TIME OUT RAVES ABOUT DELFINO!
What's that old adage about how no publicity is bad publicity? Here's another one for the old press kit.
In reference to "A Night Of Dirty Songs" in this week's music listings, Mike Wolf writes:
"Jessica Delfino is one of those musical comics who plays songs about sex acts and other corporeal functions with deadpan delivery. We don't mind hearing campfire songs about Delfino's vagina; it's more her lack of vocal skills and terrible guitar playing that bother us. Oh, and that she's not very funny."
I would say "um, owie, I guess?" except that I know they wrote that to take a shot at Brodeur, my beau, who is constantly telling them how badly they suck at doing their job because they're always promoting Clearchannel bands and sucking their advertiser's teats. I almost give them credit for writing this blurb about me - for once, they're actually writing about a lesser known artist, though Mike has never even seen me perform. If a dork slams Delfino in the overgrown, unkempt forest of music listings in Time Out NY, will anyone besides Christopher and a few stinky armpitted rock musicians read it? The fact that I'm putting it on my blog actually guarantees that a few people might see it.
They wrongfully assume their readers don't know how to think for themselves. Come form your own opinions tomorrow, Thurs., Oct. 6th at Galapagos in Williamsburg, 7-10 PM on "A Night of Dirty Songs" starring Ahna & Lauren, Stuckey & Murray, Christ's Abortion, Soce The Elemental Wizard and other kids in need of a good mouth douching!
And if you're feeling bold, write to Mike Wolf, call him a fat nerd and dare him to come to the show at mikew@timeoutny.com.
Thursday, October 6, 2005
Monday, October 3, 2005
GERD
I've got the GERD
oh, you may have heard
or made an assumption
on a previous word
it's acid reflux
my insides are fucked
the doctors do say
I should be OK
though a rock and roll lifestyle
is mostly to blame
I took acid
a lot as a kid
about 200 times
that's 200 crimes
now the acid is back
in a formal attack
yes, it's come back around
for a late in life round
like Christy the car
in Steven King's yarn
my insides are sore
esophagus tore
Prevacid costs more
than I wish it were
I've got the GERD
oh, you may have heard
or made an assumption
on a previous word
it's acid reflux
my insides are fucked
the doctors do say
I should be OK
though a rock and roll lifestyle
is mostly to blame
I took acid
a lot as a kid
about 200 times
that's 200 crimes
now the acid is back
in a formal attack
yes, it's come back around
for a late in life round
like Christy the car
in Steven King's yarn
my insides are sore
esophagus tore
Prevacid costs more
than I wish it were
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
THE TWELVE DAYS OF CHINATOWN AUTUMN
12 ladies doing laundry on their rooftops
11 homeless people in the park across the street at any given time
10 on a scale of 1 to 10 of violent smells
9 day wait to get our toilet fixed
8 bucks for a cup of coffee at the new Starbucks on Delancey
7 times the humidity of a normal summer/autumn day
6 asian teenagers hanging outside on the bottle recyclables bin
5 golden dragon, etc. restaurants and laundry mats
4 people shot in our neighborhood since we've moved in
3 different kinds of fish eye soup
2 people crammed into a tiny one bedroom apartment
and
1 dollar taco bell burritos!
12 ladies doing laundry on their rooftops
11 homeless people in the park across the street at any given time
10 on a scale of 1 to 10 of violent smells
9 day wait to get our toilet fixed
8 bucks for a cup of coffee at the new Starbucks on Delancey
7 times the humidity of a normal summer/autumn day
6 asian teenagers hanging outside on the bottle recyclables bin
5 golden dragon, etc. restaurants and laundry mats
4 people shot in our neighborhood since we've moved in
3 different kinds of fish eye soup
2 people crammed into a tiny one bedroom apartment
and
1 dollar taco bell burritos!
Saturday, September 24, 2005
LIVE FOREVER THROUGH THE MAGIC OF COMEDY
Friend and comedian/writer Larry Getlen emailed me this. If any Opie and Anthony fans are reading this, and I know they are, don't submit jokes that you stole from Jim Norton or Opie or Anthony, and don't submit any jokes at all, actually.
______________________________________
Larry Getlen here, with an opportunity for comics to have their jokes and promotional information in a book that will be available in just about every book store in the country.
I am currently writing and compiling THE COMPLETE IDIOT’S GUIDE TO JOKES. Part of the very successful Idiot’s Guide series (over 20 million copies sold), the book will be released in September 2006 through Alpha Books, an imprint of Penguin Publishing. THE COMPLETE IDIOT’S GUIDE TO JOKES will be a reference guide of over 1,500 of the world’s funniest jokes cross-referenced by category, plus advice for the lay person on how to tell a joke in any situation.
Every comic whose jokes are included in the book will, of course, be credited right next to each of their jokes. In addition, the book will include a list of every comedian whose jokes are featured, which means you get a brief bio, including, if you like, your web page address (or, if you don’t have one, your E-Mail address).
Here’s the deal.
1. The main rule for these jokes is, the shorter the better. One-liners or two- or three-line jokes are best. When in doubt, 45 or 50 words is generally a good cut-off. However, if it’s on the fence, or slightly over, send it.
2. Jokes are welcome in every topic.
3. As far as language goes, I’d say if the book was a movie, it would be mostly PG-13 with flashes of R. No NC-17 or XXX. We’re going to generally avoid curse words, but, if a joke is simply brilliant and needs the profanity, we may be able to use it. When in doubt, send it.
4. HOWEVER, as far as subject matter is concerned, this is a book geared toward adults. No topic is off limits.
5. Send as many jokes as you like.
6. I’m looking to receive submissions as soon as possible. The deadline is October 5, but if you can send it earlier, that would be great.
7. Please feel free to forward this message to all your comedian friends.
THE SUBMISSION ITSELF
Please send all submissions to me at zhet_99@yahoo.com.
When sending your submission, please include:
1. Your Name
2. Your Snail Mail address
3. Your bio (including, if desired, your web or E-Mail address) – limit 50 words
4. In the subject line, please put: “Original submission for IDIOT’S GUIDE TO JOKES”
That’s all, folks. Thanks, and I’m looking forward to seeing your submissions on or before October 5.
Friend and comedian/writer Larry Getlen emailed me this. If any Opie and Anthony fans are reading this, and I know they are, don't submit jokes that you stole from Jim Norton or Opie or Anthony, and don't submit any jokes at all, actually.
______________________________________
Larry Getlen here, with an opportunity for comics to have their jokes and promotional information in a book that will be available in just about every book store in the country.
