"Crazy, Stupid, Love" |
Sunday, July 31, 2011
See This
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Bagel Thief On The Loose
Could it be? |
Friday, July 29, 2011
Don't Try This At Home
The lifelong magician took his little sis on a guided tour of Houdini's Art & Magic at the Skirball, explaining the ins and outs of the Water Torture Cell (pass), the Milk Can (no thankie) and Metamorphosis Trunk (oy gevalt), tight locales that make this lifelong claustrophobe fidgetty to even comprehend. A companion exhibit covers Jewish Magicians of the Golden Age, with names like the Great Leon. I'm now contemplating a name upgrade, either to the Great Short Jewish Gal, or Excello,the Short Jewish Gal. Get your votes in early, before I head over to City Hall to make it official.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
The Handcuff King
Houdini: Jewish Escape Artist |
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Lights, Camera, Burgers
In-N-Out: Serious Burger Addiction |
Trying to escape intervention: Never a good idea |
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Say What? Say What?
'Cuz I'm cool like that: Scott D & D Mac |
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Get Thee To Burger King
All morning, I rehearsed how I'd deliver my one line in the eldest's latest short, currently filming in various Sherman Oaks locales, including freeway underpasses and dumpsters. My one line could be interpreted so many ways. A la Brando: "I coulda been somebody. I coulda gone to Burger King." A la Hamlet: "Get thee to Burger King!" A la Hemingway: "Oh, Jake,we could have had such a damned good time at Burger King. Isn't it pretty to think so?" After much rehearsal in front of the mirror, I decided to deliver my one line as written (by me) in the voice I know best, that of a whining, agitated worry wart: "Why couldn't you just go to Burger King?" Next stop: wardrobe. So many options. Go with my daily schlep-wear, or sex it up for the camera? I'd just covered the bed with costume choices, sweatpants, tank tops and cocktail dresses, when the call came from Billy. "We've been filming five hours. We're not going to do your scene today." I tried not to weep. I was so ready to do this, so amped. I'd found my motivation and everything. "So you're cutting me from the movie?" "No." "Just tell me, I can take it." "We're not cutting you. We'll film it next week." "Oh, thank God." I realized, this might be a good thing. The delay gives me more time to rehearse, to channel my maternal angst, to do a little rewriting, turn my one line into a poignant soliloquy: "How many times did I beg you to go to Burger King? How many times? I've lost count. God forbid you should listen to me. Your mother. The woman who gave birth to you, who spent 46 agonizing hours in labor. But no, you had to do things your way. You had to go to In-N-Out. And now, look what's happened to you. Look what's become of you, my son. Take a good, hard look." Better, right?
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Don't Make Me Beg
I am not interested in picking up crumbs of compassion thrown from the table of someone who considers himself my master. I want the full menu of rights.
-- Bishop Dusty Tutu
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
It's A Fridge
All day, well-wishers dropped by to meet the new fridge. They brought muffin baskets and briskets, balloons and casseroles, flowers and hand-knitted booties. "Mazel tov!" "Use it in the best of health!" "Oh, it's adorable." "Was it a long delivery?" "A fridge only a mother could love." "It's so shiny." "It's so pretty." "French doors? Fancy-schmancy." "Such a deal." "Such a mitzvah." "Oy, I'm so jealous." "Can I borrow your fridge?" "I hope you'll be very happy with your new fridge." "I've seen nicer." "I've seen bigger." "What's the big deal? It's a fridge." "Are you done bragging about your goddam fridge?" No.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Frost Bites
I made it out alive! |
Monday, July 18, 2011
Planned Obsolence
Brrrrr! |
Sunday, July 17, 2011
The Non-Event of the Century
The prevailing sentiment: Why can't every day be Carmageddon? No traffic. No road rage. No bumper-to-bumper. No pandemonium. L.A. is behaving itself, beautifully, so there. Take that, America. Y'all thought we'd freak out without our precious 405. Think again. We are handling it with customary style, humor and generosity. I'm talking discounts on every corner. Half-off for Carmageddon! Buy one, get one free for Carmageddon! Free parking for Carmageddon! In other words, Carmageddon doesn't suck. Au contraire. Carmageddon is bringing out the nicey-nice. It's all about Happy Carmageddon. Who would've thunk it? Just when you're ready to give up on the city and beam your butt elsewhere, L.A. says hang on a minute there, sistah. Set your tush back down. It's all good. It's just Carmageddon. Come Monday, we'll be back to the mean, the impatient, the get-out-of-my-eff'n-way, you giant turd. Till then, we've got one more day of nicey-nice. One more day of you first, oh please, I insist. One more day of good Carma. Oh man, I'm already feeling nostalgic.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Closure
What up with that? |
Endless boring news reports
No one's on the 405?
It's Carmageddon!
Long lines at the liquor store
Blended Carmaritas
Nine months later, babies born?
It's Carmageddon!
Celebs tweeting night and day
Don't go there, bitches! Stay away!
J-Lo's marriage gone kaput?
It's Carmageddon!
