9 like a New Year’s Eve Wand-Mask

Happy happy happy new years, Bitches!

Thanks to Miss Van for this perfect example of a mask like the number 9.

Cash Cab Hearts Kurt Vonnegut

I was watching Cash Cab yesterday and was touched when, after a question about the author Kurt Vonnegut, Ben Bailey (host & cabbie) turned to the camera with a thumbs up.

We miss you, Kurt.

Cause wow we really do… all of us… maybe you don’t know you’re missing Kurt Vonnegut but believe me, you are! 

Which is exactly why I love Cash Cab — the game show that takes place in Ben Bailey’s NYC cab, only one of the countless cabs in the city. (OK 13,000. Someone counted.) So if, like me, you are DYING to play Cash Cab you must first be lucky enough to stumble into it. O! I want it to be me — the Alphabetfiend — bumbling & mumbling some Alphabet City address. I once watched as two older gentlemen won over $4000 dollars AND got dropped of at my favorite intersection in all the world. Across the way from the St. Marks Hotel (where I often stay like the village sleaze I am) and from the little Asian bakery where I get powdery cream puffs with a touch of green tea whipped into the fresh cream. Over there by where the tasty freeze truck parks. Right beside the Astor Place subway station where I love to jump on & off the 6. Yep, they were going to Starbucks but were it me I’d head straight to that tasty freeze and get me a butterscotch dip cone. I’d lick it while looking through the windows of that great bookstore and plotting my $4000 shopping spree. I’d have to hit H&M. Oh, no fair! Why can’t I be two old men in NYC, in Bailey’s cab, about to walk away with the most money ever won on Cash Cab? Why! Why I ask you?!  I was jealous of their winnings and I was jealous of their GPS location.

The Robot Boy and I would kick butt on Cash Cab. We know almost all the answers cause the questions are always about the random sort of literary smarty pants kind of shit we care about it. Crazy questions about space & time, ancient myth, freaky cult authors, haunted ships, famous amusement parks, or how to make a bomb. In recent episodes, two different episodes,  it all came down to questions whose answers I know in my bones.

1. What Spanish city is not to be confused with an industrial city in Ohio? The contestents said “Seville. ” I knew they were done for as I screamed “TOLEDO!!!!!”
2. The legendery amusement park, Cedar Point, is in what state? The guy risked $900 and lost it all when he answered “Washington” but I was serene as I swooned “OHIO.”

Both of those games ended in the riders being booted from the cab and left to walk on to their destination (or hail another less-fun cab that will ask you to pay them not the other way around.) But this Midwestern honey grew up in TOLEDO OHIO so I would not have been left like a loser on the curb. I spent every summer at Cedar Point, I spent every winter dreaming of that other Toledo.

Yep, it’s meant to be… me & Cash Cab sitting in a tree… k-i-s-s-i-n-g.  Gotta love the game show that mourns the loss of Vonnegut.

I’d love to hail that hunk. Pick me pick me! Up! Cash Cab comes on the Discovery Channel between 5/4c -7/6c pm on weekdays. That’s four episodes so take a 25 minute break and see if you can beat me on Cash Cab. By the way, I’m watching it as we speak and Bailey has just said

“Cash Cab has a vanity plate. 7N78. Can you figure out what it means?”

I’m drawing a blank! What do you think?

Aniston Gives Letterman her GQ Nudie-Spread Necktie

“Well you know what they say about guys with short ties.” — David Letterman

Jennifer Aniston was on David Letterman last night. They discussed her recent birthday suit photo shoot for GQ magazine, at which point Jen presented Dave with a tie box — inside was the tie that barely covered Jen on GQ’s sexy cover.

The tie is damn sexy as ties go — whether it was on a naked Aniston or not. Kinda patriotic meets Brit punk. Unfortunately, the tie was too short for Letterman… either that or he had it tied that way for extra laughs. I felt bad for Jen cause she was so giddy over the gift and then he was rather ungracious. And really guys, let’s be honest, it’s plenty long (and plenty silky) enough to wrap it around your nuts & wiener for a little tug and moan.

It was hot how Dave started stripping and put the tie on right then and there. Too bad he had to be dickish when it didn’t fit. Though the Robot Boy does not think he was dickish so I maybe I’m just over-sensitive.

Vanity Fair Cover: Tina Fey As a Patriotic Pin-up

“The collective consciousness has said, ‘Tina, dahling, where have you been? Where on earth have you been?”’ — Alec Baldwin

The article featured in The January Issue of Vanity Fair  was a great meeting of the minds. The geek’s vixen (Maureen Dowd) interviewed the smart alec’s sex-pot (Tina Fey.)

