Thursday, March 29, 2012

Spring Time and Death Metal

Alright I’m back again. Went through a 3 month dark catatonic depression. It’s been a rough winter, even though the weather here in NYC has been mild, the storm in my head has blanketed me in snow (Hello! I’m Robert Frost all the sudden!) It got bad. I would wake up every morning with thoughts of how to die but then would feel worse because I’d immediately realize that I'm too much of a pussy to kill myself. I have no tolerance for pain so slitting my wrists is out, pills would be an option but I can't get my hands on any even though the headline NO NAME FEMALE COMIC DIES FROM ONE A DAY MULTI-VITAMIN OVER DOSE would be super glamorous! I’m too tall to hang myself...suicide just ain't my cup a tea! Anyway don't be alarmed these were just fantasy's and I am not suicidal because I have too many people around me that would be devastated because I’m so damn fantastic and lovable! I have had a family member and a few friends take their lives and I've seen the aftermath and it's just fucking selfish and at the end of the day they are the pussies. Well ok, I understand pain and feeling trapped and like there is no solution but there almost always is. I understand when one is in that “quick sand” it’s harder to see the solutions so I can’t judge people for feeling like they know their time is up, but I can say that it is selfish to the people around them and sort of thoughtless because you would think that people who spend their days swallowed in their own pain and turmoil would have a little more self awareness. I know this journey's not over yet for me at all! There are really amazing, really fucked up, really real things to come that is my reason for being here so bring it on! I have things I want to accomplish before I die like I want to be a mother and a wife, I want to swim with the dolphins, I want to see a lightning storm at sea, I want to pretend I’m Roseanne and crank call Martin Mull.
The thing is when I am really depressed I can get to a place where I literally can't get out of bed for anything. Who knew that in high school when the kids used to joke that I had a mattress strapped to my back that it would be a prophecy? It can get bad I can go for days without showering, moving or opening my eyes and I wish I was one of those people that when I get depressed I can't eat a morsel. Quite the opposite...when I’m sad or mad I can't stop. It's like nothing you've ever seen before...I spend HUNDREDS of dollars on it, I order everything imaginable, I eat it, lick it, devour it, cry into it. It's the only thing that gives me any sort of comfort when I’m in a state like that. Right now I'm huge because of it and it's not cute especially as summer approaches. I'm not gonna be able to pull off the thick black leggings with built in spanx and giant sweaters anymore. In the winter I get to use my smoke and mirrors like painting on a jaw line, hair extensions (because the volume of the hair balances out the volume of the flesh and the length covers your body with an extra layer), blousy sweaters, undergarments from the 1960's...point is I know how to make myself look pretty damn hot. But in the summer it's a whole different ballgame. You can't get away with tips and tricks from Ru Paul’s Drag Race anymore. You have to be naaaaaatural, and just throw on a breezy little dress, and let your freckles show, be kissed by the sun and chew on a daisy's not human!
Last summer I got thin and I can do it again, I mean I know how it’s really not that difficult just cut out carbs and do cardio. I’m determined again so let the cycle of fat thin fat thin fat thin commence! But I don’t want to be thin thin because it never lasts and I think I’m naturally curvy so I’m gonna embrace it. I just want my waist a little tinier and my stomach a little flatter. I’m ok with the big old T&A, what can ya do.
The other day when I was cleaning my apartment, my arm fat and my boob made a farting noise when they rubbed together and I lyed down on the floor and stared into space for twenty minutes. That was my rock bottom moment!
My shrink told me that she's not worried about my over eating tendencies because she claims it's better and less worrisome than my drugs, alcohol and dangerous sex addictions which I can certainly agree with and that it’s better to be a little chubbier and chain-smoke. I think she throws around the word addiction kind of willy-nilly though. Personally I like to think of legal misdemeanors and narrowly escaping aids as more of a hobby but that’s just me.  Right now I can't even try to squeeze into anything that fit me last summer. I see petite little stylish girls in motor cycle boots and skinny jeans with Fara Fawcett tits with no bra eaux my gawd! and gay boys who dress like they're 22 when they're clearly in their mid to late 30’s (THE BEARD DOESN'T HIDE ANYTHING! YOU'RE IN YOUR 30'S WHY ARE YOU WEARING A STRING BIKINI TOP AND HIGH TOP PUFFY SNEAKERS YOU SILLY FUCK!) and I want to kill! I hate New York sometimes. I know it's exciting to people who just moved here from a square state and they want to break into fashion or be a big comedy star but I grew up here and take my word for it, it's ruined! Ever since Lou Reed went on methadone this city hasn't been the same. Most people are just shit talking, ass kissing, uneducated about life, white bread and mayonnaise, boring as hell losers. some drugs dork! Get something pierced! Jesus!
So starting to feel really good, getting my ass in gear and ready to give comedy the old college 80% again! I want to give it 100% but it is important to go at my own pace because otherwise when things move too fast I spiral. I took a few months off from stand up all together but now I’m performing again and am killing so I’m reminded that I am indeed the shit! It's annoying though because gigs I’m booking keep getting cancelled and postponed. My website is down because I let my godaddy account expire and someone bought my domain name in the interim and now I have to buy it back which is super annoying and scary but I’m determined to get it back. In the meantime it's, which is fucking lame. Onwards and upwards from here kids. Hopefully I can get my inner thighs to not touch each other and get fuck me looks by someone other than just black men for a change by June. SHE'S BACK!

