Wha?

John Fiedler, 80, Stage Actor and Film Voice of Pooh's Piglet, Dies

and

Paul Winchell, 82, TV Host and Film Voice of Pooh's Tigger, Dies

It's a sad day for Christopher Robin, huh?

I WILL have a Dannon Day! Thank you!

My Dannon informs me, via the aluminum lid, that it contains vitamin B12, which helps maintain healthy nerve cells and red blood cells. You know what, Dannon? I think I had intuited that.

I've been eating you every day for the past few weeks and I've been feeling so robust, so virile, as if my bones were full of semen waiting to be ejaculated through my temples with the next incredibly creative and resourceful idea. Like Spiderman, I can point and shoot protein from my index finger into the faces of passing children. That's how strong I feel. Thank you, Dannon, for making me feel, well, like a sack of cum about to burst at the very seams!

Summer Cramp

I just got off the phone with my 8 yr-old half sister, Corille, and she just told me how she ziplined into the lake at camp. I would like to remind everyone that this is the same sister who fell into my grandmother's open grave at my grandmother's funeral, while singing "Grandma Lila is Dead."


Anyway, I just got a little nostalgic, now that it's summertime, for my very own all-girl, uber-WASPy Camp Merrie-Woode. Camp Merrie-Woode, unlike other Camps, does not focus on the traditions of Native Americans. Its heritage surrounds the folklore of the King Arthur tale and the campers who've been to camp the most number of years are asked to participate in the coveted reenactment of the Round Table followed by the search for the Holy Grail. Picture tiny Jessica Simpsons dressed as knights.

I also miss the uniforms.

Camp Merrie Woode:


Parent Trap 1961:

Pretty much the same.

And the archery, I miss the archery.

Amazingly, Google search result for "debonair"

Le Douche

I just google image searched the word "douchebag" and our group photo pops up at the top of the list. Oops. They've found us out...

Sunny Came Home

In case anyone wanted to know, the best way to really cap off an evening of mind-blowing karaoke is to sing "Sunny Came Home" by Shawn Colvin. Now, I have been told by many a person that my voice sounds something like a wailing baby seal.


Nothing, however, brings that out more than the saddest, whiniest song ever. The tough high notes are what really declare to the audience that Sunny is in trouble. Unfortunately though, I was unable to accurately portray the emotional range of this song as I tripped over most of the non-chorus lines and employed some haphazard dance moves to cover. But as I was trying to figure out what I was supposed to be singing, I looked into the audience for guidance.


To my surprise, there was a slew of serious looking punk rockers (piercings, mohawks, ripped tights, tattoos, tiny pants, etc), who knew all of the words and sang along...with feeling. And not only did they sing along to "Sunny Came Home," but they sang along to Celine Dion, show tunes, and other adult contemporary classics. Those pussies guided me until the last note and my douchey little heart was full.

Big Wiener Night

After much careful hard work and preparation,

The Wieners are putting on a kickass show at Juvie Hall.

"Wish You Were Here!"
Every Thursday in June
Juvie Hall, 24 Bond St bw Bowery and Lafayette
$7

meow.

Hey stranger, pay for my pap!

nothing delights me more than discovering that when I took a newspaper out of my knapsack at the bar yesterday, an invoice from my gynocologist which was next to it in my bag must have also fallen out. So if someone could just pay my $15 copay I'd really appreciate it, and if you could do it without reading the $400 worth of services that my insurance covered and explained in detail on the form, that'd also be great. thanks, drunk stranger!

A Birthday for a Clown?

Today, 24 years ago, a baby with dark curly hair and chinese eyes emerged from her Finnish mother's womb.


The baby was promptly slapped on the buttocks with a piece of salmon and placed in a crib filled with stuffed animals whose names were their species with a "y" attached to the end (i.e. Liony, penguiny, beary, and stegosaurusy).


Julia Langbein has since grown into a beautiful young woman, who drinks like a blind old man. We love you Julia, because you own a fart machine and you cry whenever you see anything. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!

If you'd like to watch my heart stop beating

like a hummingbird strangled by an invisible fart, please deliver yourself promptly to 330 W 42nd Street, 14th Floor. Bring a time machine and binoculars so that you can watch from a distance without interfering as I drink 6 large iced coffees, one of them Marshmallow flavor, to eek the last beadlets of moisture out of the dehydrated whiskey-reeking fossil which is my body.



Also this just in: from now on, I will exclusively say "good bye" in the form of "ALOHA".

My pervy brain

wont stop singing the same chorus over and over: "Who's that lady?" "Hey Foxy lady!" "Who's that lady?" "Hey foxy lady!" "Who's that lady?"

et cetera.

Well at least I don't have that song in my head about Gary Oldman getting a jerry curl...

Dear Lang's Mountain Man:

I knew you were something special when I noticed that you were three times longer than all of Lang. When I noticed your hipbone was at my temple, I thought, "wow." But Mountain Man friend of Lang's, why didn't you tell me that your sleeves were stuffed with medical marijuana?

Hey Mountain Man, if you're looking for a hard court to play four square on, I recommend the scorched earth of my fucking brain.