Friday, July 31, 2009

Social Tip #116 - ACT RIGHT

Last night I met a pimp and patiently listened while he described how he "gives it" to his girlfriends.

This story is not about the pimp.

This is about the pimp's friend, who walked up to us wearing a nice camera around his neck and a camera bag under his arm.

"Where'd you get that?" asked our pimp.

His friend lowered his voice, even though he hadn't spoken yet, "You ask too many questions."

That's when I left. You know it is going to get bad when one question is too many.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Social Tip #115 - MAKE SENSE

Me: I'll have an old-fashioned retarded, please.

Bartender: What?

Me: I call drinks what they make me.


A friend told me they met a Hollywood starlet. "She was disgustingly skinny in real life, but on screen she looks just like you. Imagine, if you were on screen, you'd probably look like Rosie O'Donnell."

I know there was supposed to be some sort of compliment in there, but I've only ever seen what Rosie O'Donnell looks like on screen. Does that mean I look like her in real life?

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Social Tip #113 - LET PEOPLE IN

I recently tried to re-enter the US at the Canadian border, and was confronted by the smarmiest border guard. He studied my passport, looked at me, and asked, "What do you do for a living?"

"I'm a writer," I said.

He looked at me doubtfully, "Does that pay the bills?"

Who the hell does this guy think he is? He's a glorified tollbooth worker! It was like I was being inspected by my dad. This is how it should have gone instead:

"What do you do for a living?"

"I am also a border guard."

"Where? I don't have any record of that."

"Between New York and New Jersey. Its the same thing as what you do. People pull up, I tell them they can come in, but they can't bring their eight dollars in with them."

Saturday, July 25, 2009


I was murmuring obscenities at a bar when a friend came up to me and asked, "Don't you think you've had enough already?"

I said, "I don't know, lets ask this glass of wine." I looked down at it like a magic eight ball, "Do you think I've had enough to drink?" then I took a swig.

"It said, 'Ask again later.'"

Tuesday, July 21, 2009


I am a cheap person who prefers to remain mostly detached from society, and as such use a no-commitment Virgin Mobile cell phone on which I spend the majority of my minutes explaining to callers that "Jazzy" no longer deals drugs from this number, but if they do get a hold of him, I would appreciate the connection. This week I am in Canada where it turns out that Virgin Mobile does not provide any service at any cost. Ordinarily, no problem, I hate to talk on the phone, but today is my birthday, and I am obliged to answer or return phone calls from my family who are obliged to call me. In an attempt to alert them of the impossibility of receiving their birthday wishes I sent them an email explaining the situation, and promised I would conduct the following imaginary (read: inflammatory) conversation in place of a real connection:

:Ring Ring:
You: Happy Birthday!

Me: Thanks! You too! (Josh only*)

You: You know what time it is?

Me: 3:43pm, the exact time of my birth. How thoughtful of you to remember. (Mom only**)

You: Right! And guess what else?

Me: As a present you are sending me a new cell phone and service that reaches all the way to Canada?

You: Right again!

Me: Wow, that is really too much. I can't accept.

You: I insist!

Me: No.

You: Yes!

Me: It's too nice, but I really appreciate the sentiment.

You: You are keeping it. Don't make me fight with you on your birthday.

Me: Okay, okay. Thank you so much, you really shouldn't have.

You: My pleasure. What do you plan to do to celebrate?

Me: I'm going to try heroin for the first time.

You: You've never tried it before?

Me: Never.

You: Oh man, it's awesome! (Heather only***). Have a great time with it!

Me: How could I not?

You: Good point.

Me: How is everything with you?

You: My life is working out perfectly, thanks.****

Me: Wow, really?

You: I am currently dating many women who are young enough to not expect anything out of me. (Dad only)

Me: Great! Well, thanks for calling. I have to get going, I promised Cosby I would help him out with a couple punchlines before his big show Saturday night. You know how it is.

You: Not really. Happy birthday! I love you!

Me: I love you too! Bye!

You: Bye!

Me: .....


Me: You're supposed to hang up.

You: I was waiting for you to hang up.

*Josh is my twin brother. It is weird to call my twin on our birthday. It feels like I am being more self-indulgent than nice, like I am forcing him to wish me a happy birthday. Being a twin is strange. When we were little my mom used to dress us up the same to amplify our cuteness factor, only we are a boy and girl, so people didn't get that we were twins. They just thought we were part of a dance team.