Thursday, February 9, 2012

Ambivalence Means Fuck You

Well I'm here in Fort Lauderdale where the streets are filled with palm trees, rich old people, badly tattooed drug addicts, and an odd new wave of ultra femmy black gay guys who seem to have taken over. You would think that a place with the right amount of sunshine, Jewish elitism and gayness with a Nordstrom’s on every corner would make me feel alive again but no no. Florida is such a weird place. I was getting a pedicure yesterday with a jap with Valentino flip flops on one side of me and a crazy mumbling crack head with flip flops made of hay and gum on the other. While I was happy that at least the crack head had some scrap of decency to take 20 dollars out of the crack fund to somewhat groom herself and have her acrylic nails sharpened which, I’m assuming are used as some sort of drug vessel. Wait; do you love how I play dumb? How I pretend like my pinky nail has never seen the inside of a nostril! Anyway I came out here because I literally have nothing going on. No gigs, because I don’t try hard enough to get any, no job, because I’m not qualified to do anything, no money, because I have no gigs and no job.  I got a round trip ticket for like 100 bucks on Cheap Fuck Air (The number one choice of geriatrics with missing limbs and Hasidic Jews who refuse to wear deodorant) so I’m going to stay out here for 10 days and be with my family and not spend any money (other than on my nails, because I may be careening towards a self inflicted dismal future but I always for some reason make it top priority to have my nails done. Maybe because my hands and feet are so monstrous like the rest of me I’d at least like my fingers to look pretty as they clutch a tear soaked Kleenex!) I guess I’ve slipped in a deep dark one (depression not one of the many Ft. Lauderdale femmy black anuses...anii? anuses.) I am aware of what is happening because my depressions, I guess anyone’s depressions, are so pathological. I’m doing well, feeling good, feeling happy feeling somewhat normal and part of the human race and then BAM! I have to sabotage and fuck it all up. Take the part of me that is feeling good and slice her down a few 100 pegs! It’s fine I’m used to it. It’s taking every ounce of strength I have to even write this but I guess the fact that I feel responsible to the 25 people who actually read my blog it means that I haven’t completely given up on comedy. Even though I am SERIOUSLY considering it.
Maybe the lime light should be reserved for the people who still love it, who’s hearts and morale haven’t been rotted by rejection after rejection. I’ll be honest with you fuckers I really thought that I was pretty enough to not have to struggle this long in trying to make it! Or at least that is what I am told by my more successful friends who try to comfort me. “Listen, you’re funny as hell and you’re beautiful, it’s just a matter of time!” I go in for audition after audition and keep hearing “hmm…well aren’t you interesting!” Yeah, “interesting.” Marilyn Monroe with the voice of James Earl Jones, Bea Arthur with an LA face, I’ve heard it all, which to me sounds marketable! Who wouldn’t want a curvy blonde bombshell that could make you weep with her rendition of old man river! I’ve heard producers say “We’ll make you into a sex bomb, we want you to be the sex kitten comedian. You’re so sexy sexy sexy blah blah fucking blah.” OK then do it! Jesus Christ! I mean part of me would sell my soul to the Hollywood machine but a bigger part wanted to be known for my talent but I’m not even given that option!
I guess I just don’t care anymore. I’m angry. Not only because the career I’ve chosen is a painful journey, but because I’ve already had a painful journey and it’s not anywhere close to being over and I am so fucked up and make such bad decisions and won’t let anybody good get close to me. But I am aware that it is indeed a “journey” and I can’t snap my fingers and have the outcome I want (although that would be fabulous!) My anger has surged to new levels though, I’m screaming at hecklers…oh hecklers have new meaning by the way…I invented it. Yeah, it means person who isn’t laughing at my shitty jokes! Everything I have been coming up with for material these days is really blue and dark! I used to be somewhat clean, because I thought eventually I’ll have to do it on TV, but now that that ship has clearly sailed I don’t care! FUCK TV CLEAN SETS AND FUCK YOU GOOGLY EYED COMEDIAN UNFUNNY HIPSTER FUCKS WHO WRITE THEM! YOU MAKE ME SICK! HAVE SOME FUCKING INTEGRITY! BE AN INDIVIDUAL BE A FUCKING ENTERTAINER! STAR QUALITY MEANS DOG SHIT IN THIS INDUSTRY AND IT’S FULL OF PEOPLE WHO LOOK SMELL AND SOUND EXACTLY LIKE YOU! GO AHEAD AND MAKE SOME MONEY NOT MAKING HISTORY AND SUCK SOME COMEDY FESTIVAL COCK YOU REPREHENSIBLE PIECE OF SHIT!
 Right! So like I said I’m kinda angry….My TV clean set that I painstakingly wrote and thought about is now like 8 years old and obsolete and frankly I have nothing else to say unless it’s about the most vile sex acts and rape and misery that anyone’s ever heard! And not rape jokes that some “quirky” female comedian with glasses and a plaid shirt who actually HAS NEVER BEEN RAPED BEFORE but like maybe sucked a guys dick when she really didn’t want to when she first moved to new york and was trying to make friends in the big city, but that like kinda counts as rape, and she get’s a huge laugh when she uses cutesy misdirection. No no, I mean like make you cringe and turn against me rape jokes! ROCK N ROLL! My new stuff I personally think is hilarious and worth a laugh and it get’s laughs but if one table clearly doesn’t like me then I look at them, stop what I’m doing, and ask them why they are not laughing while pointing out that it must be because they are stupid or have something to do with what they are wearing. Who have I become!?! This hardened leathery creature with a microphone. Who crawls off stage and spits on her colleagues and soaks her face in Jack Daniels and pringles! Maybe I’m just not as good at tricking myself into being happy which I think is what people who are happy are really good at! So maybe I am a terrible actress! I can cry on cue but I can’t act happy! Whatever, this will pass; I will talk to my shrink in circles trying to get to the bottom of my pain, which then actually makes me feel better for 10 minutes. Then continue another go around of trying to be something that I’m not for a living only to sink back down and fly coach to Florida on a rickety old propeller plane where I sit in a dark room and type about what a devastated narcissist I am. Don’t worry this isn’t a suicide note; I’d be a real moron to kill myself BEFORE I am famous! Hey look at that! Positivity again! Hahaha!

