Saturday, February 7, 2009
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Lies About Gwyneth Paltrow
If we believe in one thing here at the Whitechapel Revue, it's the Aeon Horus, who signifies the end of this world and the beginning of the next. However, if we believed in two things, it would be the Aeon Horus, and journalistic integrity. It is with this notion in mind that we would like to counteract the spirit of rumor mongering and tabloid journalism by putting to rest several rumors surrounding Academy Award winning actress Gwyneth Paltrow.You may have heard that Gwyneth Paltrow has an eating disorder. This is not true. In fact, quite the contrary, she loves food and even did a tour across Spain with food celebrity Mario Batali as part of a documentary that chronicles the food culture of the Spanish people.
You may have heard that Gywneth's Paltrow's marriage to Coldplay frontman Chris Martin is turbulent and plagued with problems, with a divorce on the horizon. This is not true. Gwyneth and Chris are happily married and have no plans on breaking up now, or at any point in the foreseeable future.
You may have heard Gwyneth Paltrow is prone towards incredible diva-like behavior, which led to major problems on the set of Iron Man. This is not true. Gwyneth was not only highly professional, but was a genuine pleasure for the cast and crew of 2008 superhero blockbuster to work alongside. She also reported feeling not only honored to work with Hollywood great, Robert Downey Jr, but also thrilled to be part of such a memorable and well written project.
You may have heard that Gwyneth Paltrow carries a Glock 17 handgun in her purse at all times, so she can take regular breaks in her schedule to fire aimlessly into the heavens. This is not true. It is much more likely that she owns a Type 64 silenced pistol, and exercises extreme firearm safety while discharging round after round into the face of God.
You may have heard that Gwyneth Paltrow defecates into a mixing bowl each morning, and then stores the bowl in a subzero freezer until nightfall, at which point she removes it and places it in her room so that she can fall asleep to the fragrance of her own defrosting excrement. This is not true. Gwyneth defecates in a toilet like anyone else, and falls asleep the fragrance of her children's soiled and rancid diapers (which she keeps in a basket by her bed).
You may have heard that Gwyneth Paltrow gained her acting talent by drinking a mystical elixir created from Blythe Danner's urine. This is probably not true, as scientists proved that Blythe Danner's urine has no magical properties in a 1987 MIT study.
You may have heard that Gwyneth Paltrow can only become sexually aroused if she hears the sound of a prepubescent boy crying in pain and fear. This is not true. Records show that the cries of adolescent boys and German shepherds are also sufficient.
You may have heard that Gwyneth Paltrow operates as an envoy for the Goetic demon Glasya-Labolas. This is not true. Glasya-Labolas makes his will known through Sharon Stone, with whom Gwyneth Paltrow is reported to have a great enmity.
You may have heard that Gwyneth Paltrow keeps an elaborate doll of Angelina Jolie in her home, and that she regularly anoints the doll with scented oils and menstrual blood. This is not true. The doll is of Jennifer Aniston.
You may have heard many, many things about Gwyneth Paltrow, but many of them are false- from her supposed suicide attempts while dealing with post-partum depression to her inability to tolerate the Dutch, these wildly circulated rumors are often not based in reality at all. Even the tiniest bit of fact checking would prove this to be the case, and we at the Revue officially reprimand irresponsible publications that would distribute such obvious lies while posing as authentic journalists.
The above is merely parody. We have no idea if Gwyneth Paltrow actually is a gun crazy lunatic who likes the smell of shit and gets off on boys crying or not, so please do not consider this post to be any sort of official statement or speculation.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Become a fan of Whitechapel Revue on Facebook
The Whitechapel Revue is now on Facebook! Be sure to add us, so you can keep up with the blasphemous antics wherever you are!
Let me celebrate my loss
You know, even though I am a strong Christian woman, I am also quite appreciative of the various advances that feminism has made for women like me. I enjoy voting, love a little promiscuous sex when it comes my way, and I literally could not exist without being able to be a separate financial entity apart from my husband- after all, if he knew how much I blew each month on QVC jewelry, skin mags, and blow, he would have a coronary! And can I just tell you, unlike a certain French Canadian whore who still owes me Girl Scout cookie money (I'm not one to name names, but Celine Dion), I don't know if his heart would go on after his fifth heart attack! But, I digress.