I am currently writing and compiling THE COMPLETE IDIOT’S GUIDE TO JOKES. Part of the very successful Idiot’s Guide series (over 20 million copies sold), the book will be released in September 2006 through Alpha Books, an imprint of Penguin Publishing. THE COMPLETE IDIOT’S GUIDE TO JOKES will be a reference guide of over 1,500 of the world’s funniest jokes cross-referenced by category, plus advice for the lay person on how to tell a joke in any situation.
Every comic whose jokes are included in the book will, of course, be credited right next to each of their jokes. In addition, the book will include a list of every comedian whose jokes are featured, which means you get a brief bio, including, if you like, your web page address (or, if you don’t have one, your E-Mail address).
Here’s the deal.
1. The main rule for these jokes is, the shorter the better. One-liners or two- or three-line jokes are best. When in doubt, 45 or 50 words is generally a good cut-off. However, if it’s on the fence, or slightly over, send it.
2. Jokes are welcome in every topic.
3. As far as language goes, I’d say if the book was a movie, it would be mostly PG-13 with flashes of R. No NC-17 or XXX. We’re going to generally avoid curse words, but, if a joke is simply brilliant and needs the profanity, we may be able to use it. When in doubt, send it.
4. HOWEVER, as far as subject matter is concerned, this is a book geared toward adults. No topic is off limits.
5. Send as many jokes as you like.
6. I’m looking to receive submissions as soon as possible. The deadline is October 5, but if you can send it earlier, that would be great.
7. Please feel free to forward this message to all your comedian friends.
THE SUBMISSION ITSELF
Please send all submissions to me at zhet_99@yahoo.com.
When sending your submission, please include:
1. Your Name
2. Your Snail Mail address
3. Your bio (including, if desired, your web or E-Mail address) – limit 50 words
4. In the subject line, please put: “Original submission for IDIOT’S GUIDE TO JOKES”
That’s all, folks. Thanks, and I’m looking forward to seeing your submissions on or before October 5.
Job Search Self-Sabotage
by Jessica Delfino
Reply to: see below
Date: 2005-09-14, 2:17PM EDT
We have a new live show in the works and are looking for a magician/illusionist to do a 15-25 minute routine during the show. Our music is instrumental and would work best with non-spoken visual magic. So if you can do any of the following tricks please contact me:
-Rings, Hoops, Levitations (humans or objects), Doves, rabbits, sawing a lady in half (or any variation), mirrors, boxes, card florishes, (ala Jeff McBride) etc. Stage stuff.
I used to do magic as a hobby so I could help with props, and supply female assistants if needed.
Thanks and hope to hear from you.
Dear We,
Hi. I'm a magician, and so it was only a matter of time before I magically uncovered your ad on Craigslist. It wasn't hard, the information came to me in a dream, as I am magic. In the dream, your band was a flock of birds. They flew over my bed, which was floating in a river. I was rowing the bed with a rock. A record player was at the foot of my bed, and Tiny Tim was playing on it. All of a sudden, the birds shit onto the record player and it skipped. This was a sign. I looked at the record and it said, "Craigslist."
This is only some of the magic I can do. In addition to dream decipherage, I can also make napkins disappear, I can pull handerchiefs out of my ears and nose, I can guess the cards which you are holding, and I can levitate, but usually only on Tuesdays.
In your ad, you say you can provide female assistants. I'd like that. I don't need them in my act, but if you could provide them anyway, that would be good.
I am pretty sure I got the job, as I had a dream just now that I did, and you know about me and dreams. No need for me to leave my number, or for you to write back. I'll just appear when the time is right.
Sincerely,
Ned The Dude Who Knows Magic
by Jessica Delfino
Reply to: see below
Date: 2005-09-14, 2:17PM EDT
We have a new live show in the works and are looking for a magician/illusionist to do a 15-25 minute routine during the show. Our music is instrumental and would work best with non-spoken visual magic. So if you can do any of the following tricks please contact me:
-Rings, Hoops, Levitations (humans or objects), Doves, rabbits, sawing a lady in half (or any variation), mirrors, boxes, card florishes, (ala Jeff McBride) etc. Stage stuff.
I used to do magic as a hobby so I could help with props, and supply female assistants if needed.
Thanks and hope to hear from you.
Dear We,
Hi. I'm a magician, and so it was only a matter of time before I magically uncovered your ad on Craigslist. It wasn't hard, the information came to me in a dream, as I am magic. In the dream, your band was a flock of birds. They flew over my bed, which was floating in a river. I was rowing the bed with a rock. A record player was at the foot of my bed, and Tiny Tim was playing on it. All of a sudden, the birds shit onto the record player and it skipped. This was a sign. I looked at the record and it said, "Craigslist."
This is only some of the magic I can do. In addition to dream decipherage, I can also make napkins disappear, I can pull handerchiefs out of my ears and nose, I can guess the cards which you are holding, and I can levitate, but usually only on Tuesdays.
In your ad, you say you can provide female assistants. I'd like that. I don't need them in my act, but if you could provide them anyway, that would be good.
I am pretty sure I got the job, as I had a dream just now that I did, and you know about me and dreams. No need for me to leave my number, or for you to write back. I'll just appear when the time is right.
Sincerely,
Ned The Dude Who Knows Magic
Friday, September 23, 2005
Back To Stool
Chest pains. Sharp as fuck. 5 am. Woke me up.
Ouch! Ouch, ouch, ouch! Stop it! Stop! What the fuck?
Heart attack or super gas? Stood up. Went away. Phew.
Laid back down. Chest pains. Ouch, ouch! Stood back up.
OK again. Like this for an hour. 5:30 am, taxi to the ER.
Bf mad.
EKG. X-ray. Ouch, ouch! Ouch! Tests. Sleep. Doctor says
Gastritis. Body makes too much stomach acid. Why? Secret.
Prescription Pepcid. Industrial size bottle of Maalox.
When no one is looking, it goes into the purse.
Instructed not to eat! No! Eating helps dilute shittiness of living!
OK, can eat again. Small portions. No chocolate, booze, or pot.
Why? Is life not evil enough?
Medicine daily at noon. Eating small meals.
No tomatoes. No grapes.
Life is changed. Sucks horribly. Can't eat fave foods,
smoke fave drugs. Daily drug requirement. Life is ruined.
Enter pill regimen. No side effects. Til I eat.
Then I trip my ass off. Half hour at a time.
Maybe life isn't ruined after all.
Chest pains. Sharp as fuck. 5 am. Woke me up.
Ouch! Ouch, ouch, ouch! Stop it! Stop! What the fuck?
Heart attack or super gas? Stood up. Went away. Phew.
Laid back down. Chest pains. Ouch, ouch! Stood back up.
OK again. Like this for an hour. 5:30 am, taxi to the ER.
Bf mad.
EKG. X-ray. Ouch, ouch! Ouch! Tests. Sleep. Doctor says
Gastritis. Body makes too much stomach acid. Why? Secret.
