Plug-o-Rama!

Very quickly because I'm a very busy, very important person...

Tonight I'm appearing at Luna!

And I'm doing something or other that will be very funny, Thor willing. Where on earth did they get that braided hair pic of me that's on the site? What other embarrassing pics might they have? In my preemptive defense, that horse totally wanted it. Anyway, here's all the 411:

"Eating It" at Luna Lounge is every Monday night at 8:30PM sharp. Doors open at 7:30 PM. Admission is $8 (includes one free drink). Valid photo ID required to enter. 21 & over only.

Luna Lounge is located at 171 Ludlow Street which is between Houston & Stanton streets.

This coming Wednesday I'm doing this show:

“Becky and Friends at B3”
The B3 Comedy Lounge
33 Avenue B & 3rd Street NYC
Hotline: 212-971-118
Every Wednesday at 8PM
$4 cover buys your first drink (Rheingold, bud, wine, soda, or bottled water)

And then on Friday, I get to host backstage video interviews for Comedy Central's web thang at Comedy Central's Bar Mitzvah Bash. Sounds like a blast to me.

Who knew a Hebrew school drop out could achieve such greatness?

Felber Tonight

I'm appearing at Luna Lounge for "50 in 50" -- 50 comics in 50 minutes.

Tonight at 8:30 Sharp!

The past 2 years it has been 60 comics in 60 minutes, with the 20 best given a spot at Irving Plaza for a segment called, you guessed it, "20 in 20."

The past 2 years, I immodestly submit that I have made the cut and been one of the 20 in 20. You can even watch me in action at Irving Plaza.

Click here and see me perform my original song, "Pay Per View Doesn't Show Cock." I played the autoharp I had bought at a junk shop and then smashed it, having no clue I was partially ruining an authentic "3rd Man" junior autoharp. After the show it was pointed out to me and I searched the stage for the pieces that had been chipped off in my passion. I recovered most all of them -- the stagehands who had almost been hit by flying bits of autoharp were very nice and remembered where they were.

The next year I did a flute and song tribute to my hero after September 11th, Kelly Osbourne. Here I learned that wearing a pink wig and sticking a cigarette in your flute like a rock guitarist is fun.

This year there will be no "winners" chosen, it's just a show for the crazy fun of it.

Here's the info from the site:

EATING IT PRESENTS 50 in 50 (50 comics in 50 minutes) Hosted by Colette Hawley
You think 7 comics is a bargain at $8 (including a free drink)? How about 50 for the price of 7? It’s the return of one of the most popular, diverse and eclectic comedy events in New York! Come see 50 comics perform in 50 minutes (give or take a few). 50 in 50 will feature many of our Eating It regulars along with several newcomers condensing the best of what they do in 60 seconds, with plenty of creative twists and outrageous surprises. Past editions of the show featured a celebrity all-star elderly tap dancing revue; a comic’s mother telling dirty jokes; the compete Enron scandal in 60 seconds; bad magic tricks, raunchy mad libs; a musical concert on a saw; Phil Collins Junior, and a 60 second reverse strip tease.

Host: Host: comedian Colette Hawley, creator and host of “Confessing It”, “Dating It”, “C Sharp: Comedy and Music with an Edge” and “Box of Sadness”

With:

Craig Baldo, Sara Barron, Becky & Noelle, Clara Bijl, Jordan Carlos, Adam Cole-Kelly, Josh Comers, Jane Condon, Jonathan Corbett, Jessica Delfino, Pete Dominick, Becky Donohue, Andres duBouchet, Peter Dutton, Ophira Eisenberg, Susie Felber, Jon Fisch & James Patterson, Kimmy Gatewood, Bayne Gibby, Mike Gold, Matt Goldich, Josh Haness, The Hazzards, Seth Herzog, Tim Homayoon, Peter Hyman, Dan Kennedy, Leigh Kessler, Eric Kirchberger, Nick Kroll Andrea Rosen Chelsea Peretti & Roger Hailes, Shauna Lane, Nasry Malak, Moody McCarthy, Liam McEneaney, Veronica Mosey, Sara Polon, Dan Powell, Susan Prekel, Stacey Prussman, The Rob and Mark Show, Kristen Schaal, Debbie Shea, Dave Siegel, Bricken Sparacino, Rebecca Tingley, Amber Tozer, Adam Wade, Jessica Wood, Florence Yoo, & Rena Zager.

***
Now, here it is 1:20 PM on the day of the show and I have no clue what I'm doing for my minute.

Come on down and find out!

PS Next Monday at Luna I'm doing a "real" longer than 1-minute spot.

Purim Passion Play

At the last minute I was drafted for a one-night only opportunity to be in a couple of really funny oft Purim-themed sketches. It is a fundraiser. Well-written by Rob Kutner, a writer for The Daily Show with Jon Stewart.

Congregation Shaare Zedek
93rd btw B'way and Amsterdam
10PM (but show up around 9ish for tix)
...and I am told there will be food and booze aplenty.

Only problem is that I have no idea how much it is. It's for a good cause though, so fill your pockets.

I'm psyched. Purim is a fun holiday and a rare chance to let your hair down in the congregation. My friend Eric told me that on Purim, "One is supposed to drink until one can no longer tell good from evil."

Same old, same old, eh?

Hang on a Polyester-Pickin' Second!

Oh feck, I almost always forget to plug myself.

Ah! I remembered!

I'm performing tonight!

Come to: The No Relation Comedy Show

Awesome but unrelated, Joe DeVito and Anthony DeVito perform and host an excellent show just a stone's throw from The Emprie State Building.

No Relation Comedy
JACK DEMSEY’S
36 W. 33rd St. (b/w 5th & 6th)
1, 2, 3, 9 to 34 St./7th Ave.
B, D ,F, N, Q, R, V, W to 34 St./Herald Sq.

TIME: 9PM
PRICE: 1 MEASLY DRINK!

Tonight's show features the hot & writerly Todd Levin, the hot & visiting Brit sensation Jo Caulfield & wonderful ol' me!

See you there!

Or not.

xoxoxo,

me

Say No More

Damn I was tempted to hang it all and name the name of the place I dissed in yesterday's post. But hey, it's not just bad karma I fear as I said. You see it is an Italian restaurant after all. Nudge nudge, wink wink, say no more. Eh? Eh?*

* Actually it's not that kind of Italian place and to be honest I'm not really scared of Mafia-type revenge for some crap I write on my blog that is only read by 5 people/year.**

**OK, maybe I'm just the tiniest bit apprehensive, even though I know it's insane. You know, they might be connected, you never know.***

*** OK that is insane. They are probably not Mafia. That is a terrible cliche and you Susie are a bad person for even thinking it. Shame shame on you!****

**** Still, it might be dangerous to publically humiliate them. Any restaurant has sharp knives and they are right down the block and... Wait, who is that knocking on the door now? It's only 8:20 am. Funny, I'm not expecting anyone... Let me go see and...."Why hello man in white jacket with cleaver and blood stains on his apron, how can I help y..AAAAAAARGHHH!!!! ARGHHHHHHH!! YAA!! Ow! ARGH!! Gurgle gurgle, ARGHHH!!!!!"*****

***** That cartoon-like "AAARGH!" was supposed to imply I had been attacked by the chef and that I was screaming for my life. Anyone who has a better way to represent screaming bloody murder in a more realistic way, please feel free to contact me. Thanks!

Spin City

An upscale Italian joint opened recently on my corner in the West Village. Actually, since the one time I went there lunch for two came to just shy of 100 bucks, I suppose "joint" is not the right word. My lunch for two included no appetizer, no dessert and just 3 glasses of the cheapest wine possible. Oh, and one of us ordered vegetable soup as an entree. What I'm getting at is that it's expensive. In other words, I mean to say that when the bill came, I almost plotzed. The price included entertainment such as lots of indeterminate European accents, beautiful young women with ugly old men and one extremely loud gay lawyer who I know tons more about because he was so loud.

Our food was dull and standard. There was nothing offensive, but nothing particularly good. The wine was nothing to e-mail home about. The waiters, however, all look awesome in their candy pink shirts and the tall drink of water who is the host is considered hot by all the middle-aged ladies in the hood.

In the interest of not wooing bad karma I will not reveal the name of the restaurant.

Sure I was predisposed to not like it because I was a regular at the previous restaurant that lived there. The previous restaurant, Anton's, was forced out when the landlord more than doubled the rent. Anton was the chef/owner and employed only 2 waiters & one Hispanic sous chef. With the rent set to skyrocket, he said there was no way he could turn even a modest profit... As if that little fact ever stopped a NYC restaurant from opening.

Lemme get to the point.

I just saw the listing for this restaurant on NY Citysearch. I was curious about what it would say because the place had recently gotten the most devastatingly bad review I think I've ever seen in the New York Times. I think "Snow Dogs" got a better review than this place. The Times review basically said that the restaurant was overpriced, tasteless. The reviewer said the food was as pretty and vapid as the clientele. The reviewer concluded that this place could only attract and was made for beautiful, stupid rich people who were themselves tasteless people. Ouch. Wait, did he call me beautiful? Aw.

The Times ripped this place a new one to the point I felt sorry for them. It can't be that bad, I thought. And I'm not that razor thin and jaw-droppingly beautiful (close but no cigar) so maybe my presence will prove it wrong. So in part to support them and in part because I had a very sick relative visiting who hadn't been out in two days and couldn't go farther than a block, I went. I also went because sadly my imagination was impoverished -- before that day I could not conceive of a lunch that expensive at a little village cafe.

