Out of Body Experience experiences, anyone?

Do you believe in out of body experiences? I've talked to two people who say they have had them. One of those people was a sort of wacky relative of mine, and my instincts tell me I shouldn't believe her, because she seems like the type of person who is just goofy enough to have misinterpreted a dream as an out of body experience. However, perhaps she's just wacky enough that she would have the crazy kind of brain to allow something as insane-sounding as that to happen. Of course, she could have hallucinated the whole thing, and just thought it was real. Acid hallucinations can be very intense, and I'm sure crazy hallucinations are very real seeming as well. I don't know if she's ever tried acid, as a matter of fact, I highly doubt it. But, they can be intense. I speak from experience. From reading about it in books.

The other person who told me she had an out of body experience was a totally normal person. It shocked me when she told me that. It was like, "I thought I knew you, then you go and tell me something like this, and now I'm not sure you're as normal as I thought you were." I've known her for about two years, and the whole time I've known her, she has never done or said anything to make me think she's nutty, or koo koo, or even ditzy. She seems very smart and of sound body and mind. But the way she described it, it almost sounded like she herself wasn't unsure that she might have been dreaming.

I'd think if anyone would be having an out of body experience, it'd be me, on account of all the hallucinogenic drugs I've sampled, and not to mention, I'm an artist, kind of a strange personality and all, and I'd think that I would have at least hallucinated some kind of bizarre thing like that by now. But I haven't even had one lousy flash back, much less any out of body experiences. I've had a few panic attacks, but that's about as crazy as it gets around here. I'd think I'd be a prime candidate for some kooky unexplained phenomenons - I'm up for that kind of shenanigan. I'm up for seeing a ghost, I'm up for floating around town, causing trouble while my body sleeps. I'd write a song about it or something.

Mmmm, on second thought, I don't know if I'd want to see a ghost. I'd probably take a pooper right in my pants. I'm even scared by those really cheesy phony baloney horror movies, like, the ones where the bad guy wears a hockey mask (spooky!) and runs around chopping people's faces off with his long fingernails. I'm sure if some ghost came to visit me, it'd be the scary kind, with one eye ball dangling down and half his ear hanging off, a bloody scalp with half his brain sticking out, like Paxcal in Pet Sematary, one of the scariest movies ever! (It's misspelled on purpose, because in the movie, the sign was supposed to have been written by a child.)

I guess it doesn't have to happen in real life for me to write a song about it. I'd call the song, "Hey Ghosts, Please don't visit me."

Hey ghosts - I don't want no visitors
I don't need no supernatural inquisitors
Grandpa, I miss ya
But I wouldn't want to kiss ya...

Has anyone out there who is not completely insane had an out of body experience? I'd like to hear accounts from Wall Street types and Harvard Grads, perhaps a Brain surgeon or a police officer...not to say that these people can't be insane, they're often even more unusual than they would like to have the rest of the world believe, it's just that it's always artists and mind readers having supernatural experiences.

Well? Anyone normal out there experience anything abnormal?

I'm watching figure skating...

...and the commentators are such dink anuses.

The commentators are such fair-weather friends - when the skaters are doing well, they are all up in their crotches. When they aren't doing well, they start getting all psychoanalytical on their asses, totally cutting them down, but doing it in an eloquent-sounding way that is OK, because it's on TV. If there were people at an ice skating practice just shanking a bunch of teenage girls ice skating, they'd get their asses kicked. TV makes everything okay.

It's amazing to me that these gals can even do this shit with their body, let alone do it on ice. They do things with their bodies that I can't even do with my imagination.

The skaters are doing amazing, awe-inspiring movements that human bodies were probably never even meant to be able to do. The one Japanese chick, Shizuki, just completely rocked it, without even making one mistake. They called it a "clean presentation". Shouldn't everyone in the theater line up to place their lips upon her anus? She can jump four feet into the air with ice skates on, going about 35 miles per hour, and then land on fucking ICE! What ELSE can she do? She can probably also fly and eat fire. And the announcers say things like, "It was a good quality performance, it is beatable".

They remind me of my parents. "I know you can do better," they'd sometimes say. Oh, yeah? How the hell do you know, MOM?

Maybe the ice skater's routine being absolutely perfect is as good as it's going to get! Deal with it!

I can't help but notice the similarities in ice skating and go go dancing. There's lots of gawking, I, like everyone, I'm sure, can't help but stare at these half-naked hot chicks like they are freaks. Even as I try to write, my eyes keep going back to the TV. And they keep doing these moves where the girls totally super spread their legs, holding one leg up very high, exposing their young crotch mounds to the entire free world. No dollars in G strings, that is one very clear difference.

"She has a sort of concerned look on her face," he says of a 16 year old asian ice magician who has just gotten marks for her routine which put her in third place. If he had a sense of humor, he might add, "Probably because she knows if she doesn't take a medal home, she will be forced to commit suicide." But it never comes. Instead, we just hear the sounds of him eating donuts into the microphone.

Amazing women! I mean, teens!