Prescription Pepcid. Industrial size bottle of Maalox.
When no one is looking, it goes into the purse.
Instructed not to eat! No! Eating helps dilute shittiness of living!
OK, can eat again. Small portions. No chocolate, booze, or pot.
Why? Is life not evil enough?
Medicine daily at noon. Eating small meals.
No tomatoes. No grapes.
Life is changed. Sucks horribly. Can't eat fave foods,
smoke fave drugs. Daily drug requirement. Life is ruined.
Enter pill regimen. No side effects. Til I eat.
Then I trip my ass off. Half hour at a time.
Maybe life isn't ruined after all.
Sunday, September 18, 2005
AUDIENCE AND COMEDIANS WANTED
A live webcast is being produced at Helen Mills Theater in NYC today to raise money for the victims of Katrina, that violent bitch. If you are a comedian, come get involved. If you are a comedy fan, please watch. The website is www.enrichamerica.com. All proceeds to go the American Red Cross.
Helen Mills Theater is at 137-139 W. 26th St. in NYC.
Thanks Debbie S. for the info on this.
A live webcast is being produced at Helen Mills Theater in NYC today to raise money for the victims of Katrina, that violent bitch. If you are a comedian, come get involved. If you are a comedy fan, please watch. The website is www.enrichamerica.com. All proceeds to go the American Red Cross.
Helen Mills Theater is at 137-139 W. 26th St. in NYC.
Thanks Debbie S. for the info on this.
Friday, September 16, 2005
I saw this listing yesterday...in my mind:
Emotionally overavailable white girl with enhanced ass seeks spiritually, emotionally and mentally mature person to entertain me 24/7. Ideally, you'll be funny in a way I like, rich and handsome (and a non-smoker) with a non-history of violence or incarceration. Preferrably, you will not be running for any political office and have no plans to do so in the future. Should have a spacious place to live, because I'll be moving in. Cats OK. You may have multiple lovers if you insist, but I should warn you that I have a knife and know how to use it. Should take me on improvised mini-adventures and road trips that don't necessarily have a destination. Should have regular hair, no blonde-spiky or half-mullets allowed. Must want to impregnate me and resume half of the responsibility for whatever the result is. Must be okay with spontaneous crying spells.
Any interested parties, please send me a telepathic or holographic message.
Emotionally overavailable white girl with enhanced ass seeks spiritually, emotionally and mentally mature person to entertain me 24/7. Ideally, you'll be funny in a way I like, rich and handsome (and a non-smoker) with a non-history of violence or incarceration. Preferrably, you will not be running for any political office and have no plans to do so in the future. Should have a spacious place to live, because I'll be moving in. Cats OK. You may have multiple lovers if you insist, but I should warn you that I have a knife and know how to use it. Should take me on improvised mini-adventures and road trips that don't necessarily have a destination. Should have regular hair, no blonde-spiky or half-mullets allowed. Must want to impregnate me and resume half of the responsibility for whatever the result is. Must be okay with spontaneous crying spells.
Any interested parties, please send me a telepathic or holographic message.
Thursday, September 15, 2005
CAN'T HELP BUT BE ALARMED
There's this loud-ass alarm that was going off all night long last night. Tonight, it's doing the same thing.
It is a high-pitched, fast, steady beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep!
It's competing for most annoying thing about my block.
MOST ANNOYING THINGS ABOUT MY BLOCK Top Competitors:
***Unplaceable smell of things dead, all the time
***Constant, spontaneous spitting by everyone
***Gangster kids who hit on me when I go to the deli (I'm afraid of them, because they look like they want to rape me, and I'm not just saying that because they're black, or because I think I'm hot, I'm saying that their facial expressions actually seem to be saying, "I want to rape you. Maybe tonight.")(I think the term I'm looking for is "menacing". Perhaps they will read this and change their menacing ways.)
***No place to park my horse
***Benches in the park covered in chewing gum and human filth
***New Starbucks going up on Delancey
***Various diseases and air-borne illnesses running rampant, I'm guessing
***Loud-ass high-pitched fast, steady beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep!
beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep!
LEAST ANNOYING THINGS ABOUT MY BLOCK Top Competitors:
***Super cheap food options, like dollar hot and sour soup, 25 cent ice cream sandwiches and 1.50 slices of good-ass damn pizza (food might not even contain parasites)
***Lots of homeless people to protect me
***Cool neighbors like Reverend Jen and her Troll Museum (located inside of her apartment), AsFour, very cute guy in 4B
***Would like to think of another non-annoying thing but can't hear my thoughts due to a continuous, ear-screeching, bad memory invoking beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep!
This block can be A-OK.
(Photo above: Some neighbors of mine)
There's this loud-ass alarm that was going off all night long last night. Tonight, it's doing the same thing.
It is a high-pitched, fast, steady beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep!
It's competing for most annoying thing about my block.
MOST ANNOYING THINGS ABOUT MY BLOCK Top Competitors:
***Unplaceable smell of things dead, all the time
***Constant, spontaneous spitting by everyone
***Gangster kids who hit on me when I go to the deli (I'm afraid of them, because they look like they want to rape me, and I'm not just saying that because they're black, or because I think I'm hot, I'm saying that their facial expressions actually seem to be saying, "I want to rape you. Maybe tonight.")(I think the term I'm looking for is "menacing". Perhaps they will read this and change their menacing ways.)
***No place to park my horse
***Benches in the park covered in chewing gum and human filth
***New Starbucks going up on Delancey
***Various diseases and air-borne illnesses running rampant, I'm guessing
***Loud-ass high-pitched fast, steady beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep!
beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep!
LEAST ANNOYING THINGS ABOUT MY BLOCK Top Competitors:
***Super cheap food options, like dollar hot and sour soup, 25 cent ice cream sandwiches and 1.50 slices of good-ass damn pizza (food might not even contain parasites)
***Lots of homeless people to protect me
***Cool neighbors like Reverend Jen and her Troll Museum (located inside of her apartment), AsFour, very cute guy in 4B
***Would like to think of another non-annoying thing but can't hear my thoughts due to a continuous, ear-screeching, bad memory invoking beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep! beep!
This block can be A-OK.
(Photo above: Some neighbors of mine)
Monday, September 12, 2005
Things Assholes Have Done To Me
Wow...I heard it through the grapevine that my songs can now be found on I-Tunes. I haven't actually seen it yet for myself, as my boss broke my computer so I can no longer install or remove any programs. He refuses to claim responsibility for breaking it, even though we both know he did. He's a millionaire, also. I'm a ten dollar-aire, on a good day.
Other things people have done wrong to me:
- A lady yelled at me at Staples the other day when I pulled out my "deli coffee cup as a leather wallet" change purse. She said, "That is disgusting. Just disgusting. Throw it out. You are too pretty to carry that." She rotated those four sentences for about the next six minutes or so.
