The daring young twunk on the flying trapeze...

Sunday, April 21st I had my first ever trapeze class. I should confess that I've always wanted to fly on the trapeze. When I was younger,  I wanted nothing more to be in the circus. Twenty years later I work at a talent agency, it's more or less the same thing. Dreams really do come true. The allure of living on a train with carnies, wearing sparkly costumes and getting to participate in a weekly elephant parade really appealed to me. I don't know why. 

From age six to ten I used to produce a backyard circus. I created the acts, strung together the music (it was the 90's so a good John Tesh or Yanni re-mix always worked well - - adding suspense to my dangerous circus stunts), my mom helped me make costumes, and I hired performers. By "hired performers" I mean I forced my brother and sister and cousins to be part of the show; and I didn't pay them. When you charge $2.50 for admission it's hard to turn a profit. Yes, I did charge admission for my own relatives. I would have charged for beverages if I could, but Maryland law suggested you had to be over sixteen years old to serve beer, so my plans for beverage service were scrapped. 

Come to think of it, I've always wanted to run a business. I had a front yard candy store. A backyard carnival (complete with recycled coke bottle toss, balloon darts and a little red wagon rollercoaster) and of course amazing live magic shows - starring me. How sad that later in life I would wind up poor and unmotivated and my entrepreneurial skills would be traded in for a rolodex, a broken keyboard and a head set.

My brother wasn't quite as acrobatic as I was, so he was basically a stage hand/extra. I think I may have given him a hula hoop and just said, "work something out". My sister was always quite the gymnast, so I would make her hang on to my hands while i was dangling from a makeshift trapeze set. Yes, you read that correctly. A trapeze set---in my backyard. My father haphazardly constructed a playground set and turned it into a trapeze set. It was more or less a couple of wood planks nailed to one of those Home Depot "build your own" swing sets. I rigged a trapeze to both ends of the planks. In retrospect, it was incredibly dangerous and I could have broken my neck at any moment. My parents however, loved me deeply,  so they just said, "go for it". I would perform all sorts of tricks - knee hangs, layouts, toe hangs and flips. I had been put in gymnastics at an early age and I knew my true calling was either trapeze or trampoline. For some reason my parents thought  a 14 foot high rusty trapeze set would be WAY safer than an enclosed trampoline. I'm still scratching my head about that one.

I was of course the star and producer of my own backyard circus. I made my dad be the ringmaster. There were a lot of faults with his performance.  First off, he wouldn't dress up as a ringmaster. No top hat. No sparkly red vest. Just his Tommy Bahama shirt, shorts and dockers. This was not the circus I envisioned in my head. I would get really mad anytime he went off-book, which, by the way, he did a lot. He would interrupt the script to go chug a beer or perhaps converse with my uncle about the price of plywood. He missed many cues and/or changed the lines.  He also refused to say some of the act announcements. As if announcing, "Elliott will now perform a one toe hang from the back of the porch, blindfolded and suspended 18 feet above the ground without a net" would somehow make him look like an irresponsible parent. Dad, you set up the trapeze yourself just two months ago and nailed in a 4X4 plywood beam as a trapeze rigging extension. What could possibly be dangerous about this? Besides, I was a fully trained circus professional (in my head). A toe hang suspended from the second story deck is perfectly normal behavior for an eight year old. The fact that I'm not currently a meth head, paraplegic ex- stuntman is somewhat miraculous to me.

Anyway, I bought the trapeze class as a Groupon. Groupons are great, except I would say about eighty percent of them raise eyebrows. Lasik surgery sounds like a great deal for two hundred dollars right? Until you realize the doctor is unlicensed and the office is actually in Inglewood. What could possibly go wrong? So, I walked into a house in a residential neighborhood only to discover my trapeze class would literally be held in a man's backyard. This guy Richie Gaona runs the place, he used to train D-List celebrities on Circus Of The Stars. That's right, when Brooke Shields, Charlene Tilton and Tracy Scoggins signed up to do a crooked backflip and humiliate themselves on national television during the 80's, Richie was the man responsible. Awesome! As you can guess, I was feeling super confident by this point. Not to mention, if one sets up a trapeze in his or her backyard, does the state regulate the equipment? Has Tyresha from circus inspection been around with her clip board? I'm not so sure. 