Yes, I enjoy that women everywhere can be liberated and free to behave as they see fit, without the strappings of traditional gender roles. Now, don't take that to mean that I approve of hairy legs and not wearing makeup! After all, you may not have to follow gender roles, but that doesn't mean you have to become a man, after all! However, I do think, for the most part, it is a good thing. It's also nice to see strong, liberated women in the media.
That said, there are still some issues, and one in particular leaves me feeling quite agitated, I don't mind telling you. Why is it that if a woman should become pregnant unexpectedly, and then lose the baby, she is still expected to get depressed? I just dodged a damn bullet, I'm not about to start crying and whining- I'm happy, goddamn it! I mean, is it too much trouble to let me have that moment of joy and relief?
I know some of you out there must be reading this and reeling in shock. But come now, let's be honest. You didn't really want it, did you? I've been in your shoes many, many times, so let's not lie to each other. You know that you were hoping this would happen. I mean, even if you aren't a woman of faith, you knew that getting the big A would mean all sorts of complicated explanations and justifications, and who has time for that, honestly? I mean, you could always come up with a good reason, but no reason is good enough for some of them, so who wants to have to bear that discomfort at every garden party and social?
And don't tell me you didn't think about drinking a bit more and pretending you didn't know. God knows that's my first response. But even as great of a solution as that is, it still bears that awkward sting of responsibility, and frankly, if we're not up the task of slapping on a lady rubber and popping our little tic-tac each morning, then where do we get off thinking we can keep our dirty little secret under wraps for the next fifty years or so?
That's why I say we need a change. We need to let women be honest about who they are. Let me celebrate my miscarriage, America! If we can put a black man in the Oval Office, then why can't I have a fucking party? I promise it would be completely tasteful. Also, when you think about it, it would sort of be like a baby shower... and who doesn't love a baby shower?
I hope I've given you something to ponder as you download your internet porn and daily Bible verses. As for me, I have to drive down to the plaza and pick up a new Swarovski crystal punch bowl and a big bag of Corn Nuts before my guests arrive. Mmm yes... nuts.
Yes, I enjoy that women everywhere can be liberated and free to behave as they see fit, without the strappings of traditional gender roles. Now, don't take that to mean that I approve of hairy legs and not wearing makeup! After all, you may not have to follow gender roles, but that doesn't mean you have to become a man, after all! However, I do think, for the most part, it is a good thing. It's also nice to see strong, liberated women in the media.
That said, there are still some issues, and one in particular leaves me feeling quite agitated, I don't mind telling you. Why is it that if a woman should become pregnant unexpectedly, and then lose the baby, she is still expected to get depressed? I just dodged a damn bullet, I'm not about to start crying and whining- I'm happy, goddamn it! I mean, is it too much trouble to let me have that moment of joy and relief?
I know some of you out there must be reading this and reeling in shock. But come now, let's be honest. You didn't really want it, did you? I've been in your shoes many, many times, so let's not lie to each other. You know that you were hoping this would happen. I mean, even if you aren't a woman of faith, you knew that getting the big A would mean all sorts of complicated explanations and justifications, and who has time for that, honestly? I mean, you could always come up with a good reason, but no reason is good enough for some of them, so who wants to have to bear that discomfort at every garden party and social?
And don't tell me you didn't think about drinking a bit more and pretending you didn't know. God knows that's my first response. But even as great of a solution as that is, it still bears that awkward sting of responsibility, and frankly, if we're not up the task of slapping on a lady rubber and popping our little tic-tac each morning, then where do we get off thinking we can keep our dirty little secret under wraps for the next fifty years or so?
That's why I say we need a change. We need to let women be honest about who they are. Let me celebrate my miscarriage, America! If we can put a black man in the Oval Office, then why can't I have a fucking party? I promise it would be completely tasteful. Also, when you think about it, it would sort of be like a baby shower... and who doesn't love a baby shower?
I hope I've given you something to ponder as you download your internet porn and daily Bible verses. As for me, I have to drive down to the plaza and pick up a new Swarovski crystal punch bowl and a big bag of Corn Nuts before my guests arrive. Mmm yes... nuts.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Temporal distortion on Wisteria Lane triggers Day of Lavos
There are two things in our world that tend to stay fairly stable- suburban life, and the time-space continuum. You can generally expect a row of well-manicured lawns to stay as such, just as you can expect Thursday to be Thursday and here not to be there. After all, the Department of Chronology and White Women was built upon a thousand year legacy of accountability, so why worry?