Friday, July 15, 2011
Ruff Weekend
"Excuse me, sir. I happened to notice you here in the kitchen. Do you have a moment to answer a few questions?" "What's in it for me?" "A treat." "As luck would have it, I'm available." "What are your plans for Carmageddon?" "I'll be taking the $4 JetBlue flight from Burbank to Long Beach." "You're kidding. Why?" "Mainly, the free snacks." "Any other plans?" "Oh, I might catch the new Harry Potter. I hear he dies." "Great, now you've spoiled it for everyone." "Then again, maybe he doesn't die." "That's better. Anything else?" "Laze around the pool. Nap. Sniff stuff." "One last question, sir. Are you at all worried that Carmageddon signals the end of the world as we know it?" "When you put it that way, no, not really. I think it's a great way to say 'woof you,' to all the naysayers out there who don't think we can get through this thing. But we can and we will. We'll show those a-holes what we're made of." "Thank you for your time, sir." "My pleasure. You said something about a treat?"
Thursday, July 14, 2011
A Questionable B&B
Book a room for Carmageddon |
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Here's The Story
R.I.P. Sherwood Schwartz |
"My Favorite Martian" |
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Monday, July 11, 2011
Got A Rocket In Your Pocket
Stay cool, boy |
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Casting Session
Alyssa as Casey Anthony |
Meredith Baxter as Cindy Anthony |
Saturday, July 9, 2011
The Contents of My Fridge
...displease the eldest |
Friday, July 8, 2011
Customer Kibitzer
I can't hear myself shop |
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Bad Carma
Carmageddon: Graphically-vehicular combat video games |
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Once Upon A Jury
(My obsession with a certain trial that just concluded so shockingly, I'm feeling completely meshuga, brings back memories of jury duty several years ago, a scary-ass time of police escorts and whatnot...)
The summons arrived in my mailbox and I stared at it in shock and disbelief. How dare they send me another summons for jury duty? Those bastards tried to trick me into jury duty just last year. It took me days to come up with a believable excuse that got me out of it. Just holding the envelope filled me with dread. It was tempting to rip the thing up or feed it to Dusty. But I'm such a good girl at heart, so easily guilted, that I decided, oh eff that, might as well suck it up. Hubby, a veteran of jury duty, humored me. “Don’t worry, they won’t pick you. You’ll be home before lunch.” Okay! I can do this! Bring it!
The summons arrived in my mailbox and I stared at it in shock and disbelief. How dare they send me another summons for jury duty? Those bastards tried to trick me into jury duty just last year. It took me days to come up with a believable excuse that got me out of it. Just holding the envelope filled me with dread. It was tempting to rip the thing up or feed it to Dusty. But I'm such a good girl at heart, so easily guilted, that I decided, oh eff that, might as well suck it up. Hubby, a veteran of jury duty, humored me. “Don’t worry, they won’t pick you. You’ll be home before lunch.” Okay! I can do this! Bring it!
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Mixed Reviews
The sons started mocking the hot dogs before they even took a bite, viewing them suspiciously, calling them stupid-looking and strange. This after their father unselfishly switched into b-b-q mode on his day off from grilling. His sons wanted b-b-q and ridicule, not gratitude, turned up on the menu. After such cruel mockery, it took hubby a moment to build his defense. "If I remember correctly, these hot dogs were rated number one by Consumer Reports. No nitrites, no fillers, all natural." Not the strongest opening statement. The jury broke into hysterical laughter. Natural anything holds zero appeal for two dudes who'd rather take up residence at In-N-Out than step foot in a Whole Foods. Still, the fact that their father knows the weirdest sh*t ultimately swayed them in the end. They gobbled their hot dogs without further kvetching. The verdict: "actually not that bad." What more could a father ask for on the Fourth of July?
Monday, July 4, 2011
Baking By Light Bulb
This morning I awoke with visions of my Easy-Bake Oven dancing in my head. How I loved my Easy-Bake Oven. I miss it so, even though I'm pretty sure everything I made by light bulb tasted like absolute ka-ka. My parents never let on. They always said, "Delish!" no matter what sort of rubbery tiny treat I put before them. Pizza and cake and pinky gooey candy. I want my Easy-Bake Oven back. It's the 4th of July. It's too darn hot for baking, but bake, I must. One more kugel? Coming right up. Forget chicken soup. Turns out, the SJG Kugel (trademark pending) is the best medicine. And while the oven's on 350, I'll be slipping in some brownies, too. Espresso chocolate chip. We're nearing 100 in Sherman Oaks. Baking by light bulb doesn't heat up the house. I want my Easy-Bake Oven back. I want it now. Have you seen it? I'm offering a nice tax-free reward. You can't put a price tag on hugs, can you? Don't just sit there, go find my Easy-Bake. Do me a mitzvah. Hurry. It's probably still in the garage of my old house on Lindbrook Drive, behind the box with my ballet slippers and Peanuts books. Come on now. Get going. What are you waiting for?
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Diva Act
The pretty purple flowers are a no-show |
Everywhere I go, they mock me |
Friday, July 1, 2011
Your Lack of Manners
And another thing... |
From: Carolyn Bourne (evil stepmother)
To: Heidi Withers (future daughter-in-law)
Subject: Your lack of manners
"Here are a few examples of your lack of manners:
When you are a guest in another's house, you do not declare what you will and will not eat, unless you are positively allergic to something.
You do not remark that you do not have enough food.
You do not start before everyone else.
You do not take additional helpings without being invited to by your host.
When a guest in another's house, you do not lie in bed until late morning in households that rise early; you fall in line with house norms.
You should never ever insult the family you are about to join at any time and most definitely not in public. I gather you passed this off as a joke but the reaction in the pub was one of shock, not laughter.
You regularly draw attention to yourself. Perhaps you should ask yourself why.
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