There were about 20 to 30 people taking class, so if I died, at least there would be an eye witness or two. I sat down at the backyard picnic table, signed my release forms, made funeral arrangements and opened my bible. I tried to remember the Lord's Prayer from Sunday school, but all I could remember was , "Our father who ranked in heaven, hollow be thy name. My kingdom come, thy will be done, with one nation invisible, with liberty and justice for all. Amen". That didn't seem right to me and I didn't want to offend any of the Catholics at the table so I quit praying and watched the students in the air. The good news was, the majority of people in class didn't seem like they were meant for an sort of aviation, except maybe via cargo plane. The clunky girls who had joined me at the table were busy deciding who was going to take the picture and what they would be ordering at the Cheesecake Factory for lunch. They couldn't have been less interested in actually doing a trick. So I decided I would give it a whirl. At least there was a net. In reality the whole set-up was probably one-thousand times safer than my jimmy-rigged backyard trapeze/fort playground combo. So there I went, up the ladder, and perched myself on the beam.

And I grabbed the bar. I let go, and I flew.The most amazing experience of my adult life. I haven't felt that feeling of complete joy and freedom since the credits rolled 18 fuckin' hours later at the end of The Tree Of Life.

Richie Gaona turned out to be a great trainer, it turns out Brooke Shields backflip probably wasn't crooked due his lackluster training, but more so due to her flamingo style torso. I absolutely loved the class and Richie was great. I will be back for more, provided I can somehow figure out how to price out selling my body in order to afford the sixty-five dollar per class price. So ready, set, hup. *hup is German for, "don't die, we don't have insurance"*

Real Housewives Of New Jersey (Season Four)

The Real Housewives Of NJ are back….

The real housewives of New Jersey are finally back for another season of righteous piety, peaceful family time, and philanthropic charity work. By charity work, I of course am referring to the joy they bring to millions of underprivileged, hard working Americans I.E. - Me.

First off, I'm really terrified to write this blog. It's perhaps the most dangerous thing I've done in my entire life, short of one time taking the Greyhound from D.C. To N.Y. But I only write about these woman because I'm afraid of them and I think by talking about them, it will help me conquer my fear. I very well may disappear shortly after this blog post. Please don't look for me, there is a good chance you will disappear too. Besides, I will have contributed nothing to this world except for a brief five minutes of hilarity about the denizens of the fine state of New Jersey.

In case you haven't seen the Real Housewives (RHONJ) in a while, this is a brief re-cap of what has happened the past season(s) as well as a character break down….

Theresa Guidice -  She's a woman who takes no prisoners. She takes no prisoners because  in the near future, she may very well be one. Her and her husband are in serious trouble with the law. Not like, "I forgot to pay my parking tickets" law, but more like "My husband may or may not have embezzled hundreds of thousands of dollars from his construction partner" law. Whoops. It happens. When you pay for everything in cash, it's hard to keep accurate bank records. But, no fear, because Theresa is a smart business woman, she will prevail. She used to work at Macy's, specialized in furs and pumps and she's written a couple of best selling cookbooks. She also also devoted to charity work and has gone on a national tour to promote illiteracy in public schools.

Theresa is "large and in charge" and gets fashion advice from Betty Rubble. Seriously, she is always wearing leopard, or tiger, or panther,  or manatee. Most of the animals she wears are extinct. I'm positive the Smithsonian has a warrant out for her arrest. SHE LOVES ANIMAL PRINT. THE MORE ENDANGERED, THE BETTER.  If Theresa could have a scarf made out of Albino Panda Bears, she would. Equally impressive is her ability to flip a table. She can flip a table faster than a waiter at  Rainforest Café during Sunday brunch. She is the Mary Lou Retton of table flipping. She also is fond of the expression, "you's alls". I'm not sure entirely what it means, I'm still researching.