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Like A Drifter I Was Born To Walk Alone

Last weeks blog was a bit topical for me. I rarely get involved with anything that is of public opinion. I keep my opinions to myself because, and only because listening to people's rebuttals is so boring! Anytime some angry big mouthed "concerned citizen" comes up and puts their two cents into what i say or write i just get like all pimple faced adolescent busy playing nintendo and am all "K'AH LEAVE ME FUCKIN ALONE GHHOD 'MOM' SHUT THE FUCHHHUP!" So boring! I have no patience or interest in what other people think which I am aware is not necessarily an attractive quality but I can't help it. All this talk of republicans and caucuses what a fuckin' snooze! The only cauc i want to hear about is the type that gets hard in the morning and has a vein that goes around it like a staircase on a light house! I mean I do wish the world well and all, I’m not a complete animal! I just prefer not to get involved...I know nothin about nothin! People always say "Harriet why don't you pick up a news paper" but I just wiggle my butt and say "well if I pick it up what's my master gonna hit me on the nose with when I’ve been naughty?” And then I zip up my leather mask and crawl back under the coffee table. 
This week I got to participate in something that actually interested me! I got to wear a string bikini and rub pizza all over my tits for a music video! In it I play a bored single mom who then transforms into "the 50 foot woman" as a part of her young son's Oedipal fantasies. Now I know you all are thinking what I was thinking…transform into a 50 foot woman? But Harriet you’re already a monster! LOOK AT THE SIZE OF YOU! You sit on the George Washington Bridge to soak your feet! Yao Ming Looks up to you, you behemoth! Anyway, despite the obvious type casting I think this video is gonna be pretty awesome and people keep promising me this band is gonna be huge (not huger that me!) but who knows. I'm just happy I got the part in something and got to show my "creative side." I was laying on my back and the director kept handing me things to eat, like toy airplanes and cars and then a slice of pizza which I rubbed all over my pepperonis! It was a little HH improv, which lead to "pizza" being a running theme through the entire video. See that! My tits have the power to make story lines! They also have the power to make lines of cocaine disappear! HEY NOW! I'm excited to see it. Ever since I was a little girl I wanted to be a white snake girl and this is the closest I’m ever gonna come! It should be out in the next few weeks and I’ll post it. It's sexy but with that soupcon of retardation that only I can provide to a role. 