Surprisingly on Citysearch it was a recommended restaurant(!), $$$$ explained the high prices, and it gushed over the food.

But the best part was that it contained this snippet of a review, "Everything looks good at (name deleted)" -- Marian Burros, New York Times.

They just seemed to forget to include the rest of the review which was something like, "Everything looks good here and yet tastes like crap." The review even compared the gelati to supermarket sherberts. I suppose this gimmick is old hat for movies but it surprised me in the food arena. I say this place should cut out the middleman, pull an all-out Sony and just create their own reviewer.

Here, I'll get them started:

"A culinary delight, every dish a winner, you'll wish you were even more ridiculously wealthy than you are so that you could just throw hundred dollar bills at their feet when they serve the panini. Speaking of the panini, it is so orgasmically delicious, that you may forget you just dropped a twenty on what is basically an under-stuffed mediocre sandwich on stale yet exquisitely oily bread. The delicious selection of wines can be paired perfectly with your 2nd, 3rd or 4th wife. After the second glass you may even forget she is only with you because her acting career never panned out and she's really wildly attracted to your pad in the Hamptons. Speaking of the Hamptons, you can enjoy the same vibe at their other two locations. With one in the Hamptons and the other on the Upper East Side, you can relax with others who share your tax bracket, if not your accent." -- Ima Sheetengyou, The Times Herald News Examiner Daily Standard Weekly.

Why pay retail?

When you can get your hands on a fully refurbished blood and fluid warmer?

See how happy this woman in the Gendron Millennium Bariatric Patient Lift is?

That's because her fluids were warmed.

Order now and get 10 percent off a snazzy like-new binocular colposcope!

This coloposcope features:

13.5x magnification (optional 10x, 18x)
Working distance of 275mm
Green filter for clear visualization of vascular patterns*
3 illumination settings
4-legged base with locking caster wheels
35mm or video camera documentation

Act now and we'll throw in a Gomco 6000/6003 GI Drainage Unit absolutely free!

As always, we will beat any competitors price on Sigmoidoscopes & Choledochoscopes. We will not be undersold on Tuttnauer Compact Valueklaves! We are the best in the business for all your Ross Flexiflo Quantum needs.


*Now we know how Paris Hilton shot her video, eh?

Oscar says, "SHOULDERS ARE THE NEW CLEAVAGE!"

Hot off Janet Jackson's fan-tacky-stic waving boobie and recent scathing tabloid features focused on pointing out Anna Nicole-like racks, Hollywood decided to bare all -- their shoulders.

To wit:

Liv Tyler and many of those blonde actresses I can't tell apart were in tops that looked like racer-back Speedo swimsuits. High to the neck but with no arms and ample full frontal shoulder.

Annie Lennox wore a white peek-a-boo shoulder #.

Susan Sarandon's shoulders begged for attention as she had one strap up and the other devil-may-care down. As it was never adjusted I was left to believe this was intentional. She is beautiful but her dress made her look drunk.

To prove how risque shoulders have become, one need only look at nominee Keisha Castle-Hughes, aged 13, whose white gauze type thing was worn only to cover her shoulders.

Even Nicole Kidman did not have cleavage in a strapless #. Yes her gown jutted out brazenly as if supported by flying buttresses, but while they were obviously invited to the dress, her boobs were not in attendance.

Best (and only) Boobs

This was a tie.

1. A Queen Latifah-esque pair worn by Marcia Gay Harden. But Marica had the excuse of being so extremely pregnant I was worried her possible stunt would've trumped that of Blake Edwards.

2. Billy Crystal's (shiver!)

Added bonus Oscar fashion award from me!

Worst Dress

This was also a two-way tie.

1. UMA in her enormous but starchy white layers with yodeller trim totally Swiss Missed the mark.

2. OPRAH actually wore a gown with a huge bow on her butt. She looked like a bridesmaid on that episode of A Different World where Whitley, a.k.a. Jasmine Guy, gets married. With her huge 80's bustle, baby got back... to the future!

White Girl Plays that Funky Music

I'm totally hooked on iTunes radio.

As I work today I'm listening to the amazing stylings of the trance-groove-techno-downbeat-urban-bass-jungle-old school-Euro-progressive-psychedelic-hardcore-penguin-electronica-underground-ambient-coq au vin-garage-house-dance Greatest Hits station.

My pad sounds like an expensive scented boutique and gay bar in one!

I adore it.

And the best part is, it's all free!


UPDATE!!

Yesterday I wondered why Scarlett Johansson was pantless for roughly most of Lost in Translation. What was the larger significance of her peek-a-boo panties in cinematic terms?

In one late scene she rises out of bed wearing naught more than a wife beater and panties. She is chilly and she puts on a long-sleeved cardigan... but she does not make a move to put on pants.

One can only suppose that in Japan, heat does not rise. In Tokyo heat falls and one's nether regions are continually burning hot. This is why they have the tradition of community bathing. It is very important to dip one's squidy bits into water to avoid possible pubic fires. Yes, this is also the reason why Asian peoples evolved to have less body hair.

Well now that I've figured it out, I'll be off now.

Ciao!

Lost in Translation

I finally saw this movie last night.

Spoiler warning!

I'll tell you what was lost in translation: Scarlett Johansson's pants in almost every scene.

That's it, I must scoot out now to a meeting! Toodles to you poodles!

The Economy is Improving

From Craigslist, a site I have secured work from many times:

*Job Alert* Get Paid To Kick A Guy In The Balls!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Reply to: dvhour@mac.com
Date: 2004-02-22, 3:28PM EST


Female models wanted in the New York City/Long Island area, for a Jackass
style comedy website. Minimum pay is ten dollars an hour to kick a man in
the balls. Average wages much higher. Schedule is very flexible. Email us at
dvhour@mac.com This is not a joke.

Please email us a photo (optional), contact info, and/or general bio, for
example:
1. Tell us a little about yourself? (your height, age, do you have a sense
of humor...)
2. What interests you in the site? (express any ideas, curiosities...)
3. Your physical activity background? (sports, dance, defense, yoga...)
4. You can send a resume, but we prefer non-academic info in relation to
yourself and the site

Leave a day and time that is best to reach you, so that we can set up an
interview.


Compensation: $10 -$20 per hour
This is a part-time job.
OK for recruiters to contact this job poster.
Please, no phone calls about this job!
You may contact job poster about other services, products or commercial
interests.
Reposting this message elsewhere is OK.
this is in or around Manhattan/Long Island

Going Dutch

Whenever I go out with someone, I feel most comfortable if we go Dutch.

Clogs, tulips, Oliebollen -- the whole megillah!

Yeah, I got nothing today. Unfortunately the sqrat recently emerged from his trash can in Central Park & saw his shadow. This bodes for 6 more weeks of very little funny.

In other news, I'm appearing at the UCB theater for Hump Night this Wednesday (tomorrow) at 11PM. It's usually a stellar show and it's free as the wind blows, grass grows, FREE.

My Little Piece of Heaven

Some of you know that when I need to shake off the showbiz stink and avoid the flash bulbs of the pappyratsy, I head to my little get away in the country.

But I didn't say which country, did I?

Well here it is, Felber Ranch.

Come visit anytime!

Sorry

Ever since the Janet Jackson scandal, this blog has been forced to run on a five second delay. Refresh your screen in 5 seconds and witness my stunning off-the-cuff commentary.

If when you refresh you don't see anything new, chances are it was censored because it was deemed too shockingly funny.

Me and my hilarity will be appearing on MTV2

The show tapes this Thursday, but that's all I can say.

Stay tuned for all the exciting details, including a 6-week tutorial on how to actually find MTV2 on your dial.

Dial? What? Isn't that soap?*


*As I want even more on-camera work, I am attempting to create the impression I am not old enough to remember TV's with dials, Teddy Ruxpin or Pac Man Fever. Thanks for your help in this grand deception! Shh!

If

If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.

If you don't have anything to say at all, blog.

Sorry my kitty cat lambiekins, but knee-slapping blog-larity is currently taking a backseat to freelance writing contracts.

I'll be back with my regularly scheduled witty bon mots toot sweet.

Super Bowl Half-Time Show Highlight

Forget Janet's boob, the most surprising and thrilling surprise was Shirley Hemphill back from the dead and going to town on the drums.

I Have Big Issues

Close to my heart is the Hubble space telescope. Screw going to the moon, Hubble is an extremely important research tool that should not be abandoned.

Here's a petition for the Hubble with links to more on the issue:

www.savethehubble.org

This has been a self-important plea for flossy space flotsom I have nothing to do with. Now back to my really important job: making cheap jokes...

I'm a Woman of Mystery

Tonight I'm doing this lovely show. It's cheap & cheerful. It's an intimate room, but not in a creepy way.

Sweet Paprika
Friday Night comedy with Ophira Eisenberg, Allison Castillo & Guests
Village Lantern, 167 Bleecker St., between Thompson and Sullivan,
A, C, E, F and V trains to West 4th Street, 6 train to Bleecker/Lafayette
212-260-7993
$5
Show starts at 8:30 PM

With
Gary Welz
Todd Levin
Greg Walloch
Mystery Guest - ???

Mystery Solved. It's me, La Felber.

Thar She Blows Up!

The funniest thing I've seen in ages. Funny 'cause it's true.

Decomposing whale explodes on Taiwan street

TAIPEI, Jan 29 (Reuters) - The decomposing remains of a
60-tonne sperm whale exploded on a busy Taiwan street,
showering nearby cars and shops with blood and organs and
stopping traffic for hours, local newspapers said.
The 17 metre (56 foot) dead whale had been on a truck
headed for an autopsy at a university earlier this week, when
gases from internal decay caused its entrails to explode in the
southern city of Tainan.
The whale had died after it was beached on the southwestern
coast of the island.