Now this russian chick is dancing to spanish music - insert race-related joke here. This russian chick is kicking ass! The audience is cheering her like she is the queen of England, and the announcer says, "It's a little off." She's absolutely spectacular. I would make a horrible commentator, because the whole time, I'd just be saying, WOW! FUCKING WOW! WOW! HOLY SHIT! WOW! Did you SEE THAT??? JESUS H! MOTHER FUCKER!

DAMN! She just landed right on her ass. She was doing so good. She was the only one who even had half a chance of beating the bad ass Japanese chick with the perfect, or as the commentators say, "quality, clean" performance. It must suck to lose something so precious by doing something as clumsy as falling on your ass.

The perfect asian chick's nick name is "cool fire" or something. She has complete poker face. She won the first gold medal for Japan ever in Olympic figure skating.

They will be the next USA.

It's sad to see a pretty little face get bent up at "only winning a bronze".

What a tough gig! And I thought stand-up comedy was a shit fest.

TV is run by aliens.

CXB IN JAIL AGAIN, this time maybe for a long while...

Hello Friends

If you could, please list any or all of this anywhere possible, and please participate:

Political activist and notorious gadfly/performance jokester Christopher X. Brodeur (aka Touching You, known for his involvement in The Liquid Tapedeck and Mr. Brooke Shields of Haunted Pussy) has been found guilty on 21 counts of various levels of harrassment. All of the specifics of the case are not available, but these details are:

** His charges of harrassment and aggrivated harrassment (regarding annoying and sometimes seemingly aggressive calls he made) is a misdemeanor charge. Though Christopher has no prior record of violent crime and has obeyed every restraining order ever placed against him, he was remanded immediately, which means he was taken to jail on the spot once he received a guilty verdict. Many people in his position would be let go until the next court date to get sentenced. Even though his sentencing date was set for March 8th, he was refused bail (though there was already bail on this case) and taken immediately to jail to be subject to now a THIRD psychological evaluation. This is not a 730 remand psychiatric evaluation, this is a judge-ordered psychiatric evaluation to determine how to "best sentence Christopher".

Each of the 21 counts holds a maximum sentence of 1 year, so essentially, he is looking at 21 years in jail. He *probably* won't get that many years, but he technically could. It's likely he will get sentenced a few years, though, with probation to follow. A FEW YEARS in JAIL!!?? For SPEAKING???????????? That seems unreasonably harsh.

WE ARE ASKING ANYONE who has been touched or affected by Christopher's thousands of various art, musical and political projects over his 15 years in NYC to please consider doing one or more of the following things, #s 1 and 2 being the MOST important, 1 being the MOST important of all.

1. Please write Judge Neil Ross a postcard or letter explaining that you know Christopher to be a harmless and beneficial artist, musician and politician if you find this to be true. If you have a project involving Christopher coming up, such as a show where he was scheduled to perform or work, please mention it. If you voted for him when he ran for mayor, please mention that. If you respect him or his work in any capacity, please mention that. Please mention that you do not know Christopher to be a violent person if that is your experience, and anything relating to that. Note that Christopher has been a Lower East Side resident and artist creating positive and imaginative art for the past 15 years, if you know this to be true. Please ask that Christopher be given probation or community service instead of having to do jail time. Mention that many violent criminals don't have to do jail time. Mention that you don't want YOUR tax dollars being spent imprisoning artists. Please do not insult the judge or the courts, even though it might be tempting. If you will write a letter or postcard, please do it ASAP and send it to:

Judge Neil Ross
c/o 100 Center St.
NY, NY 10007

On any piece of mail sent to the judge, please write on it somewhere FREE CXB or FREE CHRISTOPHER X. BRODEUR or something to that effect. Please ask three friends to do the same. List this on your blog and forward it to anyone you know who cares about free speech. This will only take a moment and only costs one stamp. Please do this if you can.

2. PLEASE come to Christopher's court date on March 8th. It is important that the judge and court see that Christopher is a member of a community of artists and activists and that he is appreciated and loved. Yes, you might have to get up early, and be in criminal court at 100 Center St. at 9:45 am. If you can't get there that early, just come a little later.

3. If you know a lawyer, a powerful person with activism or free speech interests, a group of people who somehow want to get involved in this cause or are a friend of Christopher's, please forward this message, put it on your website, print it out, copy it and leave it on bus seats. Please help keep freedom alive. This may seem small and insignificant, but it is part of a much larger liberty that we all MUST hold dear and protect, or we will LOSE it. If you know Christopher, you know him to SPEAK his mind. This is a right we have, but we are losing that right more and more every day. Remember, he is in JAIL (currently he is in the TOMBS, to be transported to RIKER'S ISLAND(!!!) possibly for MANY YEARS, because of WORDS HE SAID.

4. Visit www.mayorbrodeur.org if you are not familiar with Christopher X. Brodeur.

Please forgive me if this seems a bit disjointed, I watched freedom's throat get slashed today and bleed all over the floor in open court. Please send any email correspondence to jessdelfino@yahoo.com.

THANK YOU dearly.
917-450-4178

Where That Joke Came From
by Jessica Delfino

The best jokes have a little bit of truth and back story to them. Here is the story of the joke I tell about a guy in college who would never have sex with me - a joke which I still tell to this day. In the joke, I am the hero, winning the argument with a quippy line. In real life, it was rather traumatizing.