Just praying more roles are coming through. It was so depressing watching the golden globes cause of, you know, the extreme jealousy that I have of anyone who is more successful and better dressed than me. Although the dresses didn't knock me out this year. I thought Reese Witherspoon looked the best I’ve ever seen her in that fishtail red playboy bunny Zach Posen dress with that freshly fucked hair. And Salma looked hot but had such a fucking sour puss the whole time. I know you feel presenting with Antonio Banderes demeans you as a hollywood actress in America but you're not an American actress, your accent is hilarious so put on a smile, sing la cucaracha and count your millions you ornery slut! 

This year was particularly an extra big blow to my ego since I auditioned and got call backs for a lot of the shows nominated: The New Girl, 30 Rock,'s all good I really am just grateful to have been in front of those casting directors and I’m still at the age where I can say that without shooting a vein full of draino. It'll happen...and if best believe the needle's ready!
Still trying to fill up my comedy schedule but kind of half assed about it.  I just don’t fucking care anymore, is that terrible? My agent sounds like he's on the brink of suicide every time I talk to him which isn't a good sign not cause i care if he kills himself but cause he’s not booking me at the moment and I don’t have management which i want and I’m just lazy and annoyed that people who suck have management because they're 'adorable!' I used to have the hustle, I USED TO BE ADORABLE, now I’m like “eh if you book me I’ll show up.” Since I stopped promoting at Gotham (yes Waiting To Inhale is over, i know all 2 of you who would actually come are so disappointed) my schedule sucks because one comedy club show always leads to others. I should promote another weekly show somewhere but I want it to be free and preferably not in the drippy basement of some dirty bar. I’ll just let it happen and every minute that I don’t have to sit with a pad and paper and come up with new material is a minute that I can get back to the things that make me happy! Like procrastinating and doing narcotics in the drippy basement of a dirty bar! I do miss performing though. When comedy is fun it’s REALLY FUN and when it’s not it’s kind of A.I.D.S. I’ll pull it together I always do and at least I’m not feeling generally miserable for once in my life so I’m just gonna go ahead and enjoy that for a while.
Have a good weekend! (wanna party? MEOW!)