REUTERS
Copyright (c) 2004 Reuters

Picture can be found here.

Don't ask, Do tell

My new fancy doctor on the Upper East Side is currently treating my long-standing, horribly painful, and possibly-cancerous-if-left-untreated medical condition.

The previous doctor I saw for this had tried many extreme and extremely painful cures such as surgery, freezing and powerful anti-cancer drugs -- "Whatever you do," he said, "do not even think about getting pregnant while on this." The toxic drug was in a strength that was so potent it had to be specially ordered. It was all to no avail. After months and many visits I was no better, possibly worse. Before seeing this doc I had been in freelancer land. I didn't have any health insurance and I just had to suffer. The let down that having health insurance did diddly was awful.

As I sat on the paper-lined puffy examination couch or table or whatever it is,
I looked out the window at the Metropolitan Museum and steeled myself for the terrible treatment this new doctor would put in motion. It had taken me a year to get up the guts to give another doctor a shot.

He said, "Well, before we start anything, you should know that there currently is no cure for this that works 100 percent of the time."

Yes, I knew that. I've read everything available on it, on the internet. I tried to imagine what hospital I'd be booked into.

He continued, "Yours is possibly the worst case I've ever seen, so of course surgery will be very painful..."

I think, "Thank goodness I have health insurance, so I can afford this."

Then he says, "But I have had success with..."

I think, "Get out the knife, do your worst, I must be rid of this!"

"...duct tape."

Duct tape. Duct tape? Duct tape and...?

"No," he says, "just duct tape. Slap it on and leave it on for days at a time."

I am being treated with duct tape. The roll was purchased at Rite Aid.

Here's the weird part: it's working.

It's working like a charm.

Thor almighty, it's working!

Here's the best part: my insurance covers my visits to this UES Warlock with an MD.

Totally Fly

A rare movie rental recommendation from moi:

Winged Migration

This wacky French creation about migrating birds is not exactly a documentary nor is it wholly fiction; it stunning and it is both. You don't need to be a bird nerd to enjoy it and dahling, you must get it on DVD for the behind-the-scenes poop.

It was beyond beautiful and done without any special effects. The only distraction was the male Enya-type music, the ugly yellow chyron titles on the screen, and the voice in your head that demands to know how on earth they filmed it. Then the "making of" bit was mind-blowing. The filming was more bizarre than I could've guessed, and it left me wanting to know even more.

The website is cool-looking but a bit shoddy. For example, in flash it shows the migratory pattern of the ruby-throated hummingbird. It shows them traveling no farther north than Georgia. Tell that to my hummingbirds who arrived in upstate NY soon after Memorial Day and left with their suitcases packed full of perky pet instant nectar immediately after Labor Day.

Last May was the first time I'd ever seen a real live hummingbird.

I was up in the country doing who-knows-what on the log cabin's screened-in porch. Maybe I was cleaning up? It's very possible I was barefoot. It is almost certain I was mostly just happily spacing out on a warm sunny day.

Then I heard a motorcycle in the distance, which was odd because the area was usually so quiet. I craned my ear towards the screen to figure out where it was coming from. The motorcycle seemed to be going back and forth on a distant road, but if the road was distant, why did it sound so clear? Anyone who knows me knows my lousy hearing is a constant source of frustration for me and anyone trying to tell me something. Figuring my bum ears would never crack the mystery, I gave up trying to listen.

I turned my head to get on to thinking something even slightly useful and suddenly I saw the most enormous bumble bee flying to and fro, right on the other side of the screen.

The bee stopped and hovered in mid air, his motorcycle engine noise chugging away as he idled. He stared straight at me and I saw this obese bee was wearing metallic green and red coat.

Clear as a bell I heard him say,

"Hey lady, I'm a hummin' boid, a.k.a. Archilochus colubris. Look I've been flying like a crazy person. I'm friggin' exhausted. The trip from Central America was a nightmare... I'm getting too old for dis stuff... you know that dis place is da one I come to every year. Now what say you get that feeder out? Oh stop with da innocent act, would ya? Wait a sec... you're new here, ain't ya... OK toots, I'm only gonna tell you dis once. Go move your pretty little ass and fetch the feeder -- yeah it's the tacky plastic thing you found under the sink. Clean it up nice, fill it with that delicious red sauce and try to make it snappy. My people are all coming to dis here establishment and I's don't want anything to go screwy. Oh you're a comedian, eh? Well from now on in you is humming bird craft services. Whaddya lookin' at me like dat for? We provide an important service, ya know? Yeah we provide...ah... wonder 'n da beauty of nature and all that shit. We've got an understanding, yes? Good. Don't make me go all Hitchcock on your ass."

Thanks to the extortionist hummingbirds who mostly ignored us as they dive bombed the feeder and one another in true thug style, it was a summer full of wonder, the beauty of nature and all that.

Oh summer summer summer. Type it enough and maybe it will come faster...

Oh, right... the movie... well the movie's site has them but the movie doesn't show even one hummingbird, so don't get your hopes up. But if the albatross, the puffin or the stork turn you on as much as they turn me on, you will go crazy for this fine feathered flick.

Resolutions Schmezzolutions

I'm moving to sunny Mauritania!

From the article:

"They are proud and show off their good size to make men dribble... Once they are fat and beautiful they can serve their men well..."

The only hitch to my plan is wondering how long it will take for me to believe that causing male "dribble" is somehow sexy.

Think Felbsy think!

Tin Pan Susie

This coming Saturday night I'm taking the whole dog & pony show to my ancestral homeland, a.k.a. Lawn Giland. I'm not sure who's on the bill other than the lovely and talented Joe Devito and myself.

Saturday, January 31st
Tin Alley Grill
630 Stewart Ave.
Garden City, Long Island
10pm
$5 cover, no drink minimum
No reservations -- get there early to get a good seat.

I bet my groupies are camping out at the LIRR ticket window right now.

Mix it Up

Lazy/busy blogger technique: the link.

Dean going nuts in musical form may already be old hat, but here's a site that has them all.

Some are funnier than others, probably because the amount of copycatting has diluted the funny. Still, some of the remixes reminded me how much I liked the original tunes. Oz-zy! Oz-zy! Oz-zy!

Actually my favorite part of the Iowa jazz was watching a home-based caucus do their thang on C-Span without any commentary. I was cooking a beautiful pasta of excitement for dinner and hanging out with Ed and my friend Eris. The highlights of peeking into this Iowa caucus (held in Elmira, I think?) were honestly thrilling:

The bottles of blush wine and the brownies.

Hearing a woman say, "Mr. Wilson you've been a very good boy" and then having the camera pan all the way down to a ratty-looking, clueless poodle sporting rust colored eye crust.

Hearing another woman say, "I haven't been able to open my door since I hit that deer."

Watching a head of the meeting crack everyone up when she said, "OK we need an alternate for this committee, in case Joe* gets his foot caught in the lawnmower again."

*I don't actually remember what the accident prone guy's name was, but I am 100 percent sure of that scruffy poodle's name.

You Better Work It Girl

I hafta admit it's getting better, getting better all the time -- I've secured good work of late and after a long slog, there seems to be more on the horizon.

So of course I'm very busy. Too busy to write a clever blog entry. Someday soon my freelance butt will be paid for all this work (about 6 months from now) and I'll need to go out and paint the town fuschia with other folks as flush as I am.

Here then, is a job listing I found for y'all. No need to thank me, just buy me a bottle of bubbly when you get the gig!

Poultry Times and Poultry Egg & Marketing
P.O. Box 1338, 345 Green Street,
NW, Gainesville, GA 30503. P(770)536-2476. F(770)532-4894. Email: chill (at)
poultryandeggnews.com. Website: http://www.poultryandeggnews.com. Chris
Hill, Publisher & Editor. Minimal freelance percentage. "Poultry Times is a
bi-weekly poultry trade newspaper covering the entire poultry industry, from
production to processing and marketing." Welcomes new writers. Circ. 10K
each publication. Poultry Times: Biweekly. Pays on publication. Buys FNASR.
Accepts reprints. Sample by phone, mail or fax. Subscription Poultry Times:
$12 surface mail; $122 airmail; Canada surface mail $28; surface mail other
$36.

CURRENT NEEDS: "Poultry farming/processing issues and local government
action affecting poultry production/processing. Read online editions to get
a flavor of style." Pays flat fee of $150 for first item, $75 for second
item on same assignment to new writers to Poultry Times, "upon negotiation
for recurring use of writer." Submit query to publisher & editor.
PHOTOS/ART: N/A.

This is not an ex-parrot!

I love this story: Winston Churchill's parrot is still alive & kicking... & cursing.

Oh no! Maybe he isn't! Maybe he wasn't!

This is worse than last week, when I found about the whole Easter bunny sham.

Oh but do clap if you believe in Tinkerbell & foul mouthed anti-Nazi birds!

An Open Letter to Rosie O'Donnell

Dear Rosie,

Sorry to hear about Taboo closing. That must totally suck.

Even with a financial loss that trumps what most people make in a lifetime, you are reportedly ready to saddle up the ol' Broadway horse again. As always, I genuinely admire your pluck.

But while I do enjoy theater and do appreciate all you've done for the overall health of Broadway, I can't help but wonder why you've abandoned your roots.