It was this exact thought that must have been going through the heads of both the Multidimensional Time and Space Observational Task Force and the Wisteria Lane Homeowner's Association early this fall, when the first signs of interdimensional disruption began to become apparent. These disruptions, beginning late September 2008, seemed fairly small at first, but it wasn't long before the entire street of Wisteria Lane had been shifted through time into roughly 2013.
This jump through time, although unexpected, didn't appear to be terribly troubling. "You have to understand, we're not even exactly sure where Wisteria Lane is," replied Doug Javier, a representative for MTSOTF. "It isn't altogether unusual for a location with a questionable spatial coordinates to have occasional temporal slips... we call it 'scooting', actually."
"Well, yeah, it was a bit unnerving," replied Wisteria Lane resident, Gabriel Solis-Lang-Solis-Whoeverisnext. "I was pretty fucking pissed to have gotten a whole half decade older overnight. Plus, I have these two kids now, and that's sort of a buzzkill. But, the extra weight made my breasts bigger, so I figured, eh... this is life, right?"
Unfortunately, the sudden acceleration in time had more consequences than unwanted wrinkles, weight, or offspring. As the citizens of the timeshifted street began to move about their new lives in the future, a creeping evil emerged from beneath the world's surface, and even now threatens to rise and bring about the end of human civilization as we know it.
This being, an interstellar parasite going by the name Lavos (or Crispy to his buds) is estimated to have landed on our planet roughly 65 billion years ago, at which point he burrowed into the planet's mantle, orchestrated most of the world's evolution, and took time off to star in various Ayla/Lavos erotic tentacle fics and flash movies. Although it long been believed that Lavos' emergence would happen in the year 1999 AD, the event never occurred. While no reason for this absence was ever determined, many believe that Lavos may have been defeated by unknown heroes at another time in our history. Others believe he may have actually emerged, but his debut was overshadowed by the panic rising over the Y2K bug. Whatever the reason, Lavos currently remains in the Earth's mantle, ever sleeping and dreaming of the day he can annihilate all life, flood the earth with his ravenous spawn, and send his consciousness back into the stars.
Unfortunately, however, recent MTSOTF readings show that Lavos' level of activities have increased dramatically since the Wisteria Lane time jump, and that the alien overlord appears to be drifting towards surface a little more each day.
"I must say, if this Lavos or whatever his name is insists on crawling out of the earth and destroying our ecosystem, the least he could do is call and make sure we can schedule his arrival in advance! Honestly, it shows very poor manners on his part, and at his age there is no excuse," stated Wisteria Lane resident Bree Hodge. "Now, tell me, this Lavos fellow... is he a fan of lemon meringue pie? I would love to have a little get together to welcome him to the surface. I'll take care of the dessert, and if you don't mind, you can provide a nice garden salad. There's a dear."
"We don't really know when Lavos will emerge, or if he even will, but our scanners do tell us he's particularly partial towards meringue," responded Javier. "Maybe there is hope for a dramatic but comical solution to this issue yet!"
Perhaps there is. But, should Lavos not be impressed with the sprawl of suburbia upon his appearance, we all may have much reason to be concerned. The MTSOTF states that in the case of a mass dimensional emergency, citizens of this dimension should take precaution and prepare a disaster kit in their basement, equipped with nonperishable foods and potable water. Most importantly, they urge individuals not to try and take on Lavos directly, nor do they recommend allowing Lavos to kill them and then replacing themselves with a copy of themselves from a timestream in which Lavos did not kill them.
"We... find that sort of tactic is often problematic," stated Javier. "However, that said, we do feel that with proper preparation, the people of this dimension should be able to adapt and conquer in the case of Lavos' awakening. A little forethought can go a long way towards averting disaster, after all."
In the meantime, the MTSOTF intends to stay vigilant. But what of the timeshifted residents of Wisteria Lane?
"SCHALA LIVES!" screamed local resident, Edie Britt, before tearing out her hair and weeping hysterically. "She lives and dooms us all... she liiiiiiiiiiiiiives!"