Thursday, January 19, 2012


Alright, so all this female comedy news is giving me cunt cancer. In the past months, there have been articles about "Are women funny?" and "Whoa, check out these funny women." Eddie Brill, the comedy booker from Letterman, got fired because there was an uproar about the lack of women comedians appearing on his show and comments he made…yada yada yada. I know I’m one of many to write about this, but I have been getting this thrown in my face and if you want me to comment I’ll comment.
Here it is: women suck. Sorry. I feel really influenced by women because I am one but I’ll be honest every time I’m in a lineup at a comedy show, its not often when a woman kills. It's more rare but that's why it's so surprising and awesome when they do! There have been countless times that I have gotten off stage and heard, "Wow you are the funniest ‘female’ comedian I’ve ever seen," or even from my friends in the industry, "You're really funny for a 'woman'" (just to clarify I put quotes around the word woman in order to highlight. It’s not to be like, I’m a quote-on-quote  "woman" for those of you who have heard my voice or read comments on my You Tube videos that say, "YO DASSA DOOOD, YO!" – which always makes me feel so feminine and petite. Thanks my fans!)
I kind of hate it when people say those things to me after a show, but on the other hand, I get it! Men out-number women in comedy, blah blah blah. I'm even nauseated that I am being forced to think about this by feminists who are so eager to be considered equals that they just separate themselves more in the process! Hearing, "You're the funniest woman comedian I’ve ever seen" instead of, "You're the funniest comedian I’ve ever seen" doesn't really bother me because I know that there are conditions that exist for people whenever they find something or someone they really love! I've never been loved unconditionally so why start now? (child hood! downer alert!).
I got to say I am just happy and pleased whenever someone feels compelled to come up to me and give me a compliment on something other than my tits, period! It’s refreshing! Although a well-said “nice cans” really makes me feel good too sometimes! Unlike a lot of angry women, I rarely think about whether it is backhanded or not.
All these rants I’ve been reading on the Internet have actually had the reverse effect on me. I am very easily molded in general, and all this talk out there right now in the media, in my orbit about: "Are women funny? Women? Women, women, women! Women vs. men! Who women? Whoa, women!" is totally fucking me up because now I’m thinking about it more than I ever really cared to and actually questioning (more so than I normally do, or just differently): am I not as good as the guys? Maybe it's true and I’m not funny...which then sends me into a psychotic spiral and then I'm depressed and unmotivated and think, “Well, why doesn’t a man just do it then? He’s better anyway.”
I guess it has a lot to do with my upbringing, too. I actually remember my mom telling me women aren't as good as men and men run the world and it’s our job to step aside and let men be men – these were my lessons on womanhood. That totally sucks although I have to say that is how I was conditioned!
Parents should teach their daughters that they can do everything a man can do and there is no gender when it comes to success! Unfortunately, from a young age I wasn't taught that. I don't believe men are better on a conscious level, but in the back of my head my confidence is often thrown because I’m being told that I’m not one of the guys.
Then I go further and say, "FUCK! a lack of confidence is such a negative woman trait!" I will say my anti-feminist upbringing has made for some really good cooking and a blowjob that could end a war, but do I feel equal? No. I am constantly thinking how I appear to men. Do they desire me, am I good enough, am I thin enough, am I perfect enough, will he hire me, will he love me, will he marry me? Why do I care so much!? Why is so much of my life built around the opposite sex?
I just went back to the gym after not working out for two months, walked into my goumba trainer Frankie "Bag-a-SnackWell’s” office (even my trainer is important enough to have an office) who flirts with me endlessly…sidenote being flirted with makes my self-esteem soar! If men weren't more important than why would being a sexual object to them matter so much? When a man looks at me like an ice cream cone my day is made and I’m not sorry for admitting that!
Women who say they don't want to be objectified are just scared of getting prettied up because it might make them vulnerable to being hurt or rejected by men which in and of itself still puts men on top! So not wanting to be objectified as a sexual object because of whatever dumb feminist excuses one has really is just a huge contradiction in and of itself! I'm going to stop speaking for everybody else but hopefully I hit a vein of truth when I speak for myself when I say that I went to the gym and got weighed by Frankie "Bag-a-SnackWells" and saw that I gained 20 lbs. and it bothered me because in this society, the smaller I am the more attractive I feel and the more attractive I am, the more men I can attract and thereby gain power.
One must face it: even though (and I truly believe this) women are amazing, in addition to their beautiful brains a big part of their power in this world is their legs and their cleavage. It sends signals to men’s dicks which make them do stuff! I want to make it clear that I love women and I love being a woman and I feel that women really are the magical sex! They hold keys to truth; they see things men don't; they are intuitive, protective, fighters, they bare children; they are of the moon!!! Their bodies are natural clocks (which if you think about it is so cool), they have a tremendous capacity for physical and emotional pain, even though they are perceived by many men to be hysterical and emotional they are in fact the strongest emotional beings. They are constantly being tested but are naturally equipped with the instincts to pass those tests. Women are fantastic and beautiful and that is why they influence men so much, which is nothing to be ashamed of!
I just saw that god-awful Margaret Thatcher movie and even though she was a shapeless buck-toothed windbag in a skirt, she still influenced men and was the only woman in Parliament because men were there first! In our culture men are dominant. It goes back thousands and thousands of years, so fucking calm down that men get the upper hand! No one says men are better actors, song writers, singers, painters than women. Just better comedians? Why is the medium of being funny getting this light cast on it? Why can’t the strong just survive? I'm sorry but it pisses me off that because of my gender I am being represented by a Whitney  poster with some dumb joke like “Women are emotional ninjas. I’m fine means I’m going to stab you in the neck.” When I see that I am embarrassed to be a female comedian! But on the flipside when I watch Wanda Sykes or Joan Rivers, I am proud to just be a comedian period! Anyone who is bad shines a light on whatever it is they are trying to do because they suck, plain and simple. It is just incidental that we are of a certain gender so it makes that light brighter and just gives an added excuse for sucking!
I am not a good comic because I’m a woman I’m a good comic cause I’m funny and smart and have the life experience to draw on. Same reasons a man would be considered a good comedian. I will also be the first to admit that this is a man’s world and I will spend thousands of dollars a year just so one will treat me nice and/or want to fuck me. It is what it is. I would like to live in a world where there is unity among everyone because I don’t want to feel separate and as an artist, I don’t believe I should. I am of the human race and trying my best and ones genitalia should be secondary to producing great work and having a good, honest, loving heart, which is what I feel is really important in this life. Anyway, there ya go. (drop the mic)