I met Justin (name has been left the same in hopes that the maximum amount of humiliation possible is had on his part) while studying animation at the Art School I went to in Philadelphia. He was a cute guy - kind of hip hoppy-ish, not the kind of guy I'd probably "typically" date. He drew graffiti-style art and cartoons and wore very baggy pants. He was a skinny white guy with short, dark hair and cute, puppy boy eyes. He tawked with a kind of New Yoowk accent that I didn't recognize as a New Yoowk accent at the time. I'd never been to New Yoowk.

He said he was from Lowng Island, which he also called Strowng Island to show how awesome and strowng he was.

We started talking during class and somehow over the course of the next few months, developed a casual, friendly relationship. Things took a turn for the fun when he invited me over to his apartment one early evening for dinner and to hang out.

When he told me that he had a girlfriend named Jessica before me whom things had gone horribly wrong with, I should have taken that as a clue of what to expect. But when it comes to clues and signs, I see them, acknowledge them, and then I cruise right by them, stopping only briefly to give that sign the finger.

I would go to his apartment every few days or so after school, a willing parcipitant in a game he invented which went something like this: We'd kiss for a long time. He'd tell me how beautiful I was. He'd remove articles of my clothing, one by one staying completely dressed, himself! (Clue #2 - ignored!) He'd get me completely naked and marvel at how beautiful my body was. He'd then yawn and say he had a big morning and had to get to sleep early. I'd get dressed in shame and walk myself to the train. It was always awkward and stupid, and yet, I kept going back for more.

Finally one night after this had been going on for about 4 months or so, he invited me over to his friend's house to hang out. There, his friend had many lines of "special k" laid out on the table for the two of them to enjoy. I was invited to share in the fun, but I opted out. I'd done enough acid for all of Philadelphia and was still recovering from the after-effects and experiencing random flash-backs.

But a bell rang in my head - perhaps his weiner was broken? I would think that if the stuff could tranquilize a horse, it surely could pack enough of a punch to render a fuckstick useless. Later, we went back to his apartment and went through the ritual. First, he took off all my clothes, but this time, he actually let me sleep over and tried to consumate our, um..., like. But his poor penis was out like a light. And soon after, we followed suit.

To make a long, boring story as short as possible, he set me up one night. He brought me back over to his friend's house, hung out for a bit and then left me there. I could feel where it was all leading. I'd mentioned his friend was cute (when he asked me!) and he kept insisting his friend thought I was cute, too. I hated Justin's shenanigans and his inability to be honest with me on almost any front. So, to spite him, or rather, to indulge him, when he left, I made out with his buddy. I knew he'd tell Justin and Justin would "break up" with me. And that is exactly what happened.

And that is the end of that.

Though the experience was sordid and littered with Bob Seger-like night move lust and half-hazard emotion, I rejoice in it, for it inspired the hit joke, a bastardized clipping of the above, elongated tale:

I used to date this guy in Philadelphia. He'd never have sex with me, and it hurt me so badly, because I thought he was "the one" - I thought we were going to get married and everything. So, eventually, I decided I should talk to him about this. I went to his house, knocked on the door and said, "Listen. We've been going out now for like, a week..., and I feel like this whole time, I've been washing my ass for nothing."

I don't "normally" do this, but I wanted to plug this on my website, because this was SO MUCH FUN last time I'm still sighing in delight upon contemplation of the memories it left within me...

Come to this if you can - it's mostly good for chicks, but dudes might dig it as well...especially the cool ones. Here's a tip for the guys: it will be a veritable chick feast! If you can't pick up a nice shirt, you might very well pick up a honey!

And...I'll be performing!



Rain, Snow or Alien Abduction
Swap-O-Rama-Rama is this Sunday

In keeping with the artwork on the Swap-O-Rama-Rama winter flyer the snowflakes will be joining us. Any x-raver will tell you that an event is only as good as the obstacles to get there. Luckily we're two short blocks from the L train (there are no L line closings this weekend) and the snow is expected to behind us by Sunday morning. So please know the swap is on!!! Rain, snow or alien abduction, clothing will be exchanged, modified, transformed and you might be too. Don't forget that while we swap and modify clothing we're also transforming ourselves from consumers to creators. Anyone can stroll into the gap and put on the costume of the masses. The only thing the industry forgot to put on their labels is "this is your uniform, you are now a drone." Not so for the maker! Bust out, be independent. Don't be branded and divided into socioeconomic stalls that reflect the size of your wallet rather than the expanse of your creativity. You can do better. At Swap-O-Rama-Rama you will learn all you need to know to resist the silly tactics of big biz: sew, stitch, rip, zip, puncture, staple, embroidery, glue, iron, paint, solder, design. . . do it yourself!

A quick review of what to bring...
What to bring: jackets, wallets, hats, pants, shirts, skirts, shoes, gloves, belts, accessories (wearable), jewelry, sunglasses, bags, costumes, lingere, pjs etc. Only clothes please!