- My mother birthed me.
- Mayor Bloomberg allows my apartment complex to have flickering hallway lights.
- Jesus hasn't come to save me, yet.
- My cute black kitty ran away from home and never came back.
- Three pounds crept back on me. That, technically is me letting myself down, but I'll blame the pounds themselves, thank you. (That puts me at 5'9", 136 lbs, or "super-hot", just in case any comment-writers are wondering.)
- And finally, my red jacket itches. Thanks a lot, cheap laborers.
Wow...I heard it through the grapevine that my songs can now be found on I-Tunes. I haven't actually seen it yet for myself, as my boss broke my computer so I can no longer install or remove any programs. He refuses to claim responsibility for breaking it, even though we both know he did. He's a millionaire, also. I'm a ten dollar-aire, on a good day.
Other things people have done wrong to me:
- A lady yelled at me at Staples the other day when I pulled out my "deli coffee cup as a leather wallet" change purse. She said, "That is disgusting. Just disgusting. Throw it out. You are too pretty to carry that." She rotated those four sentences for about the next six minutes or so.
- My mother birthed me.
- Mayor Bloomberg allows my apartment complex to have flickering hallway lights.
- Jesus hasn't come to save me, yet.
- My cute black kitty ran away from home and never came back.
- Three pounds crept back on me. That, technically is me letting myself down, but I'll blame the pounds themselves, thank you. (That puts me at 5'9", 136 lbs, or "super-hot", just in case any comment-writers are wondering.)
- And finally, my red jacket itches. Thanks a lot, cheap laborers.
Wednesday, September 7, 2005
I ENJOY MY TITS
Here's a timeline of my flip flaps:
I used to hate my tits so much. (I have, at one time or another, also called them shit balls of ugly and my punching nuts). When I was in grammar school, I discovered my blammos during basketball practice. I was running across the floor, and all of a sudden, I felt the fleshy udders dangling from my chest. I realized I had breasts. How do you have two boobs on your torso and you don't notice? I was 12, and I rarely showered at the time, obviously. 12 year olds don't need to shower. Their vaginas are used for storage only, still.
So, there they were. I loved them the same as any of my toys. I had an Odyssey computer at the time, and would play Pong and Dungeons and Dragons on it a lot. And I had tits. They were like bumper cars, the way I'd smash them into things. It took me awhile to realize that they protruded.
One time, a boy said my breasts were concave.
I found a dollar once, underneath a breast. In the morning, I saw the tooth I'd placed under my pillow was gone.
It's not that my ling lings are small, I don't think they are. I wrote a song when I was 21 about how small they were. Sometimes I sing it. But then people say, "You're boobs aren't THAT small." I start vomiting and call them liars.
It seems like they've actually grown a lot. They've grown and gotten better, without surgery. I don't know what happened. It's like I now have the tits I always wanted when I was 16. It seems like it would have made a bigger difference then. Like, maybe I could have been popular in high school. But now, no one cares. It seems like ALL my friends boobs are great.
Sometimes I like to look at my boobs in the mirror. I squeeze them and then quickly punch them afterwards so God doesn't get mad.
Here's a timeline of my flip flaps:
I used to hate my tits so much. (I have, at one time or another, also called them shit balls of ugly and my punching nuts). When I was in grammar school, I discovered my blammos during basketball practice. I was running across the floor, and all of a sudden, I felt the fleshy udders dangling from my chest. I realized I had breasts. How do you have two boobs on your torso and you don't notice? I was 12, and I rarely showered at the time, obviously. 12 year olds don't need to shower. Their vaginas are used for storage only, still.
So, there they were. I loved them the same as any of my toys. I had an Odyssey computer at the time, and would play Pong and Dungeons and Dragons on it a lot. And I had tits. They were like bumper cars, the way I'd smash them into things. It took me awhile to realize that they protruded.
One time, a boy said my breasts were concave.
I found a dollar once, underneath a breast. In the morning, I saw the tooth I'd placed under my pillow was gone.
It's not that my ling lings are small, I don't think they are. I wrote a song when I was 21 about how small they were. Sometimes I sing it. But then people say, "You're boobs aren't THAT small." I start vomiting and call them liars.
It seems like they've actually grown a lot. They've grown and gotten better, without surgery. I don't know what happened. It's like I now have the tits I always wanted when I was 16. It seems like it would have made a bigger difference then. Like, maybe I could have been popular in high school. But now, no one cares. It seems like ALL my friends boobs are great.
Sometimes I like to look at my boobs in the mirror. I squeeze them and then quickly punch them afterwards so God doesn't get mad.
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
MOVING CAN BE FUN
Especially when you have a friend named Jessica Delfino who comes over to your house and takes your old clothes and practically forces you to pay for half of her lunch.
LIBRARIES CAN BE FUN
Especially when you find a book about dreams that really "speaks" to you, and then two adorable but poorly raised kids loudly sit at the table you're quietly reading at and demand you watch them color for the next fifteen minutes.
TACO BELL CAN BE FUN
Especially when you only have three dollars and they sell those god damn enormous half-pound bean burrito especiales (how the hell can you turn down a half-pound especiale anything?) for one dollar. At that price they must be making them in sweat shops in a foreign land. Either that, or it's not even real bean...it's actually beef, which is cheaper than bean.
HURRICANES CAN BE FUN
Especially when they happen somewhere far away from where you live, and you can watch them on tv without any fear of their mighty power.
RIDING YOQR BIKE IN THE RAIN CAN BE FUN
Especially when you haven't showered in awhile.
Especially when you have a friend named Jessica Delfino who comes over to your house and takes your old clothes and practically forces you to pay for half of her lunch.
LIBRARIES CAN BE FUN
Especially when you find a book about dreams that really "speaks" to you, and then two adorable but poorly raised kids loudly sit at the table you're quietly reading at and demand you watch them color for the next fifteen minutes.
TACO BELL CAN BE FUN
Especially when you only have three dollars and they sell those god damn enormous half-pound bean burrito especiales (how the hell can you turn down a half-pound especiale anything?) for one dollar. At that price they must be making them in sweat shops in a foreign land. Either that, or it's not even real bean...it's actually beef, which is cheaper than bean.
HURRICANES CAN BE FUN
Especially when they happen somewhere far away from where you live, and you can watch them on tv without any fear of their mighty power.
RIDING YOQR BIKE IN THE RAIN CAN BE FUN
Especially when you haven't showered in awhile.
Monday, August 22, 2005
Your Music Lesson For The Day...and sadly, and obit.
