|Wake up, James Franco|
Monday, February 28, 2011
Sunday, February 27, 2011
I kinda lost my jacket.
How do you lose a jacket?
I left it somewhere.
My friend's dorm. In the lounge.
Did someone take it?
Maybe. I don't know.
That was a nice jacket.
It kept me really warm.
Did you try to find it?
I looked around. It's not there.
So it's definitely lost.
Yeah. I'm sorry.
How do you lose a jacket?
I was a little drunk.
Posted by Carol Starr Schneider at 7:51 AM
Saturday, February 26, 2011
The SJG predicts the following may or may not happen at the 2011 Academy Awards: Queen Elizabeth will present Best Picture. Rooster Cogburn's horse will present Best Supporting Animal. The Real Housewives of Sherman Oaks will present Best Supporting Bitch. James Franco and Anne Hathaway will do a lengthy musical tribute to "Fiddler on the Roof."
Posted by Carol Starr Schneider at 8:37 AM
Friday, February 25, 2011
|Blunt Cards: snarky & hilarious|
For my cuzzy's intimate Oscar gathering, I'll be wearing my inner-beauty. Wrapping my heart in Vera Wang, pumping up my soul in Loubutins, detailing my aura in Tiffany. I'm schlepping the finery out of storage, hiring a stylist to bring out my love of humanity, my interior Mother Teresa. Should the crew from "What Not To Wear" drop by, to trash the personal mishegas I've worked so hard to own; should the fashion police declare me too dated on the inside, too "last season," I promise you, I will bring them down. You heard it here first, bitches.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
|Has anyone seen the SJG?|
When classified Naval documents are uploaded to Short Jewish Gal, a popular blog site, "NCIS: Sherman Oaks" works really hard to stop some bad stuff from happening. The handsome and super hunky stars track down the fetching owner of the blog site, Carol Starr Schneider, in her kitchen, cooking a nice chicken, but very miffed that someone used her site without asking first. The NCIS boys sit down and have a nosh and discuss what up with that. After the commerical break, the dudes trade off dancing with the SJG in the living room. One of them says, "Let's see those jazz hands," and she obliges. Delicious mandel bread and fruit compote soon follow. The handsome and super hunky stars promise to show the baddies who's in charge, plus figure out top-secret such n' such before the end of the episode. Best of all, they give the SJG their word they'll return for Passover. "We hear you make a wonderful brisket," they say. "I won't deny it," says the SJG, and sends them off with a care package in case they get hungry later.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
“First you must find... another shrubbery! Then, when you have found the shrubbery, you must place it here, beside this shrubbery, only slightly higher so you get a two layer effect with a little path running down the middle. Then, you must cut down the mightiest tree in the forest... with... a herring!” In honor of Monty Python, not to mention GW and the other prezzies, hubby cut down, not a cherry tree, but a heap of shrubbery. What started as "a little trimming" turned into a whole lot of tsuris. Short of a bonfire in the streets of Sherman Oaks, don't ask me how he plans to get rid of the branches, but then, this is not the SJG's department. Why can't he just play golf like other dudes on their day off?
Monday, February 21, 2011
|RSVP: Oh, hell yes!|
Posted by Carol Starr Schneider at 8:22 AM
Sunday, February 20, 2011
|Tell me again how buttons are made|
Hubby and I have very different ideas about home entertainment. He's happy to watch hours of the most mind-numbing programming ever created. It's his way of zoning out. The SJG demands an engaging plot, top quality acting, a big splashy musical number, and at least one studly specimen with tight abs, to make it worth my while. Hubby will watch a show about plumbing. I will watch a show that features a hunky plumber (like Mike on "Desperate Housewives.") Hubby will watch a show about how buttons are made. The SJG gets bored sewing a button on. But that doesn't mean I can't feign interest. I'm good for about five minutes and then my brain goes elsewhere. Hubby feigns interest in things that interest me, too. While one of us expounds on the exciting topic at hand -- why the Bruins suck, or why Jennifer Aniston can't find a man -- the other one nods, smiles and says pithy things like, "Oh, really!" and, "Wow," and, "Do tell!" In this way, and many others, we stay married.
Posted by Carol Starr Schneider at 7:50 AM
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Posted by Carol Starr Schneider at 8:19 AM
Friday, February 18, 2011
|Spa Concierge No More|
Posted by Carol Starr Schneider at 7:54 AM
Thursday, February 17, 2011
|Come to think of it, he did seem a little off|
Hot Valley Writers about a scary little boy who had it in for my youngest son. It's called "Kill Kotty."
Nothing prepared me for a scary little barefoot boy named Josef, who moved to the neighborhood with his huge Orthodox family. He liked to stand at the top of our driveway, watching Scotty, my then-eight year old, play basketball. Josef would tilt his head and say, in a freaky Damian-like slur, “Kill Kotty! Kill Kotty!” I wasn’t sure whether to take these death threats too seriously. But I couldn't just ignore them. The kid was a notorious rock thrower, and rumor had it he was capable of strange feats of strength, like bending back metal latches with his hands. Late at night, he'd crawl out of his second-story window, slide down the roof and ride his bike, barefoot, down busy streets.
Posted by Carol Starr Schneider at 7:33 AM
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Posted by Carol Starr Schneider at 7:30 AM
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
|NY Times Bestseller|
Posted by Carol Starr Schneider at 8:02 AM
Monday, February 14, 2011
|What did hubby give me this year?|
Posted by Carol Starr Schneider at 8:06 AM
Sunday, February 13, 2011
|Burnt croissant: what happens when the |
SJG doesn't pay attention
Posted by Carol Starr Schneider at 8:41 AM
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Every year, I try my best to look gorgeous on Valentine's Day. I pull out my finest fishnets, my skintight couture, my sky-high stilettos. I slap on my purple eye shadow, smear on my shiny red lipstick, rouge my cheeks and tease my hair into a fetching beehive, and wait for romance. Still, no takers. What am I doing wrong?
Confused in Sherman Oaks
Posted by Carol Starr Schneider at 8:59 AM
Friday, February 11, 2011
|The story of a cucumber left hubby unimpressed|
|Hubby picked Vasa over Vlasic|
Posted by Carol Starr Schneider at 7:58 AM
Thursday, February 10, 2011
The SJG feels compelled on a deep, spiritual level to share this A.I. clip with you. I laughed like a freakishly-possessed hyena when I saw it last night. But I'm crying on the inside, wishing I'd thought of it first. There is just no end to the talent pool in our fair nation.
Posted by Carol Starr Schneider at 7:39 AM
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
|SJG: Late bloomer|
Posted by Carol Starr Schneider at 9:26 AM
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Posted by Carol Starr Schneider at 8:49 AM
Monday, February 7, 2011
|The man, the myth, |
Posted by Carol Starr Schneider at 9:54 AM
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Posted by Carol Starr Schneider at 7:57 AM
Friday, February 4, 2011
Oh, the SJG has been feeling so smug, watching all the news reports about scary blizzards and hellish political hot spots. In recent days, the SJG has uttered the following smug sentiments: "Aren't you glad we're not back east?" and "Cancel the trip to Cairo." Thursday night, all that smugness came back to bite me in my well-endowed tuchas. Let's face it. Karma's a bitch.
Posted by Carol Starr Schneider at 10:03 AM
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Posted by Carol Starr Schneider at 8:11 AM
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
|The family name hits the streets|
Posted by Carol Starr Schneider at 9:02 AM