You made it as a sassy L.I. comedian. Not as a singing comedian and not as a dancing comedian. Not as a comedian who needed a full orchestra or a union crew. Not as a comedian with a stage manager or the need for a rehearsal space other than your bedroom.

Rather you were a very talented stand-up comedian, playing in all the rat holes comedians are forced to play in.

Your generation boomed with comedy. Back in the 80's you all had paying spots but the boom went bust and you left us with a sick and dying comedy club scene.

Now you've made your money and you've ran off and left us for the more glamorous world of tourists and turn turn kick turn, two, three, kick turn!

Have any successful comedians of your generation looked back and then taken an interest in ameliorating what is happening now?

How about our own NY treasure, Jerry Seinfeld? He, not unlike other comedy legends, is known to run into a NY comedy club bringer show, do a spot and run out. In this way he validates the clubs. Seinfeld makes the poor, exploited, and crap bringer show comics believe the club's hype: that all an inexperienced comedian needs is bought stagetime. The club lures shows full of these inexperienced comedians buying stage time because they are told it is a career trajectory. It also keeps the usually miserable but long-suffering audiences in the dark as to their involvement in the whole "bringer show" sham.

I admit that as a working comedian it's very hard every time I hear someone say, "Oh, you're a comedian? My sister-in-law's brother's wife's dental hygienist is a comedian too. She's only been doing it for a few months. Personally, I didn't think she was very funny... but we saw her perform at (insert big comedy club name here) with Jerry Seinfeld, so she's obviously doing really well. So where do you perform?"

Or what about a certain NY-based late night talk show host who once featured cutting edge acts he had an appreciation for. But this man, whom I will only refer to as "Schmettermon" hasn't physically stepped out into the NY comedy world in decades. This is why his more recent comedy acts seem to be the choice of a partially labotomized man.

You see, your generation took the money and ran.

When the comedy boom went bust you all ran as fast as you could from the shoulder pads, the skinny ties and the hair mousse. You ran to sitcoms, to talk shows, to HBO and to Broadway shows. You ran from nothing less than the rotting stink of the over-exposed stand-up comedy carcass.

I can't say I wouldn't have done exactly the same thing in your position. But at some point I would've come back to clean up after I'd cleaned up.

Speaking as another sassy comedian originally from the fetid seagull pooped on strip mall full of ignorance that is known as Lawn Giland, I know how loathe you must be to go back.

Rosie you are much more than a grumpy do-gooder producer who currently has a bad haircut: You are a comedian. If you come to terms with this I think you and your check book will be a lot happier. If you could stop faking a crush on Tom Cruise, you can stop faking being legit. Embrace the freak comedian within, for your comedy is the well spring of your talents and that from which you were sprung.

Outside of the rotten core of the comedy clubs there is amazing comedy happening all over the city. Sure it can be argued that maybe the comedy clubs are beyond saving... that maybe without the throngs of cocaine addled audiences it's a no hoper. But no! There are are ways to contribute to the health of comedy, even if you don't go whole hog like those amazing young visionaries at UCB did.

Look, Rosie, The New York Times will review you if you dance around barefoot in your loft for long enough, but they do not even give a nod to comedy outside of a theater.* What I'm getting at is that we obviously need the publicity a helluva lot more than Broadway does.

You can drop the elaborate song and dance with me. You had me at, "Where ya from?" Help us Obi Wan, you and yours are our only hope.

Sincerely,

A. Comic


*For some reason The New York Times does review cabaret, another art form often performed in tiny sticky-floored bars and clubs. All I can think is it's because the Times has a thing for tame whimsy and all the trimmings. e.g. middle-aged people who often over dress in crushed velvet & people who usually like their publicity shots to be photographed in a coy manner using a vaseline-coated lens.

Slow News Sunday

Wesley Clark is auctioning off his new argyle sweater on ebay, and donating the proceeds to charity.

This is the very same sweater I made fun of.

No joke here: just providing a resource for all you fabulously wealthy eccentric do-gooders who read my blog.

Ice, Ice Baby

The last time it was this temperature in NYC someone wrote,

"It's so cold I developed gonorrhea just for the burning sensation."

I salute the author of this brilliant joke. I would like to properly honor him by visiting The Tomb of the Unknown Comedian.

At the April 1st ceremonies, people who love comedy gather to throw tomatoes at the coffin of the Unknown Comedian, listen to a spirited rendition of taps played by an orchestra of kazoos and leave bouquets of rubber chickens on the site.

See you there.

I Love Mayor Bloomberg

And I don't care who knows it.

He's our own Daddy Warbucks.

He could've just spent his time & money being outrageously wealthy.

Instead he took on a horrible job at a particularly horrible time in NYC.

Instead of $195,000 a year, he takes only $1 a year in salary.

He speaks spanish, but as he sounds like a nasal NY Jew when he does, it's freakin' adorable.

He was responsible for sending me and thousands of other smokers free nicotine patches through the DOH.*

He was a lifelong Democrat who became a Republican to be elected and I love that funky non-partisan stuff.

Today he unveiled a NYC budget with a surplus.

I don't want to hear the surplus is mainly from Wall Street profits.

I heart Mayor Bloomberg.


*I'll admit he killed the bar business, which really sucks, but my hair smells nicer after a night out. Thanks Bloomie!

Yesterday

Wow, yesterday's entry was so much more exciting than today's.

Don't believe me?

Yesterday I told you about a comedy show I'm doing tonight and where to find the hot new preview clip of the movie I'm going to be seen in.

Today I tell you I'm about to walk the dog before a business conference call.

Today I tell you I've had an orange, lots of instant coffee & cucumbers vinaigrette. The dressing bottle had to be run under hot water because my home made olive oil/garlic concoction had congealed. The cucumbers were old and their flesh was either too hard & white or too clear & squishy.

As I type half the cucumbers remain dressed and sitting in the bowl. The upside is my urge for Japanese take-out has passed. Actually, my urge to eat ever again has passed.

Yesterday all my troubles semed so far away.

Read yesterday's entry again & remember the good ol' days...

Or just remember where ol' cukey breath will be performing tonight.

Holy Moly!

The website for the film I'm a gonna be in is up!

There's even a clip!

Even though I am not one of the stars by far, I'm in that there preview clip. Twice, if you look really really closely and catch those venetian blinds.

It's a Sullivan Brothers, Boy in the Drain, 19th Hole Entertainment production.

It's First Time Caller.

Fun. Without bias I can say that this film is going to be good.

But my acting? Well, hopefully I can't drag it down too much.

Excuse me, but I've got to go & be all nostalgic for my hot summer week when we were shooting in Melbourne, Florida.

Comedy Tonight?

Nope, tomorrow.

I'll be performing with a slew of fab comedians in a casual & very dimly lit basement.

Come on down to:

Becky's B3 Comedy Lounge
33 Ave B at Third St.
Weds @ 8pm sharp
Take the f train to second Ave
$4 cover buys your first drink (rheingold, bud, wine, soda, or bottled water)


PS Karaoke begins @ 10:30, so start brushing up your Total Eclipse of the Heart, now.

Snow Going


This Monday I'm up in the Catskills.

The virgin snow is being worn by the pines. They look like very ladylike octopodes, offering us their branches clad in white gloves.*

Save now, I'm hard at work. I've got comedy writing deadlines as well as a shiny new corporate copywriting gig. With all sincerity and little modesty, hooray and hoorah for me! I love being as busy and employed as possible. The more work I do, the more I'm able to get done. It's very much like exercising a muscle and comes with the high of accomplishment, if not the endorphins.

I am trying to write a particularly sticky tricky bit. It comes in fits and starts. Suddenly, I hear a woodpecker going to town on a dead tree.

"tat tat tat tat."

It's so charming I could faint. A woodpecker! Right outside my window!

"Rata tattattattattattat..."

...Followed by snow blanketed silence.

"Rata tat...tat...tattattat.....................................tat."

It sounds like he's mocking my typing.

"Rata..."

He's stopped. Why? Whatever. He's finally stopp --

"Rata. Rat. Rat. Rata. Rat. Rat."

Sounds like he's tuning up, with an avian Me May Mah Mo Moo.

"Rata TATTATTATTATTATTATTATTATTAT. RATTATATTATTAT!"

Nature is beautiful -

"Tatta ATTICA ATTICA ATTICA!"

But I'm starting to think it should be seen and not heard.

"Rata TATTAT...TAT...tat?"

I want to ring the neck of my little feathered foe until his eyes bug out & his crown is red for an entirely different reason.

"Rat...ah... Oh, almost spaced, got a 4 o'clock with Woody and his people. TAT, er, I mean, ta ta, darling!"


*Octopodes? Well saying "octopuses" makes me feel like an octo-pussy, and not the cool James Bond kind at that.

Won't You Be My Voter?

According to today's NY Times Clark recently shed his suit and donned a sweater to appeal to women.

Do women like his new look?

Yeah, they adore it... if they haven't come anywhere near hitting puberty.

Hi Voter!

Get Back to Where you Once Belonged

Mr. Tremble himself clued me into this anti-Dean ad called Back To Vermont.

The ad contains 11 insults hurled by 2 very old very white people. This should help the Republican image as way too many people think of Repulicans as young, hip and inclusive. Only 2 insults in the ad can be called policy-related and they get no more weight than the other barbs. The rest are a series of supposedly bad elements attributed to Dean that the country shouldn't be hoodwinked by. Below I've listed the 9 non-political insults made political and how I stack up.

As we go, why not play along and see how many ugly Dean qualities you have? At the end, we can compare totals. Fun!