Moogs are uber popular, but do you know what one is? A Moog is a crazy strange piano-sort-of looking instrument with knobs and levers and buttons which you can push and twist and tweak to create some of the oddest sounds imaginable. A lot of those mysterious synth sounds which we have heard in all the old 70s songs were made using Moogs. Yes, Pink Floyd, Manfred Mann, Led Zeppelin and many other superstars of the 70s and up to today all used Moogs. Rick Wakeman of Yes is still doing work with the Moog Foundation. (He's apparently an executive on the board...) Sadly, the father of the moog, Bob Moog, passed away. His obit and more information is below.
To learn more about moogs, google the word "moog".
From Maximumink.com...
BOB MOOG Dies at 71 of Terminal Brain Cancer
Bob died this afternoon at his home in Asheville, N.C. He was 71. Bob was diagnosed with brain cancer (glioblastoma multiforme or GBM) in late April 2005. He had received both radiation treatment and chemotherapy to help combat the disease. He is survived by his wife, Ileana, his five children, Laura Moog Lanier, Matthew Moog, Michelle Moog-Koussa, Renee Moog, and Miranda Richmond; and the mother of his children, Shirleigh Moog.
Bob was warm and outgoing. He enjoyed meeting people from all over the world. He especially appreciated what Ileana referred to as "the magical connection" between music-makers and their instruments.
A public Memorial Celebration is planned for The Orange Peel for noon, Wednesday, August 24th. Fans and friends can also direct their sympathies or remembrances to Caring Bridge
Bob's family has established The Bob Moog Foundation dedicated to the Advancement of Electronic Music in his memory. Many of his longtime collaborators including musicians, engineers and educators have agreed to sit on its executive board including David Borden, Wendy Carlos, Joel Chadabpe, John Eaton, David Mash, and Rick Wakeman. For more information about the foundation, contact Matthew Moog at mattmoog@yahoo.com.
Thursday, August 18, 2005
THEIR Um, HEART WAS IN THE RIGHT PLACE....
So, NY Press put a big nice pic of me on page 31 in their MUSIC section, but here's where it goes wrong:
1. The caption says, "Where Sarah Silverman steals her material". Sarah Silverman is funnier than me. Why would she steal my material? So SHE can live in a hot, smelly chinatown shanty and go from getting paid and dating Jimmy Kimmel to NOT getting paid and dating CXB? If her desire is to be more like me, I encourage her to dive into the Delf mess.
2. I'm not performing on that show. I was supposed to, but had to cancel to perform for the weekend down near Baltimore. All Stars Comedy Cafe is the name of the place. It's in a mall. In a restaurant called Jillian's. Someplace called Arundel Mills. I'm actually pretty excited. I'm getting paid - fuck yeah! I'm white.
A JOKE ABOUT HORSES.
Horse: Hey horse, did you hear about that bad heroin that is going around? People are using it and then they die.
Other Horse: I wish that would happen to me.
Ooooh, also,
3. NY Press forgot to credit the photograher, who is my friend, Nico.
And finally, this is neat:
4. Diane O'Debra is on the right in the red dress in an ad for Jennifer Blowdryer's play, White Trash Debutante (which I saw and was really just simply put, very good. And Diane was particularly terrific.) (www.odebratwins.com)
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
Vegetarian Bucks The System
by Jessica Delfino
I have a doubly restricted diet - I'm a vegetarian, and I'm poor. So, where do the poor vegetarians of this city turn? How about Taco Bell?
The Taco Bell near my house sells lots of stuff for around a buck. You can get a yummy apple caramel dessert thingy for a buck, a drink for a buck, pintos n' rice for a buck, the old bean burritos are like, 79 cents, and now, they have this new 1/2 pound burrito that is massive and delicious. It's beans (mostly lard, I'm sure, but lard of the finest taste and quality I assure you) and melted cheese. And it's only a buck! If you're lucky, you may even have an exchange like the one I had there, free of charge:
I entered Taco Bell in my aqua colored skirt and orange tank top, looking as good as a two piece with a biscuit. A dread-headed black man who was not a hippy immediately began to devour me with his eyeballs. He started making sucking sounds, to indicate that I am probably delicious. I couldn't tell by his expression if he wanted to make love to me or murder me, so I just assumed it was both.
MAN: Hey, girl...you're looking fine today...
ME: Hello, sir. I thank you for your compliment.
MAN: You looking for a boyfriend?
ME: Well, no, actually, I came here to get a burrito.
A few people in line chuckled. I thought the man was going to get angry, but then he smiled to tell me a story in teeth.
MAN: You funny.
ME: Thanks.
MAN: What's your number?
ME: I guess I'm....fourth.
MAN: Ha, ha, you funny.
ME: Ha, ha, thanks.
MAN: I'll see you later.
ME: That sounds great!
Taco Bell's attached to KFC are good, too. Then, you can get corn for a buck, a side of cole slaw or mashed potatos for a buck, those yummy ass fries for a buck....
A lot of people want to know WHY I'm a vegetarian, and WHY I don't eat meat, and they want me to EXPLAIN my eating habits and principles, and simply put, how can one not be vegetarian when Taco Bell is so cheap? Burgers are like, $4! I can't afford to eat fatty, heart-unhealthy, anti-animal meat products. I only wish!
Hey guy who provides beef for people, go fuck yourself! I'll take my delicious, animal-friendly, vegetarian lard roll.
by Jessica Delfino
I have a doubly restricted diet - I'm a vegetarian, and I'm poor. So, where do the poor vegetarians of this city turn? How about Taco Bell?
The Taco Bell near my house sells lots of stuff for around a buck. You can get a yummy apple caramel dessert thingy for a buck, a drink for a buck, pintos n' rice for a buck, the old bean burritos are like, 79 cents, and now, they have this new 1/2 pound burrito that is massive and delicious. It's beans (mostly lard, I'm sure, but lard of the finest taste and quality I assure you) and melted cheese. And it's only a buck! If you're lucky, you may even have an exchange like the one I had there, free of charge:
I entered Taco Bell in my aqua colored skirt and orange tank top, looking as good as a two piece with a biscuit. A dread-headed black man who was not a hippy immediately began to devour me with his eyeballs. He started making sucking sounds, to indicate that I am probably delicious. I couldn't tell by his expression if he wanted to make love to me or murder me, so I just assumed it was both.
MAN: Hey, girl...you're looking fine today...
ME: Hello, sir. I thank you for your compliment.
MAN: You looking for a boyfriend?
ME: Well, no, actually, I came here to get a burrito.
A few people in line chuckled. I thought the man was going to get angry, but then he smiled to tell me a story in teeth.
MAN: You funny.
ME: Thanks.
MAN: What's your number?
ME: I guess I'm....fourth.
MAN: Ha, ha, you funny.
ME: Ha, ha, thanks.
MAN: I'll see you later.
ME: That sounds great!
Taco Bell's attached to KFC are good, too. Then, you can get corn for a buck, a side of cole slaw or mashed potatos for a buck, those yummy ass fries for a buck....