It was this exact thought that must have been going through the heads of both the Multidimensional Time and Space Observational Task Force and the Wisteria Lane Homeowner's Association early this fall, when the first signs of interdimensional disruption began to become apparent. These disruptions, beginning late September 2008, seemed fairly small at first, but it wasn't long before the entire street of Wisteria Lane had been shifted through time into roughly 2013.This jump through time, although unexpected, didn't appear to be terribly troubling. "You have to understand, we're not even exactly sure where Wisteria Lane is," replied Doug Javier, a representative for MTSOTF. "It isn't altogether unusual for a location with a questionable spatial coordinates to have occasional temporal slips... we call it 'scooting', actually."
"Well, yeah, it was a bit unnerving," replied Wisteria Lane resident, Gabriel Solis-Lang-Solis-Whoeverisnext. "I was pretty fucking pissed to have gotten a whole half decade older overnight. Plus, I have these two kids now, and that's sort of a buzzkill. But, the extra weight made my breasts bigger, so I figured, eh... this is life, right?"
Unfortunately, the sudden acceleration in time had more consequences than unwanted wrinkles, weight, or offspring. As the citizens of the timeshifted street began to move about their new lives in the future, a creeping evil emerged from beneath the world's surface, and even now threatens to rise and bring about the end of human civilization as we know it.
This being, an interstellar parasite going by the name Lavos (or Crispy to his buds) is estimated to have landed on our planet roughly 65 billion years ago, at which point he burrowed into the planet's mantle, orchestrated most of the world's evolution, and took time off to star in various Ayla/Lavos erotic tentacle fics and flash movies. Although it long been believed that Lavos' emergence would happen in the year 1999 AD, the event never occurred. While no reason for this absence was ever determined, many believe that Lavos may have been defeated by unknown heroes at another time in our history. Others believe he may have actually emerged, but his debut was overshadowed by the panic rising over the Y2K bug. Whatever the reason, Lavos currently remains in the Earth's mantle, ever sleeping and dreaming of the day he can annihilate all life, flood the earth with his ravenous spawn, and send his consciousness back into the stars.Unfortunately, however, recent MTSOTF readings show that Lavos' level of activities have increased dramatically since the Wisteria Lane time jump, and that the alien overlord appears to be drifting towards surface a little more each day.
"I must say, if this Lavos or whatever his name is insists on crawling out of the earth and destroying our ecosystem, the least he could do is call and make sure we can schedule his arrival in advance! Honestly, it shows very poor manners on his part, and at his age there is no excuse," stated Wisteria Lane resident Bree Hodge. "Now, tell me, this Lavos fellow... is he a fan of lemon meringue pie? I would love to have a little get together to welcome him to the surface. I'll take care of the dessert, and if you don't mind, you can provide a nice garden salad. There's a dear."
"We don't really know when Lavos will emerge, or if he even will, but our scanners do tell us he's particularly partial towards meringue," responded Javier. "Maybe there is hope for a dramatic but comical solution to this issue yet!"
Perhaps there is. But, should Lavos not be impressed with the sprawl of suburbia upon his appearance, we all may have much reason to be concerned. The MTSOTF states that in the case of a mass dimensional emergency, citizens of this dimension should take precaution and prepare a disaster kit in their basement, equipped with nonperishable foods and potable water. Most importantly, they urge individuals not to try and take on Lavos directly, nor do they recommend allowing Lavos to kill them and then replacing themselves with a copy of themselves from a timestream in which Lavos did not kill them.
"We... find that sort of tactic is often problematic," stated Javier. "However, that said, we do feel that with proper preparation, the people of this dimension should be able to adapt and conquer in the case of Lavos' awakening. A little forethought can go a long way towards averting disaster, after all."
In the meantime, the MTSOTF intends to stay vigilant. But what of the timeshifted residents of Wisteria Lane?
"SCHALA LIVES!" screamed local resident, Edie Britt, before tearing out her hair and weeping hysterically. "She lives and dooms us all... she liiiiiiiiiiiiiives!"
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Abe Lincoln's 200th Birthday Bash Marred by Gay Rumors
As a dignitary and all around important person, I am often invited to state functions throughout the world. I have to say while I have witnessed some very wild and embarrassing things at these affairs, I have never witnessed such a shameful display as the one I witnessed at the Bicentennial Celebration of Abraham Lincoln's Birthday, held in Washington D.C. on January 31, 2009.
The evening started typically to most events I have attended in this prudish nation- meaningless mingling amongst individuals of lower standing than myself, sipping substandard cocktails, and listening to speeches extolling the virtues of whatever individual we are celebrating at the time. During this tired old routine, and right before dinner, I happened to notice former first lady Eleanor Roosevelt enter the ball room. Shocking, I know, but don't believe those fools that tell you she died in '64. She was there, in the entryway, as alive as anyone (or at least more alive than that vampire, Cindy McCain).