Maureen Dowd interviewing Tina Fey? Hell yea! Sexy bitch to sexy bitch. It was also long and juicy, touching on Fey’s career, marriage, childhood and motherhood. It discussed what many think of as Fey’s fairy tale ugly ducking to swan transformation (although not everyone buys into the “Yay! Fey lost 30 lbs!” thang.  Myself, for example, and Fey’s hubby think she was just damn fine yum before.) The article also revealed that Fey was the childhood victim of violence via a disfiguring attack by a stranger. The latter was one of  several new things I learned about Fey.

On the duh duh duh “She’s sure perty”  front, the magazine satisfies. Although I was hoping for more pin-up style photos inside. Fey looks lovely in her little black dress but I dig the over-the-top goofiness of the cover and always love a fun costumey celeb spread.

Tina Fey looks so sexy-licious on the cover of January’s Vanity Fair.

So seriously sassy that it makes me want to stand up and salute. 

I ask not what can Tina Fey can do for me but what I can do for Tina Fey.

Determined to get in good with Tina – a charming ” prude/lewd split personality” — Maureen Down wooed the famous Fey with sweets.

Her true vice is cupcakes. I’ve brought her a box, one frosted with the face of Sarah Palin. She chooses that one.

Fey wasn’t shy about choosing the biggest one or about chowing down on Sarah Palin. Fey isn’t trying to be a 90210 beauty but she does confess to striving for a more 212 NYC area-code kinda fetching.

She wanted to be “PBS pretty”—pretty for a smart writer.

She shed 30 — acceptable in Chicago pounds — and I dunno, waxed some stuff. Put on some glasses or changed her glasses. Supposedly went from a Nottie to a Hottie. What-ev. I was kinda blah on that aspect of the article. I don’t think Fey got fantastic through sheer force of Natzi-esque will. I call bullshit! Surely she was something special all along. Steve Higgins, an S.N.L. producer, attests to the come-hither having come with her all the way from Chi-town.

When she got here she was kind of goofy-looking, but everyone had a crush on her because she was so funny and bitingly mean.

The make-over Fey gave herself was subtle…. fortunately for the gnads of nerds everywhere. Tina Fey went from Geek to Geek-Chic. That whole pencil skirt & pencil stuck in a messy up-do look. Michael Specter, a New Yorker writer,  is glad she kept her look whip-smart calling Fey

“the sex symbol for every man who reads without moving his lips.”

Fey’s husband and long-time love, Jeff Richmond, wistfully describes Fey in “her pre-glamour-puss days, back in Chicago.”

She was quite round in a lovely, turn-of-the-century kind of round—that beautiful, Rubenesque kind of beauty. She used to wear crazy boots. She would wear knee-length frumpy dresses with thrift-store sweaters. It still looked kind of cool on her.

Richmond thought he and Fey made a good couple and not just because they both gobbled sandwiches with great abandon or laughed at Gary Shandling but because they’re off-beat beauty was complementary. At 5 feet three and one-half inches, Richmond was retro.

I used to get all my suits in thrift stores, because I realized I was the size of little old men who were dying

Dowd writes of how the handsome couple “fell in love quickly, soon after a Sunday afternoon spent together at Chicago’s Museum of Science and Industry.”

Fey dead-panned, “We walked into a model of the human heart”

 Fey and Richmond seem to enjoy a “borderline-boring” marriage that thrives on communication, honesty and clear-cut rules.

“I know how she feels about some things, like, we never had to deal with any of this, but: adultery. Anything like that, messing around, is just such a complete ‘No’ to her. And she has her principles and she sticks to her principles more than anybody I’ve ever met in my life. Like that whole idea of, if you are in a relationship, there are deal breakers. There’s not a lot of gray area. ”

They’ve never had to deal with adultery, in part I’m sure, because loyalty is they EXPECT from each other and there’s an expectation of serious consequences if they don’t do right. Fey expects Richmond to be a good guy because that’s what she WANTS in a man.

 “I don’t have that kind of ‘I love the bad guys’ thing. No, no thank you. I like nice people.”

Maureen Dowd was privy to a conversation — “woven with intimacy, the easy banter of a couple who knew each other long before fame hit” – between Fey and her “puckish” hubby.

