and I've been using this time to work on myself. You'll probably never see this, but if you do...know that I love you and miss you everyday. I hope you can find your way back to me. 

You should have fed me, you asshole!
-Sincerely, Tabitha the kitty cat.

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tattoos with cigar at 10 am tuesday - w4m - 34 (south pasadena post office)

Date: 2012-05-31, 1:36AM PDT
Reply to: 


you were parked in the mazda in front of me. that was awesome.

So fuckin' awesome. I love men in Mazda's. Nothing is sexier. Except for men with tattooed dragon sleeves smoking cigars in Mazda's. I'm turning myself on right now. Yeah boy, yeah. Please write me back. I've got forty five cents in my pocket and a letter that still needs delivering. 

First class mail only. Peace out. Awesome. 

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you did it to me - m4m - 42 (wilmington)


Date: 2012-05-30, 6:39PM PDT
Reply to: 



we was at the towel club in wilminton , i'm latin, you f...k me but you came so fast, can we do it again, but tell me how my hair is 

I stopped by the towel club after my ESL class to pick up my weekly custodial paycheck. We had just finished our lesson in past vs. present tense and I was excited to try out my English skills with a true gentleman. I spotted you in the hallway and you looked at me like I was a piñata at a fourth of July picnic. I'm the Latin one, not the black or Asian one. You shot so fast and hard, it was like a gang fight in Tijuana. Tell me how my hair is, was it lookin' hot that day, or did I have the jew fro' ? (that happens when my wife buys VOX shampoo).

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Hollywood DMV - m4w - 33 (Formosa)

Date: 2012-05-31, 1:07AM PDT
Reply to: 



You were stretching your injury today as I sparked a conversation with you. I knew you were a dancer when I saw you but when I looked close I realized you were an Angel. I wish I had asked for your digits or given you mine. They called your number and off you went into the DMV abyss to never re appear. I hope you read this. Its totally meant for you! 

We were waiting in line for nearly ninety minutes. I was almost up, and I was nervous that I would have to take a vision test b/c DAMN, I thought I saw an Angel. I watched you bend over and stretch out those white silky tendons. I traced your camel toe around your lady lunchbox and wished I could speed through your V-Trap. Although you told me you were a dancer with the Los Angeles Ballet, I knew you were a coked up stripper b/c I saw you last Wednesday at Nude Girls XXX, not to mention, there's no such thing as the Los Angeles Ballet. Precious called your number and into the testing room you went. I hope you see this, even though you probably can't read. PS The wheels should be turned toward the curb going downhill. 

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Perhaps I will do more of these in the future and/or explore another facet of Craigslist. It is a treasure trove of material. Who knew Craigslist is not just for finding jobs as web-cam performers...but rather a beacon of endless entertainment.