** My mom always calls at the exact time of our births. Yes, this is corny, but the upside is I always know exactly when she will call and will not be taken by surprise. Also I know the call can only last seven minutes before she will have to hang up to call my brother at the exact time of his birth. Ahh, the privilege of being born first.

***Heather is my older sister. She is not a drug addict, but instead is the "good" child, and I thought I would convince the rest of my family that she does heroin as a birthday present to myself. I, on the other hand, would do heroin all the time if I could figure out Jazzy's new number.

**** No one in anyone's family ever has their life work out perfectly. This was another birthday gift to myself. Thanks, me. I'm welcome.

Thursday, July 16, 2009


I was walking down Prince street when I saw a dead bird, the second one I'd noticed in two days that had plummeted to the sidewalk like a ripe fruit. He still looked clean and unruffled, considering, so I stopped to looked up to find how far he had fallen. Above him was a street where there was perched an identical baby bird, only still alive, watching me discover the difference between him and his brother. I never much went in for the cheesiness of old movies, but the sudden sadness I felt as I watched the little guy chirp pulled my hand to my mouth like a 1940's ingenue.

A shiny man in a suit whipped onto my sidewalk. As he hurried by, he assessed the dead bird situation with a glance, and then pushed past me with disgust.

So I started watching him instead, because now he was the most awful thing on the street.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Social Tip #109 - FIND TRUE LOVE

I would consider marrying my boyfriend. He's so nice and giving, he'd probably cover the $300 to pay for the divorce. And then let me keep the joke about it.

Friday, July 10, 2009


My freaky talented friend Larry Bonk has committed himself to writing and recording a new song every day for a year. Yesterday he let me help him. Listen here:

Another Day On Earth

If I was a silhouette gazelle.
If I was a solar ray in hell,
crawled into a circle with it's tail.

Subpoena Girls
I object!

If I was a trusted legal aid.
If I was a surfer out in space,
falling to the beat of a parade.

Subpoena Girls.
I object!



Thursday, July 09, 2009

Social Tip #107 - GIVE IT UP

There are a million TV shows telling people they should lose weight, and Suze Ormon wants you to stop using your credit cards because you can't afford it, and Intervention wants to get all of those drug addicts and alcoholics the treatment they desperately need. They're even trying to get Scott Baio to settle down or he might keep having sex with whoever the fuck he wants to for another thirty years.

The only addictive thing that anyone wants to keep around is the television.

Tuesday, July 07, 2009

Social Tip #106 - YOU CAN'T HAVE "JEW" WITHOUT "EW"

A few years ago I was approached by a homeless-scented man with long, curly sideburns and a pilgrim's hat as I was walking down St. Marks. A Hasidic Jew.
"Kosher food?" he asked me.

"What?" Gross.

"You are a Jew?"

"No. I'm not," I said. I am, but only culturally. I had a bat-mitzvah but only because my parents made me. I never believed.

"Yes, Jew," the Hasid said, convinced. "Please," he begged, and wiggled his index finger towards himself and leaning in, indicating that he needed to tell me a secret. I leaned in to hear it. He opened his mouth to say "Kosher food," and then grabbed me by the back of the head and forced my mouth onto his. His starchy beard hairs mashed against my face and filled my nose with sebum and tooth rot, the scent of asceticism smelling unsurprisingly like a retirement home.

"Jesus, what are you doing?" I screamed.

"Where is kosher food?" he asked, as though he hadn't just violated my body and his religion. Hasidic men aren't even allowed to shake hands with a woman, but this one was attacking me in full view on the street. The only secret he had to tell me was that he was a pervert; the horrifying result of internal religious oppression. He came toward me again.

"Get away from me," I screamed as I ran into the street, "I am not a Jew!"

That's what happens when you turn your back on god, he sends his most devout to molest you.

Monday, July 06, 2009

Social Tip #105 - BURN BRAS, NOT FLAGS

My friend tried to get me to dress up in red, white, and blue for the Fourth of July, but I don't go full frontal anymore. The last time I dressed up it just made me feel angry. It's not that I feel misrepresented by all of the terrible things our country does, which I do, it is just that I don't want to be accused of being cutesy.

Being cutesy is what is really wrong with America.

Thursday, July 02, 2009

Social Tip #104 - THINK HARDER

Someone just told me that when they were little, they used to eat their own poop. I don't remember the last time I heard something so disgusting, let alone repeated it.