Latte drinking
Check!
When I'm feeling flush. They go for 60 dollars a pound in my neighborhood. Still that's probably because most good-looking youngish laptop-toting cafe drones deduct their latte as office rent.

Sushi Eating
Check!
Sake to me & Maki mine a double! I had a cool Japanese sister-in-law. Faking not going to vomit + something called Chu sours gave me bravery and an addiction to the stuff. I ate and adored sushi for years before I'd even touch a smat of cooked fish.

Volvo Driving
Check!
A 1972 Volvo was my first car. I wanted a VW Bug so badly. I looked and looked with my parents and saw and saw a bazillion mini rust buckets. My parents had generously agreed to match any contribution I worked and saved up for. Perhaps this was because unlike my brother, 4 years down the line they didn't have a smoking hot sexy car* sitting right in the drive to give me absolutely free. So sure, I worked the guilt angle.

With my less than 1000 bucks saved up and burning a hole in my pocket I hadn't given up the dream of a VW Bug. So when asked to look at this tank-sized monstrosity of a Volvo I was none too happy. As a teenage surl (and girl) I hated that I had to be polite because the Long Island mechanic who owned the thing was from a nice foreign family my father had treated.

I went to see the car silently fuming at my father for subjecting me to looking at a big, fat loser mobile and forcing me to go through a fruitless charade. "A Volvo!" I thought, "That's what those 30-something "Baby on Board" yenta a-holes drive." "And this one is how old?" With my internal snarl turned all the way up, I got behind the wheel and instantly fell helplessly and truly in love for the first time. It was like Fozzie Bear's car in the Muppet Movie, but with the added glamour of Miss Piggy.

It had a lovely curved front, not unlike an old Mercedes. I love a car with cleavage. Oh it looked like this and this!

It had a lot of miles on it when I bought it because the mechanic said he often drove it to go skiing in Vermont (Vermont!). When I got it there were exactly 119,863 miles on it. Of that I'm sure, because once I bought it, I noticed the odometer never once moved. I joked one too many times that it got, "No miles to a gallon." My precious drove us to high school and later up and down to college in Vermont (Vermont!) and almost never faltered. It merely complained loudly when as a 17-year-old, I didn't know you had to give a car oil and it plum ran out.

Years later I sold it to another mechanic, my man in Vermont (indeed!). He looked a lot like the cuddly main troll in LOTR, dubbed it "pre-classic" and for years I'd get reports from friends who lingered in Vermont of him being seen driving my metallic sand colored beaut to the dog races. I sold it only because I was poor after college, too poor to afford the repairs she started to need. Baby, if you're out there still, maybe waiting for your owner at the track, I'm sorry. At the time I was scared of the commitment. I'll take you back, I'll pay your insurance, I... I'm wiser now in the ways of caring for a car. I now own a chamois cloth and I know how to use it. Didn't we have good times? Oh Baby I miss you.

NY Times Reading
Guilty as Charged!
Damn, this reminds me I totally forgot to give the delivery dude a holiday tip. Thank you hate ad!

Body Piercing
No.
Not even pierced ears. It might be because my family has a tendency to develop cysts. More likely however I'm too lazy. Plus my burning desire for a nose stud in the late 80's and early 90's faded when others, who I deemed uncool, beat me to the punch hole.

Hollywood Loving
Yup.

Left Wing
Yup.
Yet for some reason a certain family member of mine tells people she knows I'm going to vote for Bush. It's probably because we don't agree on certain war-related issues. Still, it's great to have a debate with someone who recently proved they had no clue who Tarik Aziz was.

Freak Show
Yes
My life and career, welcome to it.

Back to Vermont
I'd be delighted!
Home of my sometimes scary never boring freak show Alma Mater -- where Jojo was often a man who thought he was a woman -- and Bernie, the first Independent elected to congress in 40 years. Vermont is a beautiful state & the place I might very well live now if my Hollywood-loving career permitted.

My Score: 8 out of a possible 9!

Wow! Who knew? Maybe this Dean dude is the candidate for me!

Or maybe, just maybe, it's because I'm an East Coast Jew.

I'd bet my boots the first draft of the ad was called "Back to Israel."



*My brother might try to convince you his first and free smoking hot car was less than perfect. Not true! Sure, it literally was smoking a good deal, but it was cool. It was a sporty** long 2-door number that even had faux leather on the outside -- and it was FREE! It even drove, sometimes.

**"Sporty" here being defined as pimps cruising for business.

Dirty Mind

I'm no designer, but shouldn't Earthlink's Parental Controls icon have a diagonal red line through it?

Winter Wonder Why Land

NY1 shows it's 25 degrees.

The wind is howling down the alley,

like a pissed off pit bull,

a dog some people want to rename the New Yorkie.

I shudder at the thought.

Looking for Trouble

I'm strutting around town in an ultra long, black quilted parka. Yeah I thought I was pretty smart until I saw every other woman in NYC has one. Now when I see one I imagine we all had a one night stand with Dracula. When we sobered up and saw the bite marks we went running out of his loft wearing nothing but his comforter.

Hence forth and from now on and from here on in I proclaim that our long black quilty down coats be dubbed a "Vampire's Duvet."

As in, "Hey, I adore your Vampire's duvet!"

Sure, "Dracula's Duvet" has the alliteration, but is less workable for common street encounters.

Also today I was feeling very smart in my pink hat, until I saw the subway car I entered had two others seated with similar toppers. Suddenly I knew why it was called the F train.

One was a puffy, grumpy Hungarian-looking chick in a pink knit number and the other was a ragged looking suspected tranny wearing a fuzzy pink cloche that was almost identical to mine. The suspected tranny was attempting to eat a huge but frozen solid slushie. He/She entertained us by lifting the bright yellow iceburg a good ways out of its plastic cup and gnawing at it before it slipped back with a clunk. I knew this ride was not good PR for the pink hat wearer's of the world. The ride down to W4th was a real head trip.

Oh ha ha! I am so heelarious! Oh ho and ha ha! Ha! Hoo ha ho!

Ha! Ha? Huh?

Oh.

Well in any case, from now on us serious looking NY'ers wearing pink cloche hats will be referred to as "Inspector Gidget."

I'm taking one final stab at being unique by wearing braids. But if I see another overaged woman wearing adorable fey little plaits to disguise the fact that she too hasn't showered -- I'm going to lash out.

There's no doubt today will be totally hit or Swiss Miss.

PS Though my personal cutting edge is a bit dull, I can dish it as well as take it (as long as I'm dishing it, of course). Next week you can catch me once again contributing my outrageous barbs of hilarity in US Weekly magazine's Fashion Police.

Enjoying my Bottom

For Hanukmas I was given the 3 DVD set of Bottom.

It is among the funniest TV comedy to be had. Like Ab Fab, it inspires and intimidates me. Bottom is clever scripts cleverly disguised with knock down drag out physical comedy genius. How funny is Bottom? So funny I just about bled out my eyes and had milk spew from my rotator cuff.

It's a British show more than a decade old but it is timeless and hardly known on these shores. Get to know Rik Mayall and Adrian Edmondson's wonderfully disgusting duo by getting yourself a copy or five of Bottom - Not Another Half-Arsed DVD Set.

A Very Bob Shea Christmas

Now with super secret link!


Since I see people are searching for it, I give you part the third of Bob Shea's stop action puppet adventures, voiced by my Ed.

It's a short Christmas special and was personalized for Bob's clients and friends.

Don't let the fact that this one was made for us get in the way of your 7th day of Christmas enjoyment.

Wishing you and yours a Perfectly Nice X-mas.

How to do Drugs with your Dog

You can leave your dark glasses and cane at home because the Rite Aid on the corner of Hudson & Charles allows dogs. Business here is always booming and barking* because most drug stores in NYC won't let a pooch in unless they are carried.

In this Rite Aid around every corner you see a flash of tail, in every aisle you hear the clean click of 16 nails on linoleum and waiting on line you can zone out as the standard poodle sits and ponders the weird little bat faced dog in front of you.

Tonight Stan and I picked up a prescription, conditioner, toothpaste -- and a lamb infused rawhide, just to show my love and allegiance to both Stan and Rite Aid.

It should be said, so I will, that the Grove street pharmacy on Grove and 7th also allows dogs. The Grove street pharmacy is tiny, very friendly and carries to die for upscale skin stuff like Ahava.

Grove street pharmacy does lack some of the finer things in life that Rite Aid boasts; the miles of discounted canned broth, the oaty goodness of half-price breakfast cereals and the aforementioned rawhides. But if you can afford the down payment required for a jar of Ahava moisturizer, you are no stranger to high maintenance charges and will certainly enjoy TGSP, as no one calls it. I am but a West Village peasant and admire the simple charms of Rite Aid.

Oh Rite Aid on Hudson, of thee I sing!


*See how right there I sounded like a bad Zagat's entry? Best grab the leash and see if Rite Aid has a cream for that.

Flu and far between

I personally know of only two people who have gotten the flu. One is a comedy writer and good friend. The other is a Swiss pianist who lives next door with her guitarist boyfriend and two aged mutts. I suspect the comedy writer only has the sniffles and is crying flu, but maybe that's wishful yet uncharitable thinking.

But I am completely afraid of slipping into the clutches of the seemingly inevitable flu.

I even have the buds of symptoms. Achey neck, slightly rough throat, and all I want to do is sleep. Am I coming down with the flu or did I have a late night last night?

I don't need a doctor to tell me. I watch way too much CNN.