A lot of people want to know WHY I'm a vegetarian, and WHY I don't eat meat, and they want me to EXPLAIN my eating habits and principles, and simply put, how can one not be vegetarian when Taco Bell is so cheap? Burgers are like, $4! I can't afford to eat fatty, heart-unhealthy, anti-animal meat products. I only wish!
Hey guy who provides beef for people, go fuck yourself! I'll take my delicious, animal-friendly, vegetarian lard roll.
Tuesday, August 9, 2005
OTTTBLOLWSIFOL (Other Things To Type Besides LOL When Something Is Funny On Line)
by Jessica Delfino
I think it's a really good idea to stop using "LOL" unless you are trying to explain that after you wrote or read something in an email, you actually and truly LAUGHED OUT LOUD.
For example, I wrote something to someone in an email, and then wrote LQTM, which means LAUGHED QUIETLY TO MYSELF. Because that's what I did.
YOU MIGHT ALSO TRY:
sol - sort of laughing
nlao - not laughing at all
gaol - giggling annoyingly out loud
coapoc - choking on a piece of corn
lshism - laughing so hard i shit myself
slapbmpntmtwtgpwtl - snorting loudly and publicly because my parents never told me that was the grossest possible way to laugh
garme - groaning and rolling my eyes
atcsbmbaomatb - about to commit suicide because my bills are overwhelming my ability to breathe
...and so on.
Try it today!
by Jessica Delfino
I think it's a really good idea to stop using "LOL" unless you are trying to explain that after you wrote or read something in an email, you actually and truly LAUGHED OUT LOUD.
For example, I wrote something to someone in an email, and then wrote LQTM, which means LAUGHED QUIETLY TO MYSELF. Because that's what I did.
YOU MIGHT ALSO TRY:
sol - sort of laughing
nlao - not laughing at all
gaol - giggling annoyingly out loud
coapoc - choking on a piece of corn
lshism - laughing so hard i shit myself
slapbmpntmtwtgpwtl - snorting loudly and publicly because my parents never told me that was the grossest possible way to laugh
garme - groaning and rolling my eyes
atcsbmbaomatb - about to commit suicide because my bills are overwhelming my ability to breathe
...and so on.
Try it today!
Friday, August 5, 2005
JESSICA DELFINO LIFE NEWS
In this episode, I try to make my boring life seem interesting!
In the news today:
###HOTTER THAN HELL OUTSIDE
###CON ED IS WORKING ON THE STREET IN FRONT OF MY HOUSE
###I'M WEARING A JEAN SKIRT RIGHT NOW
HOTTER THAN HELL OUTSIDE
Have any of you ever been to hell before? It's fucking hot there. Satan runs the thermostat and he's a total jewish person* with the air conditioning. I've never been to hell, but I know everything there is to know about hell from reading comic books, the bible and thanks to various joke forwards and comedians' sets. Plus, I have a feeling I'll get to visit someday.
Anyway, JESUS - it's hotter than HELL outside today, according to the temperatures I've read that hell can reach. But luckily for me, I have a friend who spends a lot of money on being comfortable. He bought a big house and fitted it with one of those air conditioners that if used inappropriately could blow the walls out of your home and create a small tornado. It's so cold that it enables me to use my vagina as an ice machine. That's cold!
*NOTE: It's okay if I write that, because the person who's house I'm at is Jewish. There's actually some irony there in that the Jewish person who's house I'm at actually uses his A/C like a normal person. So, I'm round-about-ly complimenting Jewish people and Satan. I hate how I have to explain anything challenging on my blog or else everyone will get pissed off. Watch - by the end of the day I'll have received at least three angry emails from Jewish people and Satanists and several happy ones from racists and Jesus.
CON ED IS WORKING ON THE STREET IN FRONT OF MY HOUSE
For three days now, there have been several Con Ed utility vehicles, trucks, vans, cop cars, fire trucks and dudes with moustaches all around the area of Allen and Broome, near where I reside. All the manholes are open and people are climbing in and out of them, as if they're hanging out at some guy's house who lives underground. It's really hot out (as mentioned in above article) and I can't imagine how those dudes can be climbing in and out of those holes. I wonder if they are having any flash backs to birth or are making any jokes or references to wombs as they do this work.
Some guy got zapped yesterday, either on a manhole cover or by some wire. The story I heard from one of the men (I stopped and asked) was that they had some electrical problems and a lot of the electricity went out in my neighborhood. It didn't go out in my building. I live in a fancy building with marble walls and floors, and an elevator. I think that it's probably one of the fanciest buildings on the block. Secretly, I think the power didn't go off in my building because a gang leader lives there. I hope the people who have no power have something else they can use, like a generator or magic.
I'M WEARING A JEAN SKIRT RIGHT NOW
It's true. It's a cut-off jean skirt that is all frayed at the bottom. I think I either got it at a second hand store or found it in a bag of clothes in the hallway of my old apartment building. It's a little big for me, but I wear it anyway. I even wear it sometimes when I'm riding my bike. That's considered "inappropriate" by some, but I don't mind being inappropriate. I tie a jacket around my waist and the sleeves cover up the area where my special spots are.
Plus, didn't you read the first article? It's fucking hotter than hell outside today.
It's almost as if God invented summer to help propagate the species. I think perhaps we should ask the mayor to change the name from summer to fuck season, because I appreciate bluntness in conversation.
In this episode, I try to make my boring life seem interesting!
In the news today:
###HOTTER THAN HELL OUTSIDE
###CON ED IS WORKING ON THE STREET IN FRONT OF MY HOUSE
###I'M WEARING A JEAN SKIRT RIGHT NOW
HOTTER THAN HELL OUTSIDE
Have any of you ever been to hell before? It's fucking hot there. Satan runs the thermostat and he's a total jewish person* with the air conditioning. I've never been to hell, but I know everything there is to know about hell from reading comic books, the bible and thanks to various joke forwards and comedians' sets. Plus, I have a feeling I'll get to visit someday.
Anyway, JESUS - it's hotter than HELL outside today, according to the temperatures I've read that hell can reach. But luckily for me, I have a friend who spends a lot of money on being comfortable. He bought a big house and fitted it with one of those air conditioners that if used inappropriately could blow the walls out of your home and create a small tornado. It's so cold that it enables me to use my vagina as an ice machine. That's cold!
*NOTE: It's okay if I write that, because the person who's house I'm at is Jewish. There's actually some irony there in that the Jewish person who's house I'm at actually uses his A/C like a normal person. So, I'm round-about-ly complimenting Jewish people and Satan. I hate how I have to explain anything challenging on my blog or else everyone will get pissed off. Watch - by the end of the day I'll have received at least three angry emails from Jewish people and Satanists and several happy ones from racists and Jesus.