“When we were first dating,” Richmond says, harking back to Chicago in 1994, “some of the guys at Second City said, ‘Hey, wouldn’t it be a hoot if we go over—”’

“‘—over to the Doll House,”’ Fey finishes. “‘We’ll go to this strip club ironically.’ I was like, ‘The fuck you will.”’

That had me chuckling cause: 

A) what a lucky lucky lad is Richmond to have Fey saying “The fuck you will” to him. Yum.

B) My abode, my home, has been known as “The Doll House” for years since back in the day when my roomies and I had a prank pretend punk band called “The Dollies” but now even brand new friends take to it quickly because, well, frankly I look like a doll. Not a stripper but an actual doll… think kewpie, not Barbie. After years of being called “Dollface” from every random someone – the butcher, the baker & the candlestick maker — I’ve finally embraced it (the right person started calling me DF I guess.) Sooooo my house has the same name as the strip club Fey’s man was forbidden (verboten) to enter? Well that’s just the best.

Fey likes to laugh at strippers not ogle them. She doesn’t wanna put dollars into their g-strings and she wants you to not want to either. She wants strippers to stop shaking their money makers and instead study art history in college. She wants them to put  down their sky-high lucite heels and pick up books, instruments (Fey played the flute) or easels. Why? Cause we’re better than that, she claims.

“I love to play strippers and to imitate them. I love using that idea for comedy, but the idea of actually going there? I feel like we all need to be better than that. That industry needs to die, by all of us being a little bit better than that.”

If Fey thinks we’re better than that then maybe we should try to be better. Maybe we should stand up and do right. There’s a lot of talk about Fey’s Germanic love of law & order (S.N.L. alum Colin Quinn calls Fey “Herman the German.”) Dowd can see why –” She’s a sprite with a Rommel battle plan.” Fey is a fan of Leni Riefanstahl’s auto-bio which at 669 pages is a thorough look into the Hitler-touched Natzi Propaganada filmmaker whose movies such as Triumph of the Will have been the river from which political propaganda feeds.

“If she hadn’t been so brilliant at what she did, she wouldn’t have been so evil, she was like, in the book, ‘He was the leader of the country. Who was I not to go?’ And it’s like, Note to self: Think through the invite from the leader of your country.”

As Mary Tyler Moore and Betty White were giving out the Emmy for outstanding comedy series, Fey found herself coveting the award or rather the actual physical statuette that would be passed from their hands to hers.

“I had this visceral thing of, like, I want them to gimme that! I want to get that from those ladies!”

Symbolism was not lost on the Emmy deities.

Within moments 30 Rockwas called and she went up onstage, glowing in a strapless eggplant mermaid David Meister gown, to take the Emmy from the two women who had provided the template for her own show. It was a dazzling Cinderella moment (except for Fey’s purse getting stolen while she was onstage). She got her own slipper, writing and willing herself into the role, and the shoe wasn’t glass. It was a silver Manolo Blahnik.

What kind of total a-hole would steal Tina Fey’s purse while she was accepting her well-deserved symbol-soaked Emmy?

 Although that a-hole aint nothin’ compared to the sicko psycho who slashed a child’s face.

Liz Lemon favors her right side. That’s because a faint scar runs across Tina Fey’s left cheek, the result of a violent cutting attack by a stranger when Fey was five. Her husband says, “It was in, like, the front yard of her house, and somebody who just came up, and she just thought somebody marked her with a pen.” You can hardly see the scar in person. But I agree with Richmond that it makes Fey more lovely, like a hint of Marlene Dietrich noir glamour in a Preston Sturges heroine.

“That scar was fascinating to me,” Richmond recalls. “This is somebody who, no matter what it was, has gone through something. And I think it really informs the way she thinks about her life. When you have that kind of thing happen to you, that makes you scared of certain things, that makes you frightened of different things, your comedy comes out in a different kind of way, and it also makes you feel for people.”

The violent attack Fey suffered at the hands of a sadistic stranger and the scars that still remain were by far the most riveting part of the article. It’s illuminating. On so many levels. I’m a much bigger fan of Fey’s than I was before and readers of this blog know how I loves me some Fey.

Marci Klein—the cool, tall, blonde executive producer of 30 Rock and producer of S.N.L., and the daughter of Calvin Klein—who was kidnapped for 10 hours when she was 11, remembers, “Tina said to me, ‘Well, you know, Marci, we had the Bad Thing happen to us. We know what it’s like.”’