What not to bring: books, bikes, vases, lamps, your hamster, furniture, statues, dolls, stuffed animals etc.
If you cant wear it, dont bring it!

* Quantity is not important. Come with a little or a lot, whatever you got.

Thanks for participating. See you all on Sunday!
Wendy Tremayne

* read on for the day's events

A reminder of the days events...

Swap-O-Rama-Rama
Sunday February 12, 2006 - 2pm to 7pm
$10 and a bag of your unwanted clothes
all workshop and DIY materials are provided
http://www.swaporamarama.org

Galapagos Art Space
70 North 6th (btw Wythe & Kent), Brooklyn NY
L train to Bedford, two blocks

Join in the communal process of creative reuse!

It’s time to clean out your closet and get rid of those unloved items to get ready for the winter Swap-O-Rama-Rama! Dig out the clothes you bought thinking “I’ll fit into it one day,” the gifts that made you wonder how well your aunt Marilyn really knows you and the stuff your hanging on to thinking it may come back into fashion. Let it go! At Swap-O-Rama-Rama you will trade your unloved items in for over 4,000 lbs of clothing for you to dig through. And it’s all free!

Once you’ve picked your new favorite duds you are invited to take back creativity from industry... bring your new clothes over to the DIY stations where you can learn to create new from old. Here you can work with skilled designers (Wheylan Dean Ford, Rienke Redman Akkerhuis, Kpoene Kofi Bruce and Claire Shaw) and modify your finds into something special or do on-site tailoring. You can also download images off the web and iron them on at Nat’s iron station (bring your own art on DVD or search the web on site) or silk-screen your new clothes at the silk-screen station with friends Dee and Shawn from Antimart to show you how. Explore a mass of bows, buttons, decals, trim patches and other notions at the decoration stations where Lina and Blanka will show you how to embroider, knit and have an all around great time doing hand sewn mods. All of your creativity materials are provided. Dive in and have fun!

You’ll also find artist taught workshops (a new one each 1/2 hr) where you can learn a unique clothing modification or recycling skill. The winter swap features: Alison Lewis’s Fashion Hack - create your own Twinkle Tote bag which lights up when your cell phone rings, Megan Nicolay’s Tee Party with 108 ways to transform a T-shirt; Dana Moskowitz's Knitting with Recycled Ts; Mikey Sklar’s RFID tag pocket replacement; Itsi Atkins Bra to Handbag conversion; or Daniel Tainow’s how to on composting organic textiles.

Swap-O-Rama-Rama also features a DIY fashion show including Kate Goldwater’s AuH2O Designs created using recycled clothing from the autumn swap. You are also welcome to join in the “Do It At the Swap” fashion show where your invited to show off the items you modified at the swap and win prizes.

And for the grumbling bell Louisa's Lucid Food will offer vegan sandwiches and sweets!

When you need a break from the action sit back and watch two on-theme short films: artist Jess Dobkin’s michevious Restored project and Faye Lederman's A Good Uplift, a documentary about a lower east side shop where jewish grandmother Magda will size you up for the perfect bra or catch Jessica Delfino’s stand up comedy.

What to bring? Bring: Clothes in season: jackets, wallets, hats, pants,shirts, skirts, shoes, gloves, belts, accessories, jewelry, sunglasses, bags, costumes, lingere, pjs etc. Only clothes please! What not to bring: books, bikes, vases, lamps etc... If you cant wear it, dont bring it! Quantity is not important. Come with a little or a lot, whatever you got.

Swap-O-Rama-Rama is for boys, girls, men, women.

All left over clothing is donated to St. Martin DePorres Shelter in Brooklyn, NY.

More Info: http://www.swaporamarama.org

Strange Poetry going...somewhere?

Iron can't be good for you
it's metal
fear metal

When eaten a pill or two,
it's yellow
it's yellow

Hippies dig nutrious stuff
they're mellow
they're mellow

They don't shave their pubic puffs
well, hello!
well, hello!

I could do this all day long
No day job
No day job

I'm gonna do a show tonight at
The Continental
Experimental

Haunted Pussy takes the stage
It's histronic
fear metal

9 PM, no admission
Tonight - we'll
See you there, all

LIVE (free) DVD TAPING or whatever SATURDAY, FEB 4 at 1 PM (Tomorrow!!!)
and free wine

For those of you who are eager to find something New York Centric and free to do at 1:30 PM on a rainy Saturday, I'm taping a live DVD tomorrow afternoon at 1:30 PM at MNN Studios. It's on the north side of 59th Street between 10th and 11th Aves.

Some things you may experience at my DVD taping:

*** love at first sight (with a stranger or perhaps someone you know)
*** free wine going into your stomach
*** diarrhea (but I really hope not, that would be so bad)
*** songs about vaginas
*** peace and tranquility as we gaze at the green screen nature scenes behind me



Some things you WILL NOT experience at my DVD taping:

*** there will be no elephants trampling your hands and feet
*** you will not experience electric shock therapy
*** i promise no shanking by a home-made tooth brush knife
*** lice (98% sure)
*** you will not be harrassed by any deaf mutes, not on my watch
*** no one will dump orange juice on your genitals



Those are the promises I can make to you as an attendee of my live DVD taping.