She has four sideshow circus children - Gia, Gabriella, Millania and Audriana.  I believe her children are named after the daughters of Triton in "The Little Mermaid". Disney should look into this. Her first child, Millania, is a trained Italian gymnast who can do the unthinkable – a cartwheel with one hand. I'm sure she's won a medal for it, which she has since bedazzled. Gabriella, her second child, is a "runway model", whom I wish would walk the runway at Newark Int. Gia, the third child, likes to scream a lot and excels in language arts, with a concentration in S.A.T. vocabulary like "poopy head", and "stupid poopy head". Audriana, Theresa's fourth child, is a baby and is too young to notice that she will probably be carted away by CPS and put in an orphanage within a couple months. Audriana will soon be the Italian Annie. Theresa's fifth child is her meat head husband Joe.

As I mentioned, Theresa is married to this meat head named Joe. He's a really nice guy. He is especially kind to women. In New Jersey I believe it state custom to greet your wife with a closed fist while saying, "Shut the fuck up". It's a Jersey thing. Joe is referred to as "Juicy" on the show, this is because he's pumped full of illegal steroids. He also has chronic diarrhea, which I'm assuming can only be a result of Theresa's cooking.

Caroline Manzo – Matriarch and stable Mabel. Caroline is deadly serious all the time. I don't think I've ever seen her laugh. Caroline Manzo could be on Space Mountain at Disney World and she'd still be miserable. But I love her anyway. She's got a big family and is fiercely protective of her sisters and her kids. She's currently going through "the change". She's in denial though. It's like that episode of the "Golden Girls" when Blanche thinks she's pregnant and she's actually just going through menopause and no one can convince her otherwise. Caroline's got hot flashes, headaches and a short temper. Her doctor tells her she's experiencing symptoms of menopause. Naturally, because of her optimistic disposition, instead she thinks she has a brain tumor. Caroline has a radio show during which she deals out provocative sage advice: 
Advice like….Is it okay to wear white seal fur after labor day? Does the NJ turnpike require trunk inspection? If you want to be an Italian chef at the Olive Garden, do you really need to go to Florence for training? 

Kathie Wakile – She's a delightful woman married to that dentist from Little Shop Of Horrors. I enjoy her immensely, she's sweet and her children are well adjusted for having suffered the tragedy of growing up in New Jersey. She owns a catering business that Theresa claims she stole all the recipes from Theresa's mother.

Jacqueline Laurita – In case you forgot/never knew, Jacqueline used to be friends with the infamous Danielle Staub. AKA Danielle Stab. Danielle was the Komodo-Dragon-faced lady who allegedly kidnapped a bunch of Guadalupan kids and sold them for turquoise jewelry (something like that).

In season one, Theresa flipped a table on Danielle and called a "bleep bleep prostitution whore!". Danielle hung out with jail bait, liked to dance (aka strip), and her snatch was filled with coke...allegedly. The fight between Theresa and Danielle Staub remains one of the greatest moments in television history. Anyway, Danielle has since retired to a condo in Florida where she writes lesbian love songs which grace the airwaves of many NJ community college radio stations. 

Jacqueline has a problem child named Ashlee. Ashlee has the ambition of a koala with Down Syndrome. She lives at home, doesn't work, dyes her hair different colors and goes for mani-pedis and bi-weekly tramp stamps. Yep, she is a real housewife in the making. You may remember in season two Ashlee went to court because she pulled Danielle Staub's wig off during a fight at Caroline's supper club. I'm not sure if she went to jail, but I really wish she was in lock down right now. Actually, scratch that; Ashlee would probably enjoy prison, in jail employment is optional, not mandatory (or so I'm told). Jacqueline and her husband keep kicking her out of the house, yet, like a horsey faced harlot to water, she keeps on coming back.

Ashlee...

Melissa Gorga - Melissa is married to another clown named Joe (surprise) but, according to reports he's not as juicy as Theresa's Juicy. Melissa's a "pop singer" who's hit song is called "On Display". Here are the lyrics to the chorus in case you were interested....