It was apparent to me that she had already been drinking before coming to the party, but that didn't stop her from grabbing up the closest glass of champagne (though, to be honest, it was cheap California sparkling white wine) and chugging it like a pirate. At this point, I knew real excitement had finally reached this doldrums of a birthday party, so I made my way slowly across the ballroom so I could witness the fun in greater detail.
I followed Eleanor around the ballroom until it was time to be seated for dinner and an address from President Obama. I was lucky enough to land a seat at the same table as the first lady, watching greedily as she spiraled out of control, one glass of cheap wine right after the other.
While the speech itself was lacking in any substantial content about Lincoln and his contribution to this nation, it was nonetheless entertaining as Eleanor heckled the President loudly and frequently throughout the entire speech. At one point, she was almost removed by security, but her handlers intervened just in time and calmed her down enough to allow the President to finish his speech on schedule.
After dinner, there was to be a period of socializing and then dancing to finish off the night, but the party planners had not planned on Eleanor attending- or even being alive. Once Mr. Obama descended from the podium, Mrs. Roosevelt saw her chance and pounced upon the microphone- and rather quickly for someone as sloshed as she was, not to mention someone of her advanced age. She sprang up onto the table where we sat and began screaming at the top of her lungs.
"I have a secret! I have a secret! Mr. Abe Lincoln was… A… GAY!" At first everyone thought she was just speaking out of drunkenness and senility, but she continued to bellow. "The diary of Joshua Speed! The diary of JOSHUA.... SPEED!" she repeated emphatically, producing a careworn leather-bound journal from her bosom. "This state secret was a gift from my Frankie to keep me occupied whilst he was out selling people on his 'deal'," she explained. "It was filled with the most awful and lurid descriptions of Abe's dick I have ever read." She paused, and pointed a bony finger menacingly at a bust of Lincoln. "Your.... DICK!" she shrieked. "That's not all! These pages are full of gay smut the likes of which no one has ever even imagined before! Oh, Abe Lincoln... he was gay alright! Christ, if he hadn't been giving the theater attendant a blow job, he would have seen John's bullet before it shattered the back of his skull!"
Upon this revelation, everyone stared in disbelief and utter amazement at the inebriated first lady, as she whirled around, fell off the table, and collapsed in to the lap of Lady Bird Johnson, promptly vomiting onto the unsuspecting woman's three thousand dollar shoes before expiring. I couldn't help but think that this is why you don't wear exclusive designs to nonexclusive parties! Everyone was floored by the information- no, to be quite accurate, they were panicked! So panicked, in fact, that they began stampeding towards the doors without even a thought of continuing the evening's festivities.
Needless to say, I was intrigued by the entire event, so I sent my agents to investigate Mrs. Roosevelt's apartments before anyone was able to return and tamper with any evidence. Sadly, I came up empty handed. as my agents found upon their arrival that Eleanor's apartment had been burgled prior to their entrance. The only items appearing to have been stolen were some of her books, as evidenced by gaps in her bookshelves and the obvious haste through which they had been rummaged. I had my agents look for further clues regarding who may have stolen the book, but the trail went cold.
Whether the First Lady's accusations are true, and whether she did actually own a secret diary belonging to one Joshua Speed, I cannot say. But regardless, it certainly did make for an amazing night, one far more memorable than the bulk of those I have experienced in my times in our nation's capitol.
I don't care WHAT blogging is, it sounds dirty!
Well, it's been a few days since I made a post. I have to apologize to you and my fellow contributors for my absence. You see, I've been at the spa for the past few days. But don't worry! I kept a diary while I was there, and I thought I would share it with you now! So listen closely, dears, and remember that little girl lies make big women happy, always check for lumps and dumps, and fifteen minutes scrubbing oysters isn't hygiene, it's a hobby.
1/27/09
Why hello, everyone!
Everyone who knows me knows I love nothing better than a Frenchman in heavy makeup, so you can imagine just how devastated I was to learn that Marcel Marceau had passed recently- it took me the better part of a year to find out about it, but you have to remember, that I have no short term memory. Or long term memory. Or natural hair. Well back on subject, though, I first heard the news while I was out lunching with my dear friend Delta Burke- although to call it a lunch would be a stretching the truth like a pair of her old leggings. Now that she's gotten the stapling, all she does is peck at a handful of lightly seasoned bird seed and make some strange cooing noises while I attempt to make conversation. If I didn't know better, I could swear she wasn't Delta at all, but rather a flock of pigeons!