So come one, come all.

MNN Studios
1:15 SHARP!
FREE admission, and most of all,
FREE wine

This will not last more than one hour. You are allowed to get up and move around. You will not be forced at gun point or stabby point to stay seated or watch, or even enjoy the show.

SOME OF THE HITS I WILL BE PERFORMING:

*** My Pussy Is Magic - my dance pop hit featuring glitter
*** Sudden Change - A song which is all about bloody crotches
*** Lullabye - A ditty that will make you snivel while chortling
*** Happy Bears - All about how in Vermont bears eat hippies
*** Really Great Knobber - This one's about learning from your elders
*** and many, many more.

and HERE IS A VIDEO OF ME PERFORMING A SONG THAT MAY SOMEDAY LAND ME IN JAIL

Be there, or be doing something else, like eating overpriced omelettes at some greasy yuppy hell hole or shopping for products made by Chinese minors.

LOUSIEST WEEKEND EVER

Saturday night I felt a lot of thumping around in my chest. I've had a little chest gnome for years, but I've ignored it and it's ignored me. However, on Saturday, it was as if the chest gnome had a family reunion and all it's chest gnome buddies were there, drinking and causing all kinds of havoc.

I went to the emergency room around 3 AM, because I am afraid of chest gnomes.

The doctors hooked me up to a chest gnome checker, and went back to playing UNO or whatever it is the doctors do in the emergency room. I fell asleep and later woke up, so that was good, or bad, depending on your outlook.

The doctors said my EKG (chest gnome test) was abnormal, and said I might want to hang around for a few days so they can monitor me. I thought it strange that they would invite me to stay like that, so I took them up on the offer. I figured they wouldn't have asked me if they weren't at least a little concerned.

So, I said yes.

I was moved up to a bed on the 7th floor of the hospital around 1 PM.

I missed lunch, but the kindly lady snuck me an egg salad sammy.

I slept most of Sunday, waking every few hours only to get blood removed from my arm and have doctors ask me questions and hook me up to machines and have nurses drop pills down my throat. It was downright sadistic.

Monday I took some more chest gnome tests and was told that my chest gnome, though annoying, is mostly just that. I decided if that was good enough for the doctors, it was good enough for me and packed up my goodies (a free tooth brush and some baby lotion) and headed to Chinatown.

As I was walking south towards my homestead, I turned on my cellphone (which I wasn't allowed to use while in the hospital) and checked my messages. Four new messages. Around message number two, something happened - a car drove by really loudly, or perhaps someone yelled something that sounded like my name and I panicked and practically threw my cellphone down a NYC sewer grate. You should have seen it, all in slow motion, bounce out of my hand, dance across the pavement and in three tango steps, commit cellphone suicide.

I gasped as it slid so gingerly through the bars, as if it were trying on a dress that fit perfectly. It was as if it was trying to run away. It actually made a "ker-plunk!" sound as it hit its' spit, piss, shit and rain water demise. I saw it's little light flicker and then go out.

It was practically sad.

A few passers by saw the commotion and exclaimed, "Oh, shit!"

I'm celebrating the life of my loyal cellphone with a Dirty Folk Rock show in Indianapolis, IN on Wednesday, March 22nd at 8:30 PM at a little joint called Birdy's. In lieu of flowers, please buy a CD.

A Poem for People and Walruses Who Aren't Sure If They Are Really In Love

Filly was a walrus, a fat and angry walrus
and Filly had a frilly little dress that he would wearus
He'd put it on and twirl about like he was in the circus
but Filly wasn't in the circus, he was an accountant
Filly crunched the numbers for the rich men in their jackets
and Filly crunched so well, those men made money by the buckets
and Filly wasn't penniless, and Filly wasn't loaded
but when it came to love, let's just say Filly was without it

Filly Filly Filly was a lonely angry walrus
He begged to heaven every day to send an angel forward
He'd wear his dress and dance around in hopes someday he could kiss
the pretty partner walrus Filly waited for with patience

Filly waited for his life for partnering to happen
but eventually Filly died lonely and forgotten
The moral of this story is that Filly was a walrus
and there was no perfected love out lusting for his touches
and sometimes even walruses are born to belong single
so if you have a good one, keep them and also be thankful

Butt, Doctor...

A good lady stuck her finger up my butt yesterday. I'm having a series of problems that seem to involve digestion, so some think it could also possibly involve my poop region. I don't mean to be so blunt, but I can't very well treat this with seriousness. After all, it involves my butt. POOP comes out of there. It is deep within that dark cavern where many jokes have been born.

She was a nice lady, and I felt sorry for her. Much like the gentleman who I had to apologize for asking him where the enemas lived, I also apologized to this pretty, friendly doctor for having to have a job where part of her responsibility is begloving a finger and then putting it in my butt. In all honesty, as far as butts go, mine probably isn't that bad. But then again, many people who have been at fault for being in a car accident claim to be great drivers.