Cause I’m on display, on display, on display
Each and every day, every day, every day
Everybody’s waiting on me to fall
Everybody’s waiting on me to crawl but they can keep on
(Waiting on me, Waiting on me, Waiting on me to fall) REPEAT 4 TIMES


On Display


What is with every housewife becoming a pop singer? My mom stayed at home all day every day for six years and never once did she write a lesbian love song or a mix a dance single. C'mon mom, put down the bottle and start singin'! If Countess Tranann can write a pop song consisting of made up French catchphrases you can too.

So if you aren't watching you need to tune in. If nothing else, your vocabulary will extensively improve. Also you could learn some kick-ass table flipping moves. 

Insanity Interrupted

The other night I was working out in my apartment when the landlady in my life, Mrs. Esther, came jaunting up the hallway stairs and burst into my apartment. Jaunting is probably the wrong verb; Mrs. Esther smokes two packs a day and the last time she jaunted anywhere is probably when they made her do track and field in gym class during the 1920's. And even then, she probably had to stop for a cigarette break between hurdles. Okay, Esther didn't technically burst in, she just stood in the doorway lecturing me about the evils of exercise. Apparently, I was disturbing the downstairs neighbors during my jumping jacks. She kept droning on and on and on. It was like my blog. I felt like I was eleven years old again, listening to my drunk mom lecture me about using sidewalk chalk on the neighbors driveway. So what if Mrs. Goldstein had pictures of boobies all over her driveway? It's called a welcome home gift!


Anyway, there I was in my short-shorts and 6th grade "Jaguars Reach For The Top" tee-shirt performing calisthenics when Esther bombed my apartment. She was screaming, "You can't do that!". I said, "Can't do what?". She replied, "You can't do THAT!". She was crazy and she kept on screaming, "You can't do that". And then she ran into my knife. She ran into my knife ten times! That part didn't happen. But, I wish I had had a knife because at that very moment I seriously considered stabbing her. I had actually just stocked up the day before on bleach. I had used a $.50 off coupon at Target. I could stab her and clean up the body for $1.39. The people in the building and probably the police and social security would throw me a congratulatory party. I would in fact earn a medal for doing service to the community. These are the terrible thoughts that ran through my head while she was yelling at me. I'm not a violent person but, at that very moment, in my head, I was tracing a chalk outline around her body.


Esther berated me for a good ten minutes and told me that jumping jacks were unacceptable and that I was bothering the Millers, the neighbors below me. I exclaimed it was 7:30 p.m. on a Friday. I wasn't tap dancing, I wasn't blaring music, I was doing jumping jacks in the privacy of my own home. She told me I was no longer allowed to work out in my apartment. I told her that she needed to stop working out in her apartment. She said, "I don't", and I screamed, "I can tell!"


She told me that I had to go outside on the street or go down to the pool patio. Yes, she actually suggested I do P90X on the pool patio. Is she on drugs? I can't imagine that freak show .That's just what I need on you tube. You know the neighbors would be filming that shit. I know I would. My skinny ass in short shorts by the malaria-laced swimming pool doing P90x jumps with a Liza Minnelli mix CD playing as background music. You'd be surprised how well "All That Jazz" goes with sequential front-side lunges. I'm not above embarrassing myself for a bit of comedy, but P90x at the pool in front of my entire building is crossing a line. Not to mention, being the hottest person by far in my building, I don't want to intimidate anyone.


Esther actually told me Rose Miller thought she was having an earthquake. Really? She thought it was an earthquake? Did she think there was an earthquake every day for the past 365 days when I was working out? This must be a new type an earthquake. An "above ground" earthquake. One that happens only in your ceiling and only around 7 p.m. Monday through Saturday. She should check in with the local geologist about that one. What an idiot. Esther also yelled at me for taking up ten minutes of her time arguing about my workout routine. This, coming from the woman who last week stopped me in the hallway and lectured me for twenty minutes because my roommate got stuck in the elevator and she thought he did it on purpose to get attention.