Mmmm, pigeons. I don't mind telling you, I love eating ham, and I don't care what my rabbi says. I like a meat that tastes like salt.
Well, my first day of beauty is going quite well. The spa administrator told me they just started offering a new service called ostial loosening. Well, I wasn't aware my bones had gotten so tight, so you can imagine how embarrassed I was! I signed up for that treatment first of all, let me just tell you. It was quite exquisite. First they wrap you up in towels and then they toss you up against a wall while a Malaysian woman screams some nonsense while she beats a drum. I'm not sure WHAT the hell it did for me, but it certainly FELT trendy, so I was happy to have it. Afterward, I treated myself to a nice massage. I don't mind telling you, I was feeling frisky, and I may have made a pass at my masseur, which caused him to get quite rough with me and made him threaten to beat me to a pulp. I wasn't too worried, however, because I enjoy being hit.
Well, later tonight I'm scheduled for a new treatment that is supposed to shave years off my appearance. I am not sure what it entails just yet, but if it doesn't involve stem cells or harming an endangered animal, I'm going to file a complaint!
1/28/09
Mmmm, well, things are going swimmingly at the Boca de Cerdo Day Spa and Dry Cleaners. I'm meeting all sorts of fabulous people here. Just yesterday, I got a colonic done with none other than Kathy Bates! She was there in cognito, of course, which is something I intend to do then next time I decide to come here- and I WILL be returning, provided the management doesn't sue me for damages once they see the horrible stains I left in the suite. I tried to warn them; fruit salad leads to disaster! Its like I keep telling my dietitian, if it isn't Pfizer, Smirnoff, or M&M Mars, it doesn't belong in my body.
Oh, I thought you should all know, when I come home, the first thing I will be doing is calling up doctor and scheduling some work. I think I'm going to get cat eyes, because its come to my attention that small children are no longer instinctively afraid of me.
Being here at the spa has given me a lot of time to think. I think I need more friends who can't get over themselves, because I've never been a role model. Sometimes, my right foot swells up like a summer squash, and when you press it, you can see your thumbprint for nearly 20 minutes! Makes me want to slather some jam in there and serve it like a cookie, it really does. Well, I don't have much more time to write, I'm afraid, because I need to run down to the local liquor store and break a hundred dollar bill. I saw a vending machine that sells prepackaged snack cakes, and you know how I love to gnaw a sponge!
1/29/09
I think I just have to let you all know, I've temporarily gone blind. Just a word of advice, just because you drop an olive in a bottle of tub and tile cleaner doesn't make it a cocktail, now does it? You may be wondering how this all came to happen, especially since I'm away on spa.
Well, as it turns out, I had neglected to pay last month's credit card bill because I needed the money to pay off my Avon lady- just as a secondary word of advice, don't assume that because a woman teaches the Sunday School at the First Methodist that she won't go through with a threat to break your kneecaps, mmmm, no. So, as you can see, I had some momentary money problems, and it ends up my card was denied when it came time to settle my bill at the old Boca de Cerdo... so instead of being carted off to some filthy prison, I agreed to pull a couple of shifts on housekeeping. I can just tell you, I haven't worked so hard since I agreed to help Elizabeth Hasselbeck learn to live with lesbians! My breasts are practically calloused over from all this blue collar labor!
But it hasn't been without its perks, as my stint down in laundry has left me with a few new additions to my celebrity underwear collection- so everyone say hello to Lou Diamond Phillips and Sandra Oh! Mmmm, yes, stealing. Well, my supervisor, Guadalupe, is insisting I stop dilly-dallying and get back to work, or she'll put her cigarette out on me. Between my cold sores and the stings I received from that pack of scorpions I ran across after I tried to dodge my bill by running through the desert, I simply can't risk another blemish, so I'm off for now! I'll be seeing you all soon, and let me just tell you, when you do see me, I'll be STUNNING.
1/27/09
Why hello, everyone!