However, I beg for your sympathy here - I do believe my butt is more magnificent than some. I wouldn't say it's the best, or the most odorless, or the least foul, but it's definitely not as bad as they come. I don't encourage anyone to put a nose to my own southern nostril and take a whiff, but you could definitely snack near my posterior and not fear a demon scent. Alas, I can't even help but be poetic. Literacy is a sign of a cleanly behind.

The kind doctor lady finger owner said my butt looked fine. Many black men over the years have stated that sentiment. I should have saved my money and simply listened to them.

LIFE UPDATE

Still alive.

Best Blog Ever!

Hi. So, the Bloggies nominations are going on, and I do believe today is the last day to nominate blogs for awards. If you are one of the blog people, please consider:

Jessy Delfino's Blog - there are several categories it could fit into, but I think I like Lifetime Achievement Award the best. It's for a long-standing blog. I believe mine qualifies! I've had this bitch cunt since 2001.

or

How To Be A Better Boyfriend (www.betterboyfriend.blogspot.com)

Sure, it got raved over on Metafilter (and then systematically shit upon) but it has it's moments, either way. Nominate that shit! Awards make people's lives more palatable.

Nominate here: http://2006.bloggies.com/

SHOW TONIGHT

I'll be at Maxwell's in Hoboken with friends Whitest Kids You Know and Milton Katz at 8 PM. Come for the comedy show, stay for the comedy show.

While I'm plugging shows, here's one coming up at R&R Bar in the meat packing district:
www.unclenats.com

CASTING CALL

I'm filming a video for my new electronic dance hit "My Pussy Is Magic". I need some fly girl dancers for the background to dance and look hot and be in the video. It will be filmed in late Jan, early Feb. Email jessdelfino@yahoo.com if you like to dance in a foolish manner. This will not be a serious video and no actual experience or talent at dancing will be necessary. I need mostly girls, but men may wear wigs and dress in drag for the video as well.

INTERNAL CLEANSING

I've never had an enema, but was considering it recently due to a string of various health problems I've been encountering. I went to a website called curezone as recommended by a friend and poured over all the various links about enemas. That website is very intense. It talks a lot about parasites and mucoid plaque, some kind of green rock lining formation which we all have encrusted into our colons due to a lifetime of McDonald's and potato chips. I read a lot of the stuff on there and it encouraged me to consider giving myself an enema. I've never douched or had an enema, but considering how shitty I feel on a daily basis, I have decided it could almost not make things worse. To make me feel better about the fact that I'm considering sticking a tube up my butt and pooping out water in an attempt to find relief, I have changed this procedure from the classless "enema" to the new and improved "butt douche" to make it seem more like something they do in cartoons and not like a serious health ordeal.

I went to Eckerd's to see what kind of butt douches they had, but I couldn't find them, so I had to ask the counter guy where the butt douches were. It was embarrassing to me to have to ask the young, almost handsome pharmacy clerk where the butt douche was, so I actually started the sentence by saying, "sorry to have to do this to you, sir." He acted like I was even crazier for acting like sticking a tube up my butt and forcing my colon to gargle wasn't something perfectly fine and normal that we should all do all the time. He pointed me in the direction of the anal mouthwash, then watched me closely as I examined each government-issued looking box. I guess he did this so I wouldn't feel uncomfortable. They all looked so sterile, like the man himself made them in a lab where they also experiment on pigs with bleach. They looked scary and I didn't trust that there wasn't bad stuff in them because as far as I am concerned, the man is satan and he wants to ass fuck us all with poison so we never shit right again and will spend more money on his pills and doctors.

(NOTE: If you think this sounds like crazy talk, consider that many women will have their uteruses removed by the time they reach middle age, as an attempt to curb fibroid tumor growths due to all the extra hormones added to meat and milk and cheese and eggs. This is only one reason to become vegan and eat organic foods - foods which have been grown in non-pesticide soil or added dangerous chemicals and hormones. If you think this all sounds crazy, go and do some research. Google that shit. Or, ask your mom and ten of her friends if they've ever had a fibroid tumor and see how many say yes. I myself am not vegan, but I no longer eat meat, have almost completely cut out eggs, cheese, milk, caffeine and sugar, and will soon be douching my butt in an attempt to cleanse any poison out of my colon. I know I won't live forever, but the years I am alive, I'd like to not spend in pain.)

The government-issued boxes made me feel so uncomfortable, I have decided to wait until I can either get a trusted friend to give me a butt douche or I have the balls to do it myself and the knowledge to make some kind of natural herb witch doctor recipe out of spices and magic. Or someday I'll spend the big bucks and have a celebrity butt doucher do it for me. I wonder who J Lo uses?

Pussy Jokes Are Heredetary!

Turns out my great grandmother was a potty-mouthed filth fountain. Thank god, because up til now I thought that there was really something very wrong with me. I thought I was some kind of dirty joke spewing freak of our family. But it turns out I'm just following in the family footsteps.

I used to get my mouthed washed out with soap on a daily basis. If only she had been alive to laugh at my jokes, she might have spared me many mouth scrubbings with the soap of the 70s day.

Here is one of my great grandmother's famous jokes:

A woman gets out of the shower and her son points to her spinach. He says, "Mommy, what's that?" She says, "That's where the Indian got me with the hatchett." So he replies, "That Indian got you right in the cunt!"

