Archive for January 30, 2012

Warming up my slappin’ hand.

Eric Bolling:
You did what?!
You’re serious.
You did this in earnest.
You picked on some of the most beloved puppets in the world, and you got a “positive” response from your viewers for that? Dude, whatever (eyeroll).
So, due to this “encouragement,” you felt emboldened enough to make a debate challenge.
to. a piece. of felt.

Psst. Yo, Bolling.
Come here.
What did I tell you about messing with the Muppets?
What did I tell you?!

*smack* What is wrong with you?
*smack* Are you a grown man or what?
*smack* Don’t you have any respect?!
You disrespected the Little Green Guy, who’s been in the business for over fifty years, you dolt!
Those pieces of fabric are more beloved than you will EVER know!!
*inhale* But you know what? I’m not going to get more worked up about this. I don’t need to.
Because Kermit can speak for himself. And so can Miss Piggy.

You just got served. By Bacon.

That’s right. You just got your sorry butt handed to you by a sock with lashes!! WHAT!

*Sigh* I hadn’t even had my coffee yet.

Poster boys for sterilization


Oh, Santorum. I think you’re doing this on purpose. I really do.

So, in an effort to raise money for his campaign, he creates an organization called Conservatives Unite Moneybomb. *sigh* The title makes no sense, and given the new definition of his name that was bestowed upon him by Dan Savage,* I would be on the lookout for such acronyms being associated with your name, if I were you.

*For those who’ve read Savage Love or googled the word, you know what I mean. Those who have remained ignorant, I won’t describe it here. Suffice to say, ew.

But THIS is the biggest dumbass of the week.

Tennessee senator declares it is “virtually impossible” for heterosexuals to contract AIDS.

Senator Stacey Campfield of Tennessee apparently put the country at ease by informing them that AIDS is impossible to contract from heterosexual sex.

How comforting, Senator. I’m sure the nearly 17 million women in America with the HIV virus will be very happy to hear that.

Is he aware that he possesses the medical wisdom of a 10 year old boy?!

That statement is ignorant. I’m talking 1985 ignorant.


Stop breeding. I’m asking you nice.


OH, you’ve earned this.

Phil Parkinson.

I don’t know who this fool is, but he is responsible for THE most offensive marketing of the past year, and that includes the fool woman who did that ridiculous, glamorized domestic violence ad for her salon in Canada. No, really. This happened. For more details, check my archives.

I stopped everything I was doing specifically because this was too disgusting. This lands you in the oh, HELL no!! section of dumbasses.

Pictures of the Auschwitz, posing as a threat to calories?! Millions of people were starved, tortured, murdered and this location was base camp 1 for human injustice and your idea was to use this for your gym?! You showed no remorse, and were thrilled when your Google numbers went up!

To do something this crass for the sake of bringing up membership numbers in your gym, is reprehensible. You managed to bypass all of the Republican caucus nonsense and go straight to the head of the line. You win for the week, marketing genius!

It’s like I never left.


I’m getting real tired of seeing the inside of my eyelids.

Could someone please find his Grindr account and get this over with?!

Merry New Year!!

Well, I just enjoyed a champagne-soaked weekend.

It’s not as glamorous as it sounds.

Fun? yes. Glamorous? Not so much.

‘Cause you see, the whole holiday season was overrun with my show. The Gayest  Christmas Pageant Ever has pretty much been my life for the past three months. Appointments, holiday shopping, plans, friends, everything have taken a back seat to our run. Oh so many apologies to so many people. I’m not used to such a long run, taking me out of commission.

At any rate, I managed to get back in touch with my friends this weekend and finish my show. Friday, I dropped off Little Man at my mother’s to make sure my husband and I could make our shows. With an unscheduled stop at the on-ramp to the Lincoln Tunnel, thanks to some cranky woman who had to try to outrun the bus (brilliant tactical maneuver, by the way), I had time for an early dinner and my show.

We had an awesome crowd and our timing was fierce. A couple of friends saw the show and took me out for a nosh afterwards. Then, we raced uptown to a karaoke birthday party for one of my bandmates. I’m in the room 6 seconds, they shove a mic in my hand, next thing I know, I’m singing “Firework.” Ah, well. It was for a friend. Then cake and champagne were respectively eaten and spilled till one in the morning.  Go home, go sleep.

Next day. New Years’ Eve and closing night of the show. Sigh. Lots of props. Lots of drama. Lots of goodbyes. I’ll reflect on all of that another time.

A sensible woman would have gone home to rest. But I’m an actress. All pretense of sensibility went out the window the day I started chasing footlights.

So, I head waaaaay uptown to a friend’s house, where a quiet, intimate group, my husband and a margarita awaited me. Yeah, I made the right choice. We talked, laughed, shared homemade goodies in the comfort of an abode far from midtown’s madness (I may not be sensible, but I’m no knucklehead). We toasted the new year with champagne, kissed and cuddled till two in the morning. Go home, go sleep.

Next day, brunch with recently married friends. My first real attempt to get back in touch with my friends in what felt like ages. My husband and I traveled to Brooklyn to hang out for a grown-up brunch, with wedding talk and mimosas.


Knucklehead? Maybe not. But I sure am a glutton for punishment.

It was like I tried a holiday season’s worth of socializing in two and a half days. Won’t be trying that again for a while.

So now, life returns to semi-normal.  Completely normal is overrated.

New Year, New Chances. Back to school things, family things, auditions, and the pursuit of happiness.