Untitled #476

Last night the MTV party was pretty uneventful. I danced on top of some light up platform that probably wasn't intended for dancing. I used chopsticks to eat cooked sushi and mushroom tortellini that tasted as if it was filled with sweet potato.

It was so very crowded. It was loud with decent music and there were three shadow dancers that my branded ass could only think of as a live iPod commercial.

I ran into lots of good people I knew among the throngs, and we screamed in each others ears to catch up. Because everything had to be screamed, people got to the point quickly.

"YOU LOOK GREAT"

"I LOST 40 POUNDS. WORK OUT 5 TIMES A WEEK. FEEL THIS. I HAVE NO ASS."

I went to the bathroom and ran into a comedian I love who happened to be working with catering. As we chatted two headphone decked women dressed in black frantically radioed for a female EMT. Jen said, "Someone's drunk." I did a sweep of my eyes to see what stall contained the PA on a bender, but no luck.

That's when Jen told me some guy had fallen earlier from the balcony. "How did I miss it", I thought. "Did he live?" is what I asked. She said he was so drunk he probably didn't feel a thing as he was on his cell phone telling someone about it as he was carried away on a stretcher.

All this and I left before 11PM.

Waiting for the subway, I find I'm on the wrong platform and I book light speed to the local track. There are four cops chatting. Two very fat and in uniform and two chunky but cute undercover cops. The undercover cops are relating how they were with Bloomberg on a subway journey. They speak of the secret service that were also there. One fat cop says awestruck, "I've seen those guys, they have their shit together." They go on about the secret service the way actresses I know go on about Emma Thompson, or comedians I know go on about Andres du Bouchet.

Then they get to talking about the Republican convention, and what a mess it'll be. Protesters coming out of the woodwork... from Seattle, even. Still, one cop points out how great the money will be, what with all that overtime they'll make. They agreed and this threatened to end the conversation.

One of the undercover cops looks worried. He says very ominously, "Oh but you know it'll be nasty."

What? My hackles went up. Will there be rubber bullets? Horses trampling people? Tear gas? I have great respect for the NYPD, but any hint of planned nastiness and I was ready to send Susan Sarandon packing for a trip to City Hall.

"You know those people. They won't have washed in days. They are going to smell. They are going to smell really really bad. And you know we're the ones who are going to hafta pick 'em up."

At that point I couldn't help but laugh. The undercover guy said, "It's OK, you can laugh. But it's true."

It was so cute.

The RNC at Madison Square Garden: smelly hippies vs. budget busting overtime pay. Tickets are on sale now!

My sweet patootie is off to the MTV Networks holiday party tonight. Now that Comedy Central has been completely assimilated into the Borg, they can no longer have their own holiday party.

Someone just told me there are going to be upwards of 5,000 people there. Since I work from home, I'm going alone. What if I don't run into anyone I know? I'll be stuck in a corner by the punch bowl quietly ripping apart people's fashion choices with P. Diddy, that's what.

Same old, same old.

And the Award Goes to:

Gawker.com for pointing me to this, the best "before & after" photo ever.

Felber Tonight

What: SPLIT ENDS – an all female sketch comedy show.

Who: The Ladies of the Brothel, MEAT, guest comics Jessi Klein and Ohira Eisenberg, hosted by Susie Felber <--- that's me chickadees.

When: Tuesday night, Dec. 9th, 7:30 show

Where: The PIT theater – 154 W. 29th Street, between 6th and 7th avenues.

Why: Why not.

All tix $8

Reservations: 212-229-2726

More info on: www.thebrothelnyc.com

Felber Spreads Message of Hate

A few weeks ago I sent a wonderful woman named Naomi a baby shower gift from her internet registry. The day I put in the order, I happened to visit another friend I haven't seen since she fell into the baby vortex. a.k.a. Park Slope, Brooklyn.

There hanging in her son's crib I spied the very toy I had selected a few hours before, The Fisher-Price Ocean Wonders Aquarium.

Wow! I ask Alyssa about it and she says her son loves the toy, always has, it's incredible. She says all her baby laden friends agree it's a must-have. She tells me the thing plays sounds, the fish waggle, light up and... I need to take her word for it. For as I try to take it for a spin she tells me the batteries are currently dead, further proving how much her son loves it.

Excellent, I think. I am the best present giver ever. I don't know much about babies, but I obviously have an intuitive sense about these things. I really should be a personal shopper or a...

"But you know there's something odd," Alyssa says, "I was reading reviews of the toy on some baby site message board. Some parents claim there's a voice under the ocean sounds that clearly says, 'I hate you' to the baby."

What?

Yes. Apparently this toy aquarium delivers subliminal messages of hate. Amid the controversy, Wal-Mart has pulled it from their shelves. A parent in the article even theorizes this is China's way of getting back at us. Sinister indeed!

So I call my friend Naomi today. She is shocked and amazed to learn of the possible cribside peril she has received from me. Now she's eager to plunk the batteries in and listen for the message of pure baby bile.

Of course like me, if it turns out the aquarium actually says, "I hate you"... she'll be totally thrilled.

Oooh Ah

Once again I will grace the back pages of US Weekly. Next week catch Felber's quips a plenty in "Fashion Police."

Now my glam rump is off to Thanksgiving in the not-so-wilds of Long Island. I'm taking my Scottish pal Angie and my Midwestern pal Eris. I'm hoping I can show them where I was raised, but I fear the holiday crowds mean we may not be able to get near the mall.

Entertainment, Weakly

Sorry I haven't posted much. I've been so very busy lately.

Queer Eye for the What Ever the F He Was Guy

In the underground halls of the subway at 14th street I spied with my little eye:

A dude in front of me with gel encrusted faux hawk and a big honking monk's bald spot.

It was like looking directly into a shark's anus.

Feeling Testy

I hate having my blood checked. It's not the needle, it's not the blood. Heck I give blood regularly. Giving blood is one of the few things in this life I don't do just for the cookies.

I hate my blood being tested because you can't excel at it. I'm a very competitive person deep down and it's a drag knowing that deep down under your skin the best you can do is "normal." My dad the Hematologist explained this to me early and I remember the disappointment. I told this to my brand spanking new PCP yesterday when he was doing the blood letting. He said, "Well, I guess you could have exceptionally low cholesterol. That would be good."

I lit up, I was like a flower put in water, my nipples exploded with delight.

I got the call from the doc today. I steeled myself against being merely normal. For some reason I had not one fear that something would be abnormal... This from a gal who thinks she has incurable toe cancer at least twice a day.

My blood was... Normal.

Yeah whatever, get to the goods...

"Your cholesterol however is -"

I'm dying doc, dying I tell ya!

"Great. Really exceptional. Very low."

I let out a hoot and started giggling. Tell me more...

"Well your bad cholesterol is very low and your good cholesterol is high."

He reassured me this was good. Very good. He said I could live to 120 with these numbers, as long as someone seeing one of my shows didn't throw an egg at me.

Yeah, I think he said egg. Don't know if that would be fatal or how exterior egg might raise my LDL but bless him for trying. He was actually funnier than that would lead you to believe. For me a funny doctor is more important than if he tries to cure me with feathers, bull's blood and rattles.

Basking in my stellar bodily fluid performance (especially since weight and other factors I get nagged by my mother about should have raised it by now), I thanked him and told him I would keep up the olive oil IV's.

He probably thought, "What? Oh, she's usually funnier than that. Bless her for trying."

Win 50 Pounds of Lobster!

I'm looking to pitch to mags I'm not familiar with. Like Redbook magazine, for example. So far Redbook seems like Cosmo for housewives. Angelina Jolie is on this month's cover, but dressed in jeans and not pouting. Think Lara Croft goes to the PTA meeting. It boils down to less sex, less slinky dresses, more recipes and room makeovers.

Anywho, while checking out Redbook magazine's website, I saw an animated banner ad that said, "Put the lobster in the pot, and you could win 50 pounds of lobster!"

Of course I knew you didn't have to click and drag the lobsters, because I am a saavy and intelligent web surfer. But who was promising to give away 50 pounds of lobster? Why would anyone want 50 pounds of lobster? Storing 50 pounds of lobster would be very difficult. What kind of schmendrake would actually click on a banner ad for 50 pounds of lobster?

So I clicked.

It's not a company sponsored contest. Not that I can see. It's a whole site dedicated to giving away obscene amounts of lobster. Is it an advertising scheme? To what ends? The only clue on the site is that it looks like hot chicks like to have and win 40-50 pounds of lobster... go to the site, you'll see.

www.lobstersweeps.com

Lobstersweeps? Is it a joke? No, but how can it not be a joke?

Who? What? Why? How? I...

I feel woozy.

help

Untitled #468

Always trolling for more writing work I found a job listing this morning. A monthly glossy mag looking for full length articles. There were four full paragraphs of requirements. Then at the bottom, it got down to brass tacks:

Compensation: t-shirt, sticker pack +

+! +! What do you think the + might be? Maybe... just maybe...it's a travel mug with the magazine's logo! Oooohhhh! Or UPC symbols from Quaker Oatmeal variety packs? Or even the contents of Zsa Zsa Gabor's bagless vacuum cleaner? I'm so dying to know I'm tempted to write the 2500 word feature for them.

OK, the temptation has passed. But I will always remember the sticker pack that got away.

Stoopid economy.

Me Mum, Me Man & Me Stan

My mom's latest book came out last week and you should buy it. Not only do you get a cracking good read, but it's dedicated to my Stan. Wow! You can find To Tempt a Bride in the stores, or all convenient-like with this direct link to it on Amazon.