After yelling back and forth for ten minutes I took a breath and told her I would go talk to the neighbors myself. She looked at me through her thick, black glasses and said blankly, "What's that gonna do?". Esther apparently thought I was going to downstairs to negotiate with North Korea.


Let me explain.


The Millers have lived in the building since the 70's. They are very sweet and very old and they have a dog that should be put down. Yet, I marched down there to play nice and sweet talk them. Despite all my bitter quips and snarky sass, I think that by just talking to people like human beings and telling them the truth, you'll usually get positive results. Naturally I told the Millers I had hemophilia and exercise was the only cure. Sure enough they agreed to let me continue on my journey of fat burning, personal torture and disappointment. A little honesty and kindness sometime goes a long way.


I am now giving Esther the silent treatment. It's been a glorious few days. I can't wait to see her again so I can not talk to her. It will be the highlight of my week, possibly my month.

Celebrity Apprentice

Celebrity Apprentice is the greatest game show in the history of television. I love it so much I've chosen to endorse it on my blog, which I'll have you know, is read by 10's of people. This season is undoubtedly the best Celebrity Apprentice yet. To be honest, I do miss the season where it was Melissa Rivers vs. Joan Rivers vs. Annie Duke, but this season is a close second. By the way, Annie Duke's real name is actually Anne LaBarr Lederer. I LOVE when people change their name to match their profession. Anne’s name change is like when a porn star changes his or her name to match the skill they excel at (IE: Seymore Butts, Syla Foxxx, or Mandingo). If I changed my name to match my profession it would be Elliott Sassy Slave. This is in no way related to my drag name, Alotta Mosquitas.


Back on topic, I'm just going to give a brief rundown of the cast mates of Celebrity Apprentice (many of whom have already been eliminated). I'm going to try and keep my list fairly spoiler free in case anyone is watching the season in re-run…..

Donald Trump – Professional Businessman/Clown. Enjoys wigs. Likes to feel cool wind blowing through his goldilocks. Loves cash and things made of gold. Master Chauvinist and Master Of Ceremonies. Pits contestants against each other (not that they need much help). Has three spoiled children, two boys and one girl. Enjoys trumpets playing when he enters any room.

“Trumpeteers” (Donald Trump's kids) - Ivanka, Donald Jr. and Eric. These children would inevitably drown in the chocolate river or go down the bad egg chute if they were at Wonka's factory. Ivanka is the adjusted one and she's actually quite pretty and smart (for a “Trumpeteer”). Eric and Donald Jr. enjoy hair grease, douchebaggery and fake tits.

Clay Aiken aka Clay Gayken - Runner up of American Idol who has a hyper intense following of fans called "Claymates". Claymates are middle aged, Southern, Christian woman, who are convinced that Clay's not really gay, it's just a phase. Side note - His 2003 hit album is called "Measure Of A Man" (and we all know what that means). Lately, he's been looking a little rough, his face kinda looks like clay that hasn't quite hit the kiln.

Michael Andretti - Retired race car driver. He's on the show by default. Apparently Michael's son was supposed to be a contestant but, there was some sort of snag so now Michael is on. For the first four episodes, I thought he was an extra. His charity is called "Racing For Cancer". The worst possible name for a charity EVER. I'm sure he came up with it.

Adam Carolla - Professional Tool bag who used to host "The Man Show". I actually really enjoy him; he was always sassy to Donald. He makes fun of Donald directly to his face, whenever Donald says something stupid (every other scripted line).

Arsenio Hall – Token black guy. Comedian. Probably been tapped off the stage at the Apollo once or twice. He's a nice guy seemingly, until he loses his shit on Aubrey O' Day. Then, we learn he isn't so nice after all.

Aubrey O' Day – Cousin to Rainbow Brite. I don't really know who she is, neither does anyoneelse (despite the fact she claims she most famous celebrity on the show). A woman of many ideas. Bad ideas.

Lou Ferrigno – The Incredible Hulk of disabled people. He's partially deaf and no one can understand him and yet he thinks he's Winston Churchill. Love child of Arnold Schwarzenegger and Helen Keller.