CON ED IS WORKING ON THE STREET IN FRONT OF MY HOUSE
For three days now, there have been several Con Ed utility vehicles, trucks, vans, cop cars, fire trucks and dudes with moustaches all around the area of Allen and Broome, near where I reside. All the manholes are open and people are climbing in and out of them, as if they're hanging out at some guy's house who lives underground. It's really hot out (as mentioned in above article) and I can't imagine how those dudes can be climbing in and out of those holes. I wonder if they are having any flash backs to birth or are making any jokes or references to wombs as they do this work.
Some guy got zapped yesterday, either on a manhole cover or by some wire. The story I heard from one of the men (I stopped and asked) was that they had some electrical problems and a lot of the electricity went out in my neighborhood. It didn't go out in my building. I live in a fancy building with marble walls and floors, and an elevator. I think that it's probably one of the fanciest buildings on the block. Secretly, I think the power didn't go off in my building because a gang leader lives there. I hope the people who have no power have something else they can use, like a generator or magic.
I'M WEARING A JEAN SKIRT RIGHT NOW
It's true. It's a cut-off jean skirt that is all frayed at the bottom. I think I either got it at a second hand store or found it in a bag of clothes in the hallway of my old apartment building. It's a little big for me, but I wear it anyway. I even wear it sometimes when I'm riding my bike. That's considered "inappropriate" by some, but I don't mind being inappropriate. I tie a jacket around my waist and the sleeves cover up the area where my special spots are.
Plus, didn't you read the first article? It's fucking hotter than hell outside today.
It's almost as if God invented summer to help propagate the species. I think perhaps we should ask the mayor to change the name from summer to fuck season, because I appreciate bluntness in conversation.
Monday, August 1, 2005
Sunday, July 31, 2005
The Story of the Fake Tooth in me
by Jessica Delfino
TRUE STORY: One of my front teeth is fake.
I got pushed off a boat by my dad when I was about 6. Does that sound harsh to you, the reader? It probably sounds less harsh than it actually was.
First of all, my dad was my step-dad, not even my real dad. He probably had no right to be pushing me anywhere. We were in a dinghy (another word for boat) fishing in the reeds in a river in Maine. I sat aperched upon the boat's siderail, life-vest framing my face and body like a dramatic and ugly hair-do. My dad said, "Hey Jess, wanna go swimming?" I looked up at him, a blue-eyed-doe-eyed girl in all my 6 year old glory, and squawkily replied with trust, with love, with naivete', "Yeah, dad!" He then briskly shoved me into the murky, shallow waters, whence I immediately smashed my face and teeth into the side of the boat in a panicked frenzy of gasping and hand-thrashing. I was a very insecure child.
THIS IS WHY, I BELIEVE, I WAS AN INSECURE CHILD:
When I was five, I saw my mom get locked inside a laundry mat. She had been drying her wets, and the mean man said it was closing time, half an hour early. My mom said, "I still have a half hour, mister," and he said, "It's my mini-evil empire, and if I say beat it, you gotta beat it." So, my mom said, "I'm not leaving til my laundry's done, buddy." So, the guy locked her in the damp laundry store. My mom is a strong, doesn't take any shit kind of mom. So, her next move was to pick up the chair-attached-to-table-attached-to-chair and lunge it over her head through the plate glass window, like some medieval war heroine. (Xena, She-ra, etc.)
The guy promptly started shitting in his pants. He said, "Now, I'm gonna have you arrested!" She climbed out the window, yelling, "Now, I'm gonna kick your ass!"
A chase ensued, and my Aunt, who had been watching the whole thing with me in the parking lot took me inside so I wouldn't be witness to the bloody beating which the bad man was about to experience.
Later, my mom would come home and hide the pot pipe, just moments before I watched her get arrested by the police. I was such a cute kid. I remember asking the cop, "Are you gonna take my mom to jail?" I thought it might help.
This all seems much funnier in my head than it's actually probably coming out.
HENCE: I feared my mother would be taken away from me for the remainder of my childhood. That feeling gave way to the fear in my teens that she would never leave me alone.
WHICH BRINGS US BACK TO: He then briskly shoved me into the murky, shallow waters, whence I immediately smashed my face and teeth into the side of the boat in a panicked frenzy of gasping and hand-thrashing.
A chunk of my front tooth about the size of a pea is rotting as we speak on the bottom of the muddy river of Jefferson, Maine's Damariscotta Lake. Unless a fish ate it, got caught, and then went into a person/bear's tummy. Then it's in the woods somewhere.
My dad refused to fix my broken tooth, (which perhaps eventually led to my broken youth) and insisted I instead brave the evil child years of grammar school with half a front tooth. I believe this is part of the reason I nick-named him dookey daddy over dinner one night. My sisters and I chanted this at him, forks in hand banging on the table, as all we sat eating dinner. It infuriated him so badly, he screamed at us, stopped to spit his food out, screamed at us some more, then picked the chewed up bite of steak back up, put it in his mouth and finished chewing it when he was done yelling.
LATER: In college, I got a job at Banana Republic. Part of my job was to make a spiffy khaki display using these plexiglas sheets covered in some kind of contact tape. Another part of my job was to peel the sheets of contact tape off. As I did this to one, it came flying up and hit me in the chipped tooth, and chipped it some more. I reported my chip in my chipped tooth to a supervisor, and she insisted I leave and go to the local Banana Republic dentist to get it looked at right away. I did. And got paid to do that!
In his office, he told me that he could remove the whole tooth and replace it with this special space-age porcelain (the same stuff they make toilets with) which is exactly like a tooth in every way. It feels like a tooth, looks like a tooth, tastes like a tooth, even reflects light - just like a real tooth. They are made in Sweden using some kind of hi-tech computer generating thing, and cost $10,000 each. He said it would be Banana Republic's treat. I said yes.
During the whole ordeal, I had a fake fake front tooth for awhile. He made it out of some shittier crap that wasn't like a real tooth at all. It was like a huge piece of obvious. It could have been corn or chicklets, or some other foodthing. It was grosser than gross. But then, I got my new big white ten grand tooth.
FAST FORWARD, 7 YEARS to PUSSYCAT LOUNGE, NYC:
During a performance with my band, I accidentally smashed my front tooth with the microphone in a particularly passionate performance, and re-cracked my ten thousand dollar tooth.
I guess some things were meant to be, and one of them was that there was meant to be a chipped front tooth in me.
by Jessica Delfino
TRUE STORY: One of my front teeth is fake.
I got pushed off a boat by my dad when I was about 6. Does that sound harsh to you, the reader? It probably sounds less harsh than it actually was.