I too am someone who had what Fey calls THE BAD THING happen. My heart broke for that child and her soft cheek and then my heart soared to see yet again how those traumas set people on a special path. Such an intense experience can have an almost shamanic quality, shaking a person up in such a way that they are transformed. There’s an alchemy that comes from healing, from making something like that into something new and better for yourself…experiencing it and then surviving it is a psychological vision quest that us “victims” are lucky to go on. Does it suck that it happened to her? YES. Is that part of Fey’s magic? No doubt.

That said, I can see why Fey “rarely mentions the episode” and continues to struggle with it, sometimes even when she’s not expecting it to resurface.

 ”It’s impossible to talk about it without somehow seemingly exploiting it and glorifying it,” says Fey

She used therapy to cope with her extremely fearful reaction to the anthrax attack at 30 Rock shortly after 9/11—the first time her co-workers had seen her vulnerable. The therapist talked to her about 9/11 and the anthrax delivered to Tom Brokaw’s office, linking them to the crime against her when she was little. “It’s the attack out of nowhere,” Fey says. “Something comes out of nowhere, it’s horrifying.”

When asked how that little kid trauma has affected her now that she’s mama to her own kiddie, Fey seemed prepared for some potentially rough times.

“Supposedly, I will go crazy. My therapist says, ‘When Alice is the age that you were, you may go crazy.”’

But then again Fey may just be okay, having been willing to explore it through therapy as well as through art. She’s processed it — at least creatively.

Liz Lemon’s blustery Republican boss, Jack Donaghy, played with comic genius by Alec Baldwin, tells Lemon, “I don’t know what happened in your life that caused you to develop a sense of humor as a coping mechanism. Maybe it was some sort of brace or corrective boot you wore during childhood, but in any case I’m glad you’re on my team.”

Plus there’s the fact that Fey doesn’t have much patience for drama or crazy. Dowd asks her if she ever counsels Lindsay Lohan, Tracy Morgan or Alec Baldwin.

“I have no enabler bone in my body—not one. I’m sort of like, ‘Oh, are you going crazy? I’ll be back in an hour.’”

Janeane Garofalo, in a recent interview in Geek Monthly, talked about being a now lefty who came from a righty-whitey background. Tina Fey came from a similar situation.

“I grew up in a family of Republicans. And when I was 18 and registering to vote, my mom’s only instruction was “You just go in and pull the big Republican lever.” That’s my welcome to adulthood. She’s like, “No, don’t even read it. Just pull the Republican lever.”

Which makes me wonder what are those Repub’s feeding their daughters to make them so damn funny? A buncha bullshit, I s’pose. Both comediennes have come a long way from those right-wing roots and are nows forces to reckoned with in leftist or Democratic politics. Garofalo has “liberal” inked into her flesh — them’s fightin’ words! — like the new bad-ass biker tat. Fey announced she would be leaving the planet if McCain-Palin won the White House. Thanks, in part, to Fey’s masterful skewering of Palin, no one has to be shot into space. While Fey isn’t known for her impressions, it was clear the universe wanted her to ape Palin. It’s one of those mysterious ways in which the world works.  Said Master SNL  Impresario, Darrell Hammond:

“I’ve never seen a better impression. If they put those two on a sonar, they would match up electronically.”

Speaking of those mysterious ways, Adam McKay (who wrote some of the Fey as Palin S.N.L.sketches) pointed out the absurd perfection of the whole Fey as Palin thang.

“It is the most ridiculous, borderline-dangerous thing that the Republican vice-presidential nominee happened to look like the funniest woman working in America.” 

(***View video of Tina Fey’s photo shoot for this month’s Vanity Fair.)

I’ll Be Spending Xmas with Gerard Butler

All my future holidays will be spent with Gerard Butler. He’ll carve the turkey, he’ll spike the nog. He’ll piss in the snow and put my brothers in headlocks. He’ll be baby-daddy to my little kiddies, I mean my little nieces and nephews. (Sorry Cha, that photo I chose of Butler’s blue-jean clad crotch had me, um, momentarily mmm distracted. That’ll never happen once you two are married. Once he’s yer hubby I’ll forget he was ever a hottie.) Yep, my sisterly friend Cha Cha is going to be Gerard Butler’s bride and those nieces and nephews are gonna be ungodly insanely beautiful. Devilishly beautiful.

That’s right, bitches, hands off! He’s Cha’s man! Well, not yet, first I have to write a screenplay… okay first I have to figure out how to write a screen play (novels, I know, screenplays, not so much.) Then that screenplay will become a movie and Cha will dress like a Latino hoochie and strut about on set. THEN eyes will meet, souls will meld and uglies will bump.