Paul Teutul Sr. – He's on some manly show called American Chopper. I assumed at first American Chopper was about crudités, but turns out it actually about motorcycles. Not interested. He's sweet though.

Theresa Giudice – NJ Housewife, chef, table flipper. Donald keeps pronouncing her name “TER-RAY-SAH” even though everyone else on the show clearly pronounces her name as  “THE-REE-SA”. Has three circus freak daughters and a meat head husband, "Juicy". Will trade her charity money in for cash so she can use it to pay her foreclosure. I love Theresa even though she's a danger to society.

Debbie Gibson– Fizzled Pop star. Her name sounds like an ice cream flavor. "Go to Seven Eleven, pick up some tampons, US weekly and a pint of Debbie Gibson". She's just called Deb. Aubrey says she can't sing (surprise).

Lisa Lampanelli – Wisecracking comedian and potty mouth. The queen of mean. Insult comic. Possibly my long lost mother; I'm checking into it on familytree.com. She may win. Her charity is "Save the Children, Just Not The Black Ones."

Penn Teller – Huge ass magician. Frankenstein with a wand instead of a bolt. Has a show called "Bull Shit" which I think is a documentary on Obama-care. I love Penn. He's a cool cat.

Victoria Gotti – Co-Star of "The Sopranos". They spin her as"author". By author, they mean she's penned many a ransom notes in blood. I think her and Theresa are related. Every other contestant is terrified Victoria will have them murdered (and they are probably right). Wouldn't that be awesome if she won by just killing off the other contestants one by one?….


Donald -"Where's Penn, he was supposed to be selling celebrity sandwiches?"
Victoria -"I made him disappear (chuckles to herself)”.

Cheryl Tiegs – Former supermodel who peaked in the 1800's. She was great modeling the original pilgrim tube top.

Patricia Velasquez – ESL student, actress. Oscar nominee for the Spanish independent film, "Puedo Ir El Baño?"

Tia Carrere – Pouty Actress/Vanessa Williams' stunt woman/stand in for Vanessa Williams.

Dee Snider – Rock Star who manages to break his finger in half while performing at Medieval times. That last part sounds like a joke, it's not.

George Takei/George Toogay – The gay guy who was on the original Star Trek. If any cast member was to hire a prostitute, it would be George Takei. He's probably at the Webb (Asian Gay bar) right now purchasing a young boy named Sue. His lazy 's' and slow speech coupled with an extensive use of S.A.T. vocabulary will cripple him.

Dayana Mendoza – Miss Universe Contestant/Possible Genius. Everyone thinks she's an idiot, yet she seems like the under-dog…or just a dog.


If you aren't watching you seriously need to tune in. The backstabbing, Clay Vs. Penn, Dee Vs. Medieval Times, Deana vs. English. The show is for a good cause and the money earned goes to charity. It airs on Sundays, the Lords day. If anything will bring you closer to God or make you feel better about yourself, it's the Trump. This is the man who sells bottled water at Macy's called "Trump Water". Don't buy it; it actually dehydrates you and causes ego inflation and hair loss. Just tune in, trust me.

Blind Ambition

I wouldn't normally write a blog post about someone specific unless I knew for certain that they would never see it. But, after facing many sleepless nights due to fits of RAGE, I have decided to dedicate this lovely blog post to my land lady Ms. Esther. I'm quite sure Ms. Esther won't be reading this because she doesn't have internet or email. In fact, she doesn't even have an answering machine because "the government could be listening". Yes, that is correct, "the government could be listening". Dear Esther, what are you hiding that would be of ANY interest to the government? The lack of a current annual elevator inspection certificate? The disconcerting fact that the water in our pool is a enigmatic shade of swamp green/smokers teeth that doesn't occur in nature? Are you worried about the girls living in 204 who are actually hookers posing as music students? Esther, they don't care, trust me. Have you read the newspaper recently? No government official anywhere is ever going to have a problem with a hooker.