Oh and mom a.k.a. Edith Layton, is also once again part of the latest Christmas collection of Regency romances. Here's your super direct-o link to Regency Christmas Wishes.

***

Also my newspaper editing wonder boy Ed takes his 2nd amble into the glamour packed land of showbiz I know all too well by doing all the voices on Bob Shea's latest Brit-puppets-on-Bicardi-bottles short. Watch "The Foreign Exchange Student and His Mysterious Suitcase" here and now.


Not much to report from my end. I've got to get to writing the Spotlight newsletter and then to finding a parka that doesn't make me look like a curly haired hippy marshmallow, a pair of running sneaks that don't give me Brazil shaped blisters and a duvet that has some loft to surround my womanly curves. Since I am a cheapskate who adores quality and hates shopping you can expect these purchases to be made by the summer of 2006.

Tomorrow, Saturday November 1st at Midnight

I'm doing a 30 minute set @ The Albatross Bar in Astoria Queens.

36-19 24th Avenue, on the corner of 37th Street and 24th Ave.
Very convenient to the N/W train (Astoria Blvd stop). It's a lesbian/gay bar and I'm told it's small with a great crowd. The ride on the N/W line is fifteen minutes from midtown Manhattan.

I was also told:
"If your friends want to come we can put them on a VIP list. No cover and two free drinks each! I just have to get their names ahead of time."

Nice. My pal Eris is coming with a posse of midwesterners. If you want to be my midnight comedy & free drinks, queens & Queens friendly friend, just e-mail me.

Crap!

I'm going out of town and I'm going to miss the Colossal Colon Tour!

From the site in case the link goes bye bye:

What is the Colossal Colon?


The Colossal Colon is a 40-foot long, 4-foot high replica of a human colon. Visitors who crawl through the colon, or look through the viewing windows, will see healthy colon tissue, colon disease, polyps and various stages of colon cancer. The Colon was modeled after a real colon taken from colonoscopy film footage and is extremely lifelike.

Crap!

Or rather, what crap travels in.

Ah well, I would hate to brave the lines and possibly deprive some kid of the once in a lifetime chance to crawl around inside a giant colon.

Also I bet they'll be a lot of poseurs there. You know, those people who go to giant anatomy walk throughs? They think they're so cool. Sorry but just because I haven't sipped cocktails from the Super Size Spleen or partied at Lymphatic-a-Palooza, doesn't mean I'm not cool.

Lots of other things make me uncool, thanks very much.

***Update: 5 minutes after posting this my friend who is a producer on Jimmy Kimmel Live told me they already had the colon on their show, and had guests like Gary Busey and Adam Pena enter through it. It's humbling to learn the colon is totally doing better than me careerwise. Still what a hook! There are tons of assholes in showbiz but very few colons.

Hot Felber Action

TONIGHT kitty cats:

GIANT TUESDAY NIGHT OF AMAZING INVENTIONS AND ALSO
THERE IS A GAME!!!
Tuesdays at 8pm
UNDER St. Marks
94 St. Marks Place (between First Ave. and Ave. A)
tickets are $5 - avail. at the door, on smarttix.com,
or by calling 212-868-444

Tonight, Oct. 21st, notorious mobster Frankie No-Pants (Andres du Bouchet) is being forced to host the show as part of his participation in the Rikers Island
Rehabilitainment Program. He is pleased to welcome:

Susie Felber (c'est moi!)
Mark Giordano
Matt Goldich
The Knuckleheads
Liam McEneaney
Val Kappa

PLUS Jonny Fido, Jamie Greenberg, Deb Rabbai, Michael Reisman
WITH music from The Chairmen of the Board (Mike Birch, Eric Chercover and Randy Soare)!

I don't know

My goals used to be so intense. I'd say to myself, "This year I'm going to earn a few million, get on SNL and do something saucy with actor Jason Patric (from his skeevy yet appealing Rush phase)."

Now that I'm older I find my goals are a bit less lofty.

This year I’m not going to be eaten by jackals. That’s my primary goal.

Not eaten by jackals = success.

Crossed fingers!

Can't you smell that smell?

The ginko trees of the West Village have started hurling their stink bombs at us. The rotting fruit of the female ginko tree smells like the sidewalks have been dressed with cheese spread made in a Yugoslavian man's crotch.

Good Morning!

In other news I have often passed and considered making a visit to the Museum of Sex. The museum's goal is to educate by telling the story of people doing the nasty in various ways through the ages.

They say people who don't know history are doomed to repeat it.

So no way am I going.

Yesterday I met Arthur Miller's grandchild

I think we really had some chemistry. I love a guy who is in touch with his emotions and not afraid to cry. He smiled at me as he ate pre-torn off pieces of croissant. I didn't get his name, probably because he doesn't know it yet. Some people say flirting with a guy in a stroller is futile. But since he's cute, connected and our age difference is merely Zeta Jones-Douglas sized, I call him a catch.

So hey! Besdies the show I'm doing this Saturday at midnight (see yesterday), I'm hosting a sketch comedy benefit on Tuesday for abused animals! Cool! I am so for abused animals. Slap the pigs and come on down to:

ANIMAL FARM!!
A sketch comedy benefit

Tuesday night, October 14th, 7:30 pm
The PIT Theater, 154 W. 29th Street, between 6th and 7th avenues
New York City
$10

There will be singing and dancing and sketching galore. The Brothel (Ms. Marisa Miller, Ms. Sarah Spill, Ms. Margaret Champagne, Ms. Sara Polon) proudly present this wild night of sketch comedy to benefit Farm Sanctuary. Also featuring sketch performances from The Incontinentals & The Scallywags. Hosted by me, Susie Felber.

I guess I should find out what " farm sanctuary " is. Yoga for sexually abused cows? No clue. Ah, here's a clue... farmsanctuary.org

I just ate a whole seedless cucumber!


And I also have a small, small part in this exciting show. It's a staged reading, a grand collaboration and it's taking place Saturday @ midnight. I'm also hosting a sketch benefit at the PIT on Tuesday night, but the cucumber says I should post those details tomorrow.

***
July, 2003: thirteen New York comedy writers get together to collaborate on a play
August, 2003: the writers are given a story and each is assigned a scene to pen
September, 2003: the scenes are compiled, a script is completed, copies are assembled with binder clips

Saturday, October 11th, Midnight: The play is put on the stage...

Save The Town Productions presents


Welcome Home Chester Stanley

a play in thirteen scenes
by thirteen New York comedy writers

created by Andres du Bouchet and Bob Powers

story by Bob Powers

written by
* Sean Conroy - Conan O'Brien, Premium Blend
* Andres du Bouchet - Giant Tuesday Night of Amazing Inventions and Also There Is A Game
* Ritch Duncan - editor, Jest Magazine
* Adam Felber - NPR's "Wait Wait Don't Tell Me"
* Christian Finnegan - Premium Blend, Montreal Comedy Festival
* Susannah Keagle - Jest Magazine
* Todd Levin - McSweeney's, Modern Humorist
* Liam McEneaney - Premium Blend
* Amanda Melson - Jest Magazine, Laugh Riots
* Bob Powers - NY Press, Jest Magazine, girlsarepretty.com
* Chris Regan - 2-time Emmy winning writer, The Daily Show With Jon Stewart
* Michael Reisman - Jest Magazine
* Bryan Tucker - writer, Tough Crowd With Colin Quinn, The Chris Rock Show, Mad TV

and starring
Jeff Campbell, Susie Felber, Jonny Fido, Adam Hipschen, Brian Huskey, Eric Kirchberger, Amy Larimer, Liam McEneaney, Amanda Melson, Seth Morris, James Oakes, and Jessica Phillips

a staged reading

Saturday, October 11th, Midnight

at the Jean Cocteau Repertory Theater
Club Cocteau
330 Bowery
(corner of Bowery and Bond/East 2nd St.)
Doors open at 11:00 PM

Tickets are $8.00
Reservation line: 212-677-0060, ext. 19


drinks will be available for suggested donation during the show

Ow

I've had so many late nights and so much fun, I'm in pain and I've chronically injured that part of my cerebral cortex that controls and regulates trivial blog entries.

Last night I was hanging out post concert with the Fleetwood Mac tour luminaries at the Ritz Carlton.

I could drop more names but I fear I might injure the little dog sleeping at my feet.

When Nerds Attack

Look out, she's pissed at having to look at her more ample sistahs.

Her homepage says "Also, this month is all about toned, not fleshy. "

Fashion police giving out tickets isn't new, it's a game we played in the playground. But this isn't about the clothes so much as the extra pound of flesh. This woman oft mentions there is a dearth of women on the techie panels and events she works. Maybe it's because they don't like her.

Me-Yow!

OK I'll admit, she hurt me and my kind and like a wounded animal I scratch back. I live in her nabe. I own a pair or two of those jeans and wear them to death potting around our hood. I am not a model or a child. I jog down the West Side Highway too, but only so that I can fit through the door. I plead that those were the only jeans on offer at Marshall's.

Yes Marshall's... in Middletown, NY no less. My secret shame. Even my beloved Salvation Armani would have more street cred. And I...I...am cheap. I'm not rich and totally cheap when it comes to clothes. Anything I wear that doesn't have holes or someone else's vintage B.O. ingrained in it my mother has bought me. I live in the wrong neighborhood, I know.

So how is it that I've been one of the Fashion Police? Well, I poke fun at celebrities and try to never be mean. Celebrities who are dressed for an event, who also have enough money to do better. And well, I suppose my only defense is that I don't make fun of the clothes or the people so much as make the clothing choice seem funny.