Then I’ll be the prettiest bridesmaid possible next to the MOST BEAUTIFUL bride ever and then will come those happy holidays spent with Mr. Butler giving Mrs. Butler a festive dry-hump beneath the mistletoe.

So, any ideas out there for a good GB movie? I need to get on this cause I only just now got this email from Cha:

Dear Dia -

After thinking about your desire to get into screenwriting, I have a request.

Please write a vehicle which can star Gerard Butler.

I am pretty sure we are meant to be but just need an introduction.

Thanks for helping me find my future mate!

CC

Before this note, which I only just received 10 minutes ago, I had no idea that Butler was my friend’s soul mate or the star of my very first screenplay. Please! Send GB script ideas my way. I need to write it, sell it, and get Cha married off to Gerard all before next Christmas cause he is sooo setting up the giant glowing Rudolph that roosts on the roof. I can’t be bothered with it, I’m too busy writing on a furry stocking in glitter-glue cursive letters: G-E-R-A-R-D.

SNL Throws Blind Punches

Before Saturday Night Live was even over I was already writing about it. I love Hugh Laurie as Dr. House plus it was Poehler’s last show so I was ready to laugh. And there were a few good laughs but the icky skit that poked fun at New York Governor David Paterson’s blindness was not one of them. Maybe he’s a little cracky, maybe not, I have no idea either way but he’s definitely blind and so were the jokes — jokes which were definitely about his blindness. The skit portrayed Paterson as bumbling and inept; he was bumping into things, unable to sit in a rolling chair, holding graphs upside down. “Lookie me! I can’t see!” and NOT “Lookie me! I’m cracky!”

It bothered me into the wee hours of Sunday morning and it’s still bothering me.  And it looks like I’m not the only one who recoiled. Blind Advocates, disabled citizens and David Paterson himself were dismayed and grossed-out. 

Think about it… when have you ever seen a blind person acting like a bee just stung their eyeball? Roaming around, knocking into things? Reading graphs upside down? Acting like a complete moron? It’s not the reality of the disability. To imply that Paterson’s not fit for public office because he’s blind is to imply that blind people can’t do anything really — well, not anything that involves walking or talking or thinking.

Also, I hardly think that blindness in any way compares to “giant gums with tiny teeth”….. ???? Makes me wan’t to have my own “REALLY?” skit like Amy Poehler and Seth Meyer do on SNL’s Weekend Update. Really? Really? Really?

David Paterson should be applauded for being a strong mo-fo who overcame his disability and became the governor of New York. How cracky can he be? I know plain ol’ potheads who can barely make it to the curb store for more papers never mind the seat of the Governor’s office.

I know, I know. It’s comedy. But that argument doesn’t hold much water considering that it was the cheapest of shots and not even remotely funny.

I didn’t laugh. I cringed and then I ached and then I cried.

Why? Why tears?

Cause we’re better than this, is why. We’re past that kind of ignorance and it was a bummer to see it showing its very unattractive face…an uninvited guess in a dated get-up. YUCK. Yea, yuck…that about sums it up.

Two Gracelands — Sunday AM Punk Rock Gospel

“And my traveling companions are ghosts and empty sockets, I’m looking at ghosts and empties but Ive reason to believe that we all will be received in graceland.” — Paul Simon

Every time I’ve ever driven through Memphis I’ve made sure to have this song Q’d up and ready to go. Then I push repeat like 10 times at least. It’s just so great. It’s about a city, it’s about Elvis, it’s about God, it’s about heavan. It’s about the way those things blur for some of us… rock & roll redemption. It’s about a state of grace. It’s about suffering and yielding to life. It’s about love & losing love. It’s grief and it’s healing. As if all that weren’t enough it’s also a really great travel song and goof knows I love one of those.  

The first time I ever heard Willie Nelson’s version — “There is a girl in Austin Texas who calls herself the human trampoline” — I was in a Tennessee truck stop en route to Texas. I was moving to Austin actually so I was en route to becoming “the girl in Austin Texas”.  It was one of those magical moments where you feel saint-touched… a nod from the gods… ancestors saying yea, keep goin’, you’re on the right road to the right place.