When your 85 year old Jewish landlady's name is Ms. Esther, it is a sitcom just writing itself. I knew she'd be a constant source of both aggravation and hilarity from our very first encounter. The first words she ever spoke to me were, "Are you a Jew?" I didn't know how to respond, so I just said, "I once played a matzoh ball in my pre-school production of Shalom Sabot". She didn't laugh and she's been suspicious of me ever since. I remember after about a month living at the apartment, I was coming back from vacation and she accosted me from her balcony. She is the Jewish Evita. She asked me, "There were some people on the roof---and they were drunk----and they were naked, do you know who it was?" I told her, I had no idea, but next time it happens please let me know because I would love to join them. Again, no hilarious laughter from Esther, not even a chortle. I, In fact, knew exactly who it was. It was a very attractive but somewhat dizzy boy named Todd (who lived in 409) and his gang of gregarious gays. I certainly wasn't going to report my sexy neighbors to Esther, especially considering one day if I was sociable enough and tricked Todd into thinking I was nice, I could probably weasel my way into getting an invitation to a midnight rooftop romp.

The twist of the entire Esther saga is that last week I found out (via my lovely neighbor Peter) that Esther is actually only in her early sixties. I was shocked at this revelation. SHE'S ONLY 62!? WHAT?!? I, for a brief time, had convinced myself that Esther was actually Elie Weisel's grandmother. The shock was similar to when I found out via IMDB that Blake Lively is only 24 (I had guessed around 41 or 42). Esther's a lady with a big heart, but she thinks I'm some sort of ungrateful, smart ass, mouthy hooligan. She's only half right. Recently, I have had an issue with my living room blinds which has rendered me quite testy…..

After a recent run-in with her, I'm really quite agitated with her and I'm looking for a little sympathy. I've been trying to get my living room, plastic, thirty-dollar blinds replaced for three weeks now. Ms. Esther believes that because I don't have a degree in engineering and I enjoy making her sweat I probably broke them myself. Well the truth is, that they fell down because they are old and cheap, like you Esther. A month ago Esther broke into my apartment while I was in the shower, she cornered me as I was drying off, and she gave me a twenty minute lecture on how to open blinds correctly. She kept saying "you gotta make sure they're all facing the right direction". Thank you Ms. Esther on the lesson in advanced aerodynamics. She was was talking to me like I was a half-naked, drunk carnival worker who's job it was to assemble the tilt-a-whirl at the county fair. Esther is in fact, outside my door right now, still giving that lecture, even though it's six days later and I'm at work. This lecture coming from the woman who told me not to put Draino down the sink because "it damages the pipes". Who told you that? I'm guessing a plumber. Esther at one point actually even suggested that I turn the blinds upside-down and punch holes in them rather than making management buy new ones. Can't make it up! Turning the blinds upside down and punching holes in them is possibly the most dumb fuck, cheap, Jewy ass idea I've ever heard.

It's now Monday almost a week later. My blinds still won't open and another one has fallen down. PS if you live in my building and tell Esther about this entry I will pump our nasty-ass, swampy pool water into your apartment until you drown in your sleep. Have a good one.

The Hunger Games- My Review

WARNING – THIS REVIEW CONTAINS SPOILERS, ALTHOUGH NOTHING DAMAGING ENOUGH TO RUIN THE MOVIE…..

I finally caved in and saw "The Hunger Games". I have to say, after hearing all the buzz, I was really looking forward to seeing it. Did it live up the the hype? Meh. I think watching a gang shootout in East Detroit via Skype would have be more suspenseful. I can't say I was ever bored, but I also can't say that found it to be intense. That PG13 rating totally ruined it for me, I wish it was grittier.