Now it's barely a dirty joke, but back in the 30s she must have been a regular Joan Rivers!

Here's an interpretive poem about this anecdote:

Pussy jokes can be hereditary
I don't even know if I'm spelling hereditary right
but that's not important.
What's important is that my great grandmother told pussy jokes.
Hallelujah! and Hurrah!
Thank you.
I needed to have some resolve with my inner voice
which dies, bending and coughing up vagina jokes
in her sleep every night
I'm no lesbian
even if I appear to be protesting too much
I just like what Mr. Universe gave me down there

Lines to use to get what you want in life:
by Jessica Delfino

Just trust me. As you can tell by this blog, I've gotten everything there is to get out of life.

As a "holiday season" sentence endcap: "Put a big red bow on my ass and call me a present!" (This is something like a, "You don't say?" NOTE: Maleable depending on the nearest "holiday" and "season". Valentine's Day "Shoot me in the ass with a bow and arrow and call me a target", Halloween - "Put a black cat on my vagina and call me a veterinarian", you get the idea.

As a "thinker" to a film critic-type person who loves films and thinks they've seen and can decipher any movie: "Jaws was a good movie to see if you have no self-respect." Whatever he says in response, interrupt with a very passionate "No doi!"

As a "test" statement to a potential suitor: "A full-grown man howling at the moon can be attractive." Follow up with a goading, persistent, "Go on..." twelve to thirteen times. (If he does anything even resembling "howling" at anything relating to a "moon", he loses.)

As an instigatory comment to a potential enemy: "Let's say you and I go outside and I'll shove the tongue of your anus in the anus of your anus." (Part of this move is to buy you some time as your enemy stands and ponders the meaning of all this craziness. While they're busy connecting brain receptors, you can be smashing foreheads into banana cream pies or whatever people do when they get into fights.

I would know - I get into three fights a week. Mostly for the pie. And the attention from men breaking up the fights. I've met my last four ex-husbands this way.

MYTHS TO LIVE BY

Vitamin C spicy candy drops by VICKS can help you from getting a cold!

Drinking lots of water will make you rich!

Buying lottery tickets increase your odds of winning the lottery!

Singing in the shower makes you homosexual!

Jack Black for President!

Dark chocolate is low in calories, good for your heart, and adds 26 years to your life!

Brushing your teeth gets rid of gingivitis and helps you get laid!

Day jobs are for people with no imagination!

Music helps plants grow!

Watching Conan O'Brien increases your IQ!

Reading blogs makes the work week seem up to 56% shorter!

A Bedtime Poem:

I'm about to go to rest
I shall begin to get undressed
The cold crisp air is flying sharp
I hear it dance upon a tarp
But that does not deter me from
The sleep that is about to come
The sleep that shall come over me
A blanket warm and blankety
I'll lie my head on foam or feather
And think not of the chilly weather
Instead I'll think of counting sheep
And they will lead me to my sleep

Bye

ON TOOKIE WILLIAMS:



Tookie Williams was recently killed by California on Death Row. This is a topic that lots of comedians, bloggers and commenator types have been writing about and discussing now for several days. Many of you may or may not know the details of the story, but from what I understand, Tookie, purportedly a co-founder of the Crips, was incarcerated for killing four people in a robbery/murder in Los Angeles. While in jail, he had turned his life around and had contributed to society in a myriad of ways, including writing books deterring children and teens and people of all ages from getting involved in gangs, and he created a protocol to help gangs to call truces, and was otherwise trying to give back to the world to make up for what he took from it. Stanley "Tookie" Williams was murdered by the State of California a few days ago, after serving many years in jail.

People keep asking me my opinion on all of this, and even though it is a few days old, I feel as a comedian and a blogger and a person in America who reads the news, I should have a take on Tookie Williams, and so here it is:

It doesn't have any affect on me or my life in any way, what-so-ever.

MOMMY, WHAT ARE BLOGS FOR?

This post is in retaliation for a rash of imbeciles who came from Metafilter. I never asked to be posted to Metafilter. I'm just a writin' fool who likes the idea of free, unfiltered thought.

Lest ye wonder what a blog is "for", Imma breakin' it down for you, below, old school style, what a blog means to ME.

1. A blog serves as a virtual toilet bowl wherein I might take my daily written mental crap. Sometimes it's a pretty crap and I can see rainbows and messages from God in it. Sometimes it's just lumpy and useless.
2. It's cheaper and more permanent than notebooks. It will never burn in a fire. That's not necessarily a plus.
3. Blogs serve as a place for me to think out loud without getting punched in the face, at least not immediately.
4. A blog is like an exercise bike for my writing. Anyone's writing gets better with practice.
5. A blog is a place for me to be able to get attention without having to look at random, sometimes annoying faces.
6. It gives me an opportunity to try to be honest without getting yelled at for it. (Well, it was, before the comment section feature was added.)
7. It's a place for me to procrastinate from having to do actual work.
8. It's a way to inflict self-abuse from various angry strangers, if you're into that sort of thing, and apparently, I am.
9. It's a way for me to connect with Wil Wheaton.
10. It's easier than writing html, paying for a server and domain name.
11. Blogs are good for me for writing discipline, something which I sometimes lack.
12. More reasons, as equally as interesting or uninteresting, depending on how much self-hatred you posess.