Everyone who knows me knows I love nothing better than a Frenchman in heavy makeup, so you can imagine just how devastated I was to learn that Marcel Marceau had passed recently- it took me the better part of a year to find out about it, but you have to remember, that I have no short term memory. Or long term memory. Or natural hair. Well back on subject, though, I first heard the news while I was out lunching with my dear friend Delta Burke- although to call it a lunch would be a stretching the truth like a pair of her old leggings. Now that she's gotten the stapling, all she does is peck at a handful of lightly seasoned bird seed and make some strange cooing noises while I attempt to make conversation. If I didn't know better, I could swear she wasn't Delta at all, but rather a flock of pigeons!
Mmmm, pigeons. I don't mind telling you, I love eating ham, and I don't care what my rabbi says. I like a meat that tastes like salt.
Well, my first day of beauty is going quite well. The spa administrator told me they just started offering a new service called ostial loosening. Well, I wasn't aware my bones had gotten so tight, so you can imagine how embarrassed I was! I signed up for that treatment first of all, let me just tell you. It was quite exquisite. First they wrap you up in towels and then they toss you up against a wall while a Malaysian woman screams some nonsense while she beats a drum. I'm not sure WHAT the hell it did for me, but it certainly FELT trendy, so I was happy to have it. Afterward, I treated myself to a nice massage. I don't mind telling you, I was feeling frisky, and I may have made a pass at my masseur, which caused him to get quite rough with me and made him threaten to beat me to a pulp. I wasn't too worried, however, because I enjoy being hit.
Well, later tonight I'm scheduled for a new treatment that is supposed to shave years off my appearance. I am not sure what it entails just yet, but if it doesn't involve stem cells or harming an endangered animal, I'm going to file a complaint!
1/28/09
Mmmm, well, things are going swimmingly at the Boca de Cerdo Day Spa and Dry Cleaners. I'm meeting all sorts of fabulous people here. Just yesterday, I got a colonic done with none other than Kathy Bates! She was there in cognito, of course, which is something I intend to do then next time I decide to come here- and I WILL be returning, provided the management doesn't sue me for damages once they see the horrible stains I left in the suite. I tried to warn them; fruit salad leads to disaster! Its like I keep telling my dietitian, if it isn't Pfizer, Smirnoff, or M&M Mars, it doesn't belong in my body.
Oh, I thought you should all know, when I come home, the first thing I will be doing is calling up doctor and scheduling some work. I think I'm going to get cat eyes, because its come to my attention that small children are no longer instinctively afraid of me.
Being here at the spa has given me a lot of time to think. I think I need more friends who can't get over themselves, because I've never been a role model. Sometimes, my right foot swells up like a summer squash, and when you press it, you can see your thumbprint for nearly 20 minutes! Makes me want to slather some jam in there and serve it like a cookie, it really does. Well, I don't have much more time to write, I'm afraid, because I need to run down to the local liquor store and break a hundred dollar bill. I saw a vending machine that sells prepackaged snack cakes, and you know how I love to gnaw a sponge!
1/29/09
I think I just have to let you all know, I've temporarily gone blind. Just a word of advice, just because you drop an olive in a bottle of tub and tile cleaner doesn't make it a cocktail, now does it? You may be wondering how this all came to happen, especially since I'm away on spa.
Well, as it turns out, I had neglected to pay last month's credit card bill because I needed the money to pay off my Avon lady- just as a secondary word of advice, don't assume that because a woman teaches the Sunday School at the First Methodist that she won't go through with a threat to break your kneecaps, mmmm, no. So, as you can see, I had some momentary money problems, and it ends up my card was denied when it came time to settle my bill at the old Boca de Cerdo... so instead of being carted off to some filthy prison, I agreed to pull a couple of shifts on housekeeping. I can just tell you, I haven't worked so hard since I agreed to help Elizabeth Hasselbeck learn to live with lesbians! My breasts are practically calloused over from all this blue collar labor!
But it hasn't been without its perks, as my stint down in laundry has left me with a few new additions to my celebrity underwear collection- so everyone say hello to Lou Diamond Phillips and Sandra Oh! Mmmm, yes, stealing. Well, my supervisor, Guadalupe, is insisting I stop dilly-dallying and get back to work, or she'll put her cigarette out on me. Between my cold sores and the stings I received from that pack of scorpions I ran across after I tried to dodge my bill by running through the desert, I simply can't risk another blemish, so I'm off for now! I'll be seeing you all soon, and let me just tell you, when you do see me, I'll be STUNNING.
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