Graceland

The mississippi delta was shining
Like a national guitar
I am following the river
Down the highway
Through the cradle of the civil war
Im going to graceland
Graceland
In memphis tennessee
Im going to graceland
Poorboys and pilgrims with families
And we are going to graceland
My traveling companion is nine years old
He is the child of my first marriage
But Ive reason to believe
We both will be received
In graceland

She comes back to tell me shes gone
As if I didnt know that
As if I didnt know my own bed
As if Id never noticed
The way she brushed her hair from her forehead
And she said losing love
Is like a window in your heart
Everybody sees youre blown apart
Everybody sees the wind blow

Im going to graceland
Memphis tennessee
Im going to graceland
Poorboys and pilgrims with families
And we are going to graceland

And my traveling companions
Are ghosts and empty sockets
Im looking at ghosts and empties
But Ive reason to believe
We all will be received
In graceland

There is a girl in new york city
Who calls herself the human trampoline
And sometimes when Im falling, flying
Or tumbling in turmoil I say
Oh, so this is what she means
She means were bouncing into graceland
And I see losing love
Is like a window in your heart
Everybody sees youre blown apart
Everybody sees the wind blow

In graceland, in graceland
Im going to graceland
For reasons I cannot explain
Theres some part of me wants to see
Graceland
And I may be obliged to defend
Every love, every ending
Or maybe theres no obligations now
Maybe Ive a reason to believe
We all will be received
In graceland

*************************************************************************

“LOOK OUT FOR THOSE NODS FROM THE GODS, Y’ALL,” sez the girl in Austin Texas. “Cause I’ve reason to believe that we all will be received.”

There is a girl in Austin Texas who calls herself the human trampoline and sometimes when Im falling, flying or tumbling in turmoil I say Oh, so this is what she means. She means were bouncing into graceland. — as sung by Willie Nelson

Amy Poehler sez “Sayonara” to SNL

Amy Poehler is leaving SNL and tonight at the Weekend Update desk she thanked her SNL fans.

She’s supposed to be on an Office spin-off.

It will probably be funny as hell but I’ll miss her on SNL.

Amy was ready to go though.

It’s gonna be really hard — Boyz II Men hard — to say goodbye. SNL was dangerous, late-night, last-minute and star-studded, but like any good drug, you need to know when to put it down.

She probably wanted to spend more time with that new baby too… the child she shares with funny hubby Will Arnett. Little Archie Arnett!

House Rocks the House on SNL

Hugh Laurie hosted the holiday episode of SNL.

Kanye West was the musical guest.

It was an interesting pairing.

Hugh Laurie plays an arrogant a-hole on TV and Kanye West is the real life thing. 

Hugh Laurie could not withstand the foul-mouthed flirtations of Amy Poehler and Maya Rudolph and broke into a blushful twitter… which was really quite charming. I’m with Rudolph:

No no you sit down, you gotta talk British some more.

The following quote, from an an obligatory Christmas dinner skit, may make it onto my Xmas cards:

Merry F-ing Christmas. You know what? F* you. F* Christmas.

(I actually love Christmas. Madly.  But being forced to celebrate with a bunch of scrooges is no fun. Every year I think I probably would enjoy the holiday more if I could just be alone to revel in the dorkyness of the season… just me and my tinsel, mistletoe, eggnog & bad lifetime movies.)

Normally, I love Weekend Update much much muchly but this week I was kinda grossed out when they made fun of the New York Governor, David Paterson, for being blind. OK, for being a blind cracky but still. It weirded me out.  We should be excited to have diversity in politics. Especially now, with Obama’s win. We need diversity in politics. It’s a must. We need people of color, people with disabilities, gay people, women, transgender folks. We need it all!  America is about that someone with “a gamey arm or the giant gums with the tiny teeth.” We need to “pull outta the freak bin.” It was just very old skool oppressive and in poor taste. (You know it’s bad when I’m squawking about poor taste!)

A blind man who loves cocaine… my life is like the plot of a Richard Pryor movie.

But then my hackles settled a bit when during the “Really?” segment of Weekend Update Poehler commented on Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich’s idiocy for getting caught on tape and failing to use code words.

When I call up my weed guy and ask for $50 bucks worth of circus tickets, you know what he doesn’t bring me? Circus tickets!

That got me laughing. Cause I love the circus!!!!!  Weed’s not the worst either. I’d rather have circus tickets though. Fo Sho.

There was also a sad-funny joke about Michael Jackson’s bling bling glove going up for auction.

Man, if that glove could talk! It wold probably apologize to a lotta kids.

Finally, Amy Poehler said goodbye. Her stint on SNL is officially over. She’s gonna concentrate on an Office spin-off and on being mama to Archie Arnett.

Issie Blow, I bow to you

I love Issabella Blow…. she’s my fashion soul-mate….

I wish she had hurt less and could still be here to get dressed.

I miss you, Issie… Merry Christmas.