Or maybe it's just that Karma has come back to bite me in the bootylicious ass.

Retarded Inbred Squirrels
or
If I Had Time I'd Write You a Shorter Post

Today I spied my first ever black squirrel on W4th street between Charles and Perry. The tail wasn't very bushy and it was less skittish about being chased by Stan. In fact it was pretty slow getting away and up a tree. Stan tried to climb the tree and made desperate bird like noises at it but only got as far as putting his paws on the cast iron foot tall gate surrounding the tree. The construction workers who are perpetually working on the restaurant formerly known as Anton's laughed at him.

I saw another or the same black squirrel on Charles street on our second walk. This time the black squirrel was just as slow getting up a tree but carrying a whole peanut. Stan just as psyched. I wondered where the squirrel got the peanut. Stan and I were gaping at the squirrel for a good long while, probably because I'm spaced out on cold medicine and he's a dog who loves to hate squirrels. I enjoyed watching Stan watch the squirrel go to the top of the tree because this one didn't blend in with the bark. It was roundabout then that I noticed two happy and well dressed black women with a baby in a carriage were walking down Charles and laughing at us.

I volunteered, "He likes squirrels." They looked at me with one part interest, 3 parts pity. I felt I needed to justify myself more and I said, "Have you ever seen a black squirrel?" They looked at the squirrel and then I worried they thought I was making a racist comment so feeling the need to explain myself more I added, "They are so beautiful, but I've never seen a black squirrel, have you?"

At this point the women think I'm borderline insane. One finally says, "No, I haven't actually" and they politely ran away scooting down the block as fast at those stroller wheels would take them.

I sniffled my way back home and to the bat computer, where I was sure there was a wealth of black squirrel information, or at the very least, other dolts like me declaring they'd seen a black squirrel.

After learning that if you google "black squirrel new york" the first entry you get is a listing for gay bars, I got my answer.

Check this out:

Squirrels are evolving in New York City.

At Riverside Park on the West Side of Manhattan there are cinnamon colored squirrels. At Grammarcy Park and several other parks around the city you'll find black and dark brown squirrels. But these aren't new species but rather variants of the eastern gray squirrel.

According to Robert S. Voss, curator of mammalogy at the American Museum of Natural History, cinnamon and black coloration genes exist in the eastern gray squirrel population, in fact, in all squirrel populations. Through in-breeding, these recessive traits have come out. City parks form islands, because the streets, sidewalks and buildings of New York are too inhospitable to the squirrels to permit them to mix with squirrels elsewhere in the city. Plus, the urban environment has eliminated almost all squirrel predators. Cinnamon and black colored squirrels are usually at a disadvantage because they stand out against gray tree trunks and so are easier targets for predators. But with the predators eliminated the variant colored squirrels are able to survive.

The above taken from Darwin chat.

And then there's a cheap web page filled with crackpot theories that looks like it has been abandoned in cyber space called the Squirrels in Black. I found this page oddly comforting.

And the moral is: no moral, just another page for my fellow New Yorkers to find should they ever doubt their sanity upon encountering a black squirrel while hopped up on cold medicine.

Play it Again, Sus

Thanks to my involvement in "Wonkopera", a Willy Wonka Rock Opera
it turns out Johnny Depp is now interested in taking on the role of Willy Wonka.

Yeah, we're that good.

Wonkopera runs just two more nights. Catch it Tonight* and next Monday the 28th at Chetty Red, 23rd St. betwixt Park and Madison. The show is round about 8PM and is just 5 bucks with no drink minimum. Speaking of drinky drinks, if you're cheap, an alcoholic or both -- know that they there are 2 for 1 until 8PM. Yowsie!

"Wonkopera"
Written by Dave Juskow, arranged by Mark Humble. Every Monday in September at Chetty Red, performed by the Crusaders of Science: Dave Juskow (vocals), Mark Humble (bass, Vocals), Tony Fortuna (Drums), and Karl Wenninger (guitar). Featuring Susie Felber as Veruca Salt and Jeanett Mienert as Boatswain's Mate and sassy Oompa Loompa.


*Tonight will mark our 3rd performance, but my first being sick as a pooch. I've had my annual cold since Wednesday night and I'm finally able to get out of bed and talk. I'm coughing up technicolor stuff and I blame this all on my recent healthy eating, no smoking, jogging plan I've been on. A woman in my building said I'm "detoxing." If this same woman didn't pay to be given cure all hickeys, I might just believe her.

CNN Hyperblowe

Yesterday during Hurricane Isabel CNN reporter Kathleen Koch was seen in a yellow slicker, oft hanging onto a planter . I also remember her interviewing a couple on the beach. She was all fired up and very disappointed that the couple seemed really calm and happy watching the storm roll in. She enjoyed telling them the danger they were in. She told them to take shelter, most likely because they ruined the hysterical tone she was trying to set.

A few minutes ago she was interviewed as part of the CNN hurricane circle jerk. She told of her young daughter being scared for her while watching mommy being batted around in the wind on TV. So she explained to her daughter that her reporting on the hurricane was exactly like the 9-11 firefighters, running into a burning building because they had a job to do.

Oh no she di'n't!

Oh yes, she did.

The Bottom Line

I myself never found crotchless panties sexy.

Now you won't either.

Untitled #47

On W4th street today I spied a white Subaru Outback wagon with a plate that read:

NANCBOYZ

***

Now if anyone thought my post yesterday was a bit too superficial for the date I suppose it's because September 10 was much more emotional for me than 9/11. For that morning while walking Stan I saw a pretty business woman about my age get run over by a motorcycle. Actually she didn't get run over, she got hit and flew in the air before landing on 7th avenue. She had my ethnic hair but in beautiful glossy black. One not glossy low heeled black pump was in the middle of 7th avenue, one almost on her foot. She had a black calf length skirt on and was wearing grey stockings. Actually if she wasn't on her way to work she could've been on her way to a funeral. The almost blonde woman next to me clutched her child's stroller harder and burst out crying telling no one in particular, "I saw the whole thing! She went flying!" This woman was only a tad less helpful than the man who showed up a few seconds later telling 911, "a woman just fell off her motorcycle." Feeling helpless and not wanting to be one of 100 people calling 911 I ran the block to St. Vincents hospital hating myself for feeling self-conscious about my midriff possibly poking out. I told a doctor outside what had happened. He looked very bored and a bit peeved at me for alerting him to an accident within eyeshot. He said, "Don't worry, I'm sure they'll get her." The fire department did show up a few minutes later. Yes the fire department. I never saw her face, she was wearing a veil of blood. I wish I knew how to find this woman. I want to give her cookies and bath salts and let her tell me for the 1000th time how traumatic it was. I want to do anything and everything for her to plug the hole that is my own gaping uselessness.

Listen Cats, Dogs Should be Allowed at Former Woodstock Site
by Susie

An open letter to the people who now run the Woodstock music festival site which is now known as Bethel Woods:

It was a total bummer man, to go all the way to your beautiful fall harvest festival in the middle of a field only to discover no dogs were allowed. I know the original Woodstock founders have nothing to do with the new owners but I implore y'all to reconsider this totally uncool to canines policy. At the original Woodstock there were lots of dogs and no one got bitten as far as I know. If you are really nervous about liability, maybe you should put up a sign that says, "No Uncool Biting Dogs Allowed."

I also noticed there is now a distinct lack of young nubile naked people and I think you should reconsider that as well. In my experience people like to see young nubile naked people. Just saying.

Thanks in advance for immediately revising your lame no pooch policy because of this letter.

Susie and her dog Stan


For those of you that subscribe, yes, I wrote almost this very thing for the Spotlight newsletter this week.

Really High Society

I'm off to the Society of Illustrators tonight dahhhhhlings.

Me? I have no visual talent other than being able to see where to snag a drink from their open bar. But I do have a good friend with a piece in the show and I adore the Soc of Ill, as all the kids call it. It's like the Friars Club for artists. It's beautiful and a somewhat hidden NYC treasure. And... oh my stars and garters! I must shower and buff and bathe myself in hot oils!

Toodles!

PS For a limited time only, enjoy (or not) the tacky photo/music montage of Stan by scrolling down to the bottom of the page and turning up the music.

Summer Lovin'

Here's to an emerging tradition: The post Labor day break up blog.

Then again, if you like foreshadowing, you can still can find many good summer love logs. Actually I admit I want to adopt the kid whose blog that is.

I myself am fascinated by the blogs of teens who've been recently programmed at a church camp. Because church camp rocks. Especially when you're a guy getting lots of attention from teenage girls in search of HIM. Nah, I like all religious blogs. Especially this woman who realized she was a sinner when she was 8 years old.

The church camp down the road from our Catskill digs just ended. This is good because when not in worship some people from there (counselors probably) tossed their beers on the road, were loudly drunk on our road and finally they threw eggs at cars parked on our road. Point is, they should've invited us along.

Truly, Madly, Directly

I got my 50 bucks worth of free grub from Fresh Direct today and I'm as giddy as a teenage girl.

If they go out of business I will feel really guilty (she said between bites of free pate and French triple creme).

The stuff came wrapped beautifully and in boxes to boot. It was just like Christmas except I got stuff I could actually use. It came smack in the middle of my 2 hour delivery window and you are told they do not accept tips, though I still felt guilty about not offering.

Speaking of giddy teenage girls, if you are disappointed in my sporadic posting and want someone in the mood to share her grand emotions, I recommend this girl.

Scratch that. If you want to know about young love, nothing beats this sweet wiccan who works at Wendy's.