So stick that in your proverbial pipe and take a puff off it, nay sayers. I never said I was a virtuoso writer. Sometimes I kid and say how hot I am or how smart I am, but truth be told, I'm just like any of you loser jerks, and just like any of you nice apples - I'm insecure at times, and much like you all, my future is full of uncertainty. Several hundred thousand wasted minutes have gone into making this blog what it is - a slightly entertaining thought trough! And that's the way I like it!

I know this one thing for sure though - I'll never, ever again work a day job! And this blog is part of the reason why. That's right - none of the dollars I earn shall go to buy Mr. John P. Corporate Anus Licker a ninth mansion. However, unlike my anonymous haters, many of whom are surely managerial cock yankers, I'll continue to get paid $500 per day to write for TV shows and famous documentarians. I know that must eat you up inside, you haters. Go make someone a photo copy!

So, should you wonder what this is or why I do it, keep in mind - I'm just biding time til death, like any and everyone else, except I'm doing it in a somewhat constructive, sometimes boring, sometimes thought-provoking way.

So go fuck yourselves, you anonymous blog leeching weenies! Get your own fame!

And if you think MY blog sucks, check THIS ONE out!

THE SECULAR VOICES OF HEAVEN'S HORIZON...

...is my holiday band that sings songs about holiday topics! They're like Christmas carols without the crappiness and cloying holiday spirit of dorky carols. They're cloying all in their own way!

Here are some of our hits:

XMAS IS ILLEGAL - discusses Christmas's breach of separation of church and state laws.
CLEAN YOUR CHIMNEY - asks folks to make the chimney tidy for Santa's descent
ASIAN SNOWMAN - tells the story of a snowman made of yellow snow.
CAN YOU TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK IS KWANZA? - inquires about the "black" holiday celebration growing in popularity.
A DIAMOND SOMEDAY - an optimistic viewpoint from a recipient of a lump of coal.
IT'S A STU-STU-STUTTERING CHRISTMAS - this song celebrates the joys of the season for one family of stutterers.

There are 12 songs on the CD, and also on the CD are the karaoke version of the tracks and a copy of lyrics so you and your family can sing your own holiday carols!

This CD is a lot of fun, and will make a terrific Christmas gift - much better than a GAP gift certificiate. You can order CDs (which are $5) by emailing me at jessdelfino@yahoo.com.

Mushy Crustmas, everyone!

I SHOULD HAVE BEEN A MODEL

I finally got comments working on my blog again! Or more accurately, a friend of mine finally got comments working on my blog again...but if no one minds, I'll just take the credit myself.

I bet the people who used to write really mean comments on my blog all the time have been going out of their MINDS! What did you meanies do during that time? Did you write mean things on other people's blogs? Did you get OTHER, NEW hobbies? What did you DO with yourselves??? I bet it drove you CRAZY to just have to simply read and ENJOY the awesome writing on this blog without being able to HATE on me! But it's all fixed now! And tis the season to be assholes, so insult away!

And by the way, I don't necessarily mind getting negative feed back, but I'd especially enjoy it if it were accurate, and not just a shameless pack of lies! For example, everyone knows my butt is bootylicious and like an ice cream sunday of pure sunshine.

So..., I was talking to my boyfriend the other day, and he said, "What's the first thing you'd do if you had a penis?" And I said, "That's easy. I'd pee on the walls!"

(That's something vaginas can't do...or not easily, anyway.)

WHAT IS IN A DUNKIN DONUT?

Has anyone ever wondered? I found the recipe in a great book called, "How To Make The Country Obese and Dead, Especially The Poor Ones." Here is a list of ingredients in a Dunkin Donut:

Flour (made out of bleach and bug spray)
Chocolate colored paint
Diesel fuel
Sprinkles (plastic)
Jelly (cow ooze, FD & C Red)
Blood money
and
Powdered Sugar

Mmmmmmmm!

I'll take a baker's dozen - that's 230!

JOKES ABOUT DONUTS

Why did the donut cross the road?
Because it was tempted by the kid in the kidnapper's van.

Why is there no such thing as a fat free donut?
There's no such thing as a free anything.

How many donuts does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
2: One to hold the lightbulb and one to taunt someone to come over and screw in the light bulb.

I did it! I had a goal today of writing three donut jokes and I wrote them! I wrote it! I did it! I wrote them and it and did it and them! I did it!

REVIEW OF THE DAN DEACON SHOW AT CAKE SHOP LAST NIGHT:

Awesome. Great. Dan Deacon is a magical speaker with a gift for run-on abstract thinking and talking, and a talent for maneuvering miscellaneous electronic gadgets and buttons. His songs are like small parties for retarded kids, with good beats. Also, a shout out to Ecstatic Sunshine, the opening act before him which consisted of two dudes on guitars. They were like The Allman Brothers, if the Allman Brothers were experimentive and chaotic, and one of them were Asian.