The movie is set in a distant future in a country ruled by a bunch of totalitarian aristocrats who think kids killing other kids is HILARIOUS. I guess this is what happens when the DARE program fails. This evil dictatorship has completely stripped the country of it's resources, and, as a result, classes are divided into rich and dirt poor. It's similar to the story of America, except in this future they have national high speed rail access. The rich folks live in an "Oz-like", illustrious city, where it's residents enjoy Mac cosmetics, the color purple, and eating lamb chops. I swear to God, every other scene was a shot of some rich bitch eating a lamb chop. Outside the magical city of Oz, the population is divided up into twelve broke ass districts, each one worse than the last. The worst one I'm assuming is district 8, which is kinda like Harlem. The poor are forced to work in factories assembling IPADS, eat squirrel for dinner and spend their Sundays training their kids in the art of "fuckin' up a bitch". Once their kid grows pubes, he or she will be entered in a raffle to play "The Hunger Games". The Hunger Games is a nationally televised event where hormonal teens must battle each other to the death using only hand to hand combat or emotional backstabbing. The rich bitches in the city of OZ see it as sport. Twenty-four kids from twelve districts go in, only one comes out alive. It's like "Survivor", except Elisabeth Hasselbeck isn't there telling everyone what to do.

The kids are taken to Oz via high speed rail and trained for a few days in Zoomba and Karate. During training, they are put up at the Four Seasons where the kids have their own maids, spiritual advisers and fashion consultants. After several days practicing how to throw ninja turtle weapons and mastering the art of operating a reversible kimono, the poor kids are thrown into a virtual arena in order to battle to the death. The arena is a nasty forest filled with angry bees, asteroids, forest fires and bear pig dogs. With the push of a single button from a featured day player, the forest environment can change dramatically. It's all very upsetting and if I were in the Hunger Games I'd be dead within minutes. I remember when I was forced to play paintball once. Within 3 minutes I was a walking advertisement for Benjamin Moore.

My notes on the cast -

Jennifer Lawrence is a hot tamale and she's quite good at actressing. I also like how proficient she is at killing and skinning animals. In "Winter's Bone" she could have opened up a taxidermy shop and made thousands and moved out of that shit hole town! In the Hunger Games she STILL hasn't opened that shop and she's STILL poor. Dumb bitch. She does sacrifice herself for her sister after her sister is initially chosen to be a contestant in The Hunger Games; kinda cute. All in all though, she's a bad ass chick and she'll cut ya.

The male lead, Josh Hutcherson, is delicious, and gets to hide out in the woods because it turns out he's a pansy ass baker. That is correct. He's able to hide in the woods because he can camouflage himself using skills he learned in cake decorating classs.? I was confused by this. Sadly, sugar and flour only get you so far when 23 teenage savages are hunting your ass down.

Woody Harrelson was quite outstanding as the snug, drunk bastard who doles out snarky advice to anyone who will listen. Type cast much?

Stanley Tucci was quite serviceable, doing his best Wendy Williams impersonation as the master of ceremonies. He has a lot of purple hair in the movie and he's orange. I didn't recognize him at first. He looks like that Oompa Loompa from the re-make of Charlie And The Chocolate Factory. I didn't know it was him until the credits rolled. The entire time I kept thinking, "What the fuck is that midgets name?" Turns out, if wasn't a midget after all. It was just Stanley Tucci, in orange face. Who knew?

Supporting cast (aka the bitches who are gonna die in the woods) - The remaining Hunger Game kids were all fine, except that they were all basically glorified extras. As an audience member we didn't get to know anyone except for a little black girl named Willow. Actually, I don't know if her name was Willow. I just assumed it was Will Smith's daughter who had somehow weaseled her way into the movie. Actually, I think her real name is Amandla Stenberg. AMANDLA! Yes, Amandla. A-MAND-LA. When she was in the hospital I'd imagine the conversation went like this.…

White Nurse - Oh my gosh, she's adorable, what's her name?

Mom – Amandla.

White Nurse – Amanda?

Mom – No, Amandla.

White Nurse – Amandla?

Mom – You got a problem?

White Nurse – No, no. I'll see you later. (Exits room) Ugggh….TYPICAL

So, "Amandla" was pretty cute. I would adopt her if I could.

I will rent the Hunger Games when it comes out on DVD. I found it to be enjoyable, but unremarkable. I get it. I get the craze. It's a movie made for teenagers that adults without a BA could enjoy too. There aren't any vampires or werewolves so that's a plus, but there's also no chestal nudity --- sad times. I'd give it a solid "B". Go see it on a rainy day. It also made me want lamb chops---real bad.