First of all, my dad was my step-dad, not even my real dad. He probably had no right to be pushing me anywhere. We were in a dinghy (another word for boat) fishing in the reeds in a river in Maine. I sat aperched upon the boat's siderail, life-vest framing my face and body like a dramatic and ugly hair-do. My dad said, "Hey Jess, wanna go swimming?" I looked up at him, a blue-eyed-doe-eyed girl in all my 6 year old glory, and squawkily replied with trust, with love, with naivete', "Yeah, dad!" He then briskly shoved me into the murky, shallow waters, whence I immediately smashed my face and teeth into the side of the boat in a panicked frenzy of gasping and hand-thrashing. I was a very insecure child.
THIS IS WHY, I BELIEVE, I WAS AN INSECURE CHILD:
When I was five, I saw my mom get locked inside a laundry mat. She had been drying her wets, and the mean man said it was closing time, half an hour early. My mom said, "I still have a half hour, mister," and he said, "It's my mini-evil empire, and if I say beat it, you gotta beat it." So, my mom said, "I'm not leaving til my laundry's done, buddy." So, the guy locked her in the damp laundry store. My mom is a strong, doesn't take any shit kind of mom. So, her next move was to pick up the chair-attached-to-table-attached-to-chair and lunge it over her head through the plate glass window, like some medieval war heroine. (Xena, She-ra, etc.)
The guy promptly started shitting in his pants. He said, "Now, I'm gonna have you arrested!" She climbed out the window, yelling, "Now, I'm gonna kick your ass!"
A chase ensued, and my Aunt, who had been watching the whole thing with me in the parking lot took me inside so I wouldn't be witness to the bloody beating which the bad man was about to experience.
Later, my mom would come home and hide the pot pipe, just moments before I watched her get arrested by the police. I was such a cute kid. I remember asking the cop, "Are you gonna take my mom to jail?" I thought it might help.
This all seems much funnier in my head than it's actually probably coming out.
HENCE: I feared my mother would be taken away from me for the remainder of my childhood. That feeling gave way to the fear in my teens that she would never leave me alone.
WHICH BRINGS US BACK TO: He then briskly shoved me into the murky, shallow waters, whence I immediately smashed my face and teeth into the side of the boat in a panicked frenzy of gasping and hand-thrashing.
A chunk of my front tooth about the size of a pea is rotting as we speak on the bottom of the muddy river of Jefferson, Maine's Damariscotta Lake. Unless a fish ate it, got caught, and then went into a person/bear's tummy. Then it's in the woods somewhere.
My dad refused to fix my broken tooth, (which perhaps eventually led to my broken youth) and insisted I instead brave the evil child years of grammar school with half a front tooth. I believe this is part of the reason I nick-named him dookey daddy over dinner one night. My sisters and I chanted this at him, forks in hand banging on the table, as all we sat eating dinner. It infuriated him so badly, he screamed at us, stopped to spit his food out, screamed at us some more, then picked the chewed up bite of steak back up, put it in his mouth and finished chewing it when he was done yelling.
LATER: In college, I got a job at Banana Republic. Part of my job was to make a spiffy khaki display using these plexiglas sheets covered in some kind of contact tape. Another part of my job was to peel the sheets of contact tape off. As I did this to one, it came flying up and hit me in the chipped tooth, and chipped it some more. I reported my chip in my chipped tooth to a supervisor, and she insisted I leave and go to the local Banana Republic dentist to get it looked at right away. I did. And got paid to do that!
In his office, he told me that he could remove the whole tooth and replace it with this special space-age porcelain (the same stuff they make toilets with) which is exactly like a tooth in every way. It feels like a tooth, looks like a tooth, tastes like a tooth, even reflects light - just like a real tooth. They are made in Sweden using some kind of hi-tech computer generating thing, and cost $10,000 each. He said it would be Banana Republic's treat. I said yes.
During the whole ordeal, I had a fake fake front tooth for awhile. He made it out of some shittier crap that wasn't like a real tooth at all. It was like a huge piece of obvious. It could have been corn or chicklets, or some other foodthing. It was grosser than gross. But then, I got my new big white ten grand tooth.
FAST FORWARD, 7 YEARS to PUSSYCAT LOUNGE, NYC:
During a performance with my band, I accidentally smashed my front tooth with the microphone in a particularly passionate performance, and re-cracked my ten thousand dollar tooth.
I guess some things were meant to be, and one of them was that there was meant to be a chipped front tooth in me.
Saturday, July 30, 2005
Notice the "P" in this POOL
I walked around the other scorching, stifling day to try to find some sweet relief in the form of a chlorinated, over-crowded pool. I found a nice pool on Thompson St. near Spring St. and my heart welled with sweaty joy until I realized it was a children-only pool. What do kids know about being hot and overworked? Why should they get all the cool water? Why isn't there a 29 year olds only pool somewhere?
So, I took an over-heated walk over to the pool at Varick St. and Carmine, and when I got there, I noticed the pool was swarming with sharks - the men kind. It was also just about to shut down for a break, I assume to torture hot New Yorkers so that when they opened it back up it'd seem that much more awesome.
As I was walking away, I rounded the corner and noticed the line - about 150 loud teenage people long. If that wasn't intimidating enough - there was a sign that read, "No bathroom available until 5:30 PM." That meant when the pool opened at 4, there'd be no place to "go" for an hour and a half - no place, that is...except for a cool, chlorinated body of water encased in plastic and tile.
New York City really puts the poop in pool. Why not just have a public shit and piss pit? Knowing this city, it's slated for 2006. I won't be surprised if they even charge admission.
It's disturbing to know that in a city with a budget of 50 Billion dollars, they can't toss a grand to the toilet department at the public pool.
I walked around the other scorching, stifling day to try to find some sweet relief in the form of a chlorinated, over-crowded pool. I found a nice pool on Thompson St. near Spring St. and my heart welled with sweaty joy until I realized it was a children-only pool. What do kids know about being hot and overworked? Why should they get all the cool water? Why isn't there a 29 year olds only pool somewhere?
So, I took an over-heated walk over to the pool at Varick St. and Carmine, and when I got there, I noticed the pool was swarming with sharks - the men kind. It was also just about to shut down for a break, I assume to torture hot New Yorkers so that when they opened it back up it'd seem that much more awesome.
As I was walking away, I rounded the corner and noticed the line - about 150 loud teenage people long. If that wasn't intimidating enough - there was a sign that read, "No bathroom available until 5:30 PM." That meant when the pool opened at 4, there'd be no place to "go" for an hour and a half - no place, that is...except for a cool, chlorinated body of water encased in plastic and tile.
New York City really puts the poop in pool. Why not just have a public shit and piss pit? Knowing this city, it's slated for 2006. I won't be surprised if they even charge admission.
It's disturbing to know that in a city with a budget of 50 Billion dollars, they can't toss a grand to the toilet department at the public pool.
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