Friday, January 13, 2012

I'm Pretty Much The Worst Person Ever

This was a productive week. First of all on Monday I got called into jury duty the first time in my life. I had such anxiety about going, I’ve never been a "participating member of society before" I only started voting the last election but just because people were torturing me about registering and I’d look like an asshole if I didn't and now look what I got out of it, no job no money and jury duty! I do things that are considered "illegal" in this country (smoke pot, steal prescriptions drugs from people who actually need them, piss on cars...) and I rarely leave my apartment or think about anything other than myself so why would I be considered a member of society! So I call my dad, who is terrible in a crisis even though I always go to him when I’m in one because I’m a peroxide blonde Jewish girl from the upper east side and that's what we FUCKING DO! OK? ALRIGHT!? IS THAT OK WITH YOU!? I said "daddy this blows how do I get out of it?" he told me not to show up, that he and my mother have not gone to jury duty once in their lives and uncle so and so says "if they don't send you a certified letta, it got lawst in the mail!" This is the same uncle who lived in a mansion that "fell off a truck!" And be careful! I learned the hard way with him cause if you asked how a house could possibly fall off a truck you'd get a slap on your vagina! Anyway apparently the jury duty system has changed since the 70's and now if you don't show up you get a bench warrant out for your arrest and the way I drive I can't risk that although I’m still wondering what the difference is between a holding cell and sitting in jury duty like an asshole for 3 days other than in jail they at least give you a fuckin sandwich! So I decide, I’m going, I gotta go, it is what it is, if I can sit through a show at the creek and the cave I can do anything. I ask my dad what I should wear and he says "I would wear something very sexy and low cut" as if I own anything else I wore the craziest push up bra I have a low cut t shirt that said "heart breaker" on it, a tiny sweatshirt, tights that you can see my ass through with so much camel toe the fabric of the tights actually re-grew my hymen and then broke it and ugg boots for that added touch of "I take nothing seriously." Basically I looked like coco without the class. There was NO way I was going to stay there! First thing my name get's chosen out of the bucket to go serve on a case that would last 3 weeks if I was chosen. I walk into the courtroom all the lawyers are staring at me like I’m the last necktie on sale at Lord & Boring. finally I get called to tell them my excuse which was "I’m poor and depressed and can't focus on a case because I’m a mess of a human being" and I got let go and don't have to serve for the next 6 years! I swear I’ve never felt like I’ve won something in my life and I won! I did cartwheels home! Who knew cheating the justice system could feel so freeing! I wanted to pound 12 beers and cut off all my hair and go running naked through a field! 
The rest of the week went even better, I had a big audition for a part I probably won't get in a movie that I’m not famous enough to be in, a couple shows, some sex and some pancakes, I was on Howard Stern radio for like the 5th time now, I did a podcast, some meetings about potential was honestly the most productive week I’ve had in months so I hope I keep it up.
I can't stop eating and decided next week I’m starting with the trainer I can't afford again and getting my fucking body together. It's astonishing how quickly weight can be put on when you go from eating 1200 to 70,000 calories a day! I was looking so unbelievable and I knew I’d fuck it up because after all I am "hungry hungry halloway!" (sigh) I’m still nowhere near what I used to be but I will be soon if I don't fucking pull in the reigns and watch it. Slippery slope kids! I know I shouldn't have such an eating disorder or care what I look like and love myself and shit but I can't help it. I'm very vain. I probably think this blog is about me. (god that was clever!)
My friend comedian j-l cauvin ( asked me if I would do his podcast where the concept is he finds a comic who is a die hard fan of something and then debates them on why what they love sucks which personally I think is hilarious! I was really racking my brain (which is in my rack) to think about what I’m a fan of! I'm literally not a fan of anything past the year 1997 which I’m not sure makes me incredibly cool or incredibly cynical, horrible, bitter, and stupid. I think television sucks, I think the writing is awful, if Whitney is the next Roseanne (which it's not) then I’m quitting, and I find nothing to be legendary or awesome or something that people will be watching reruns of 20 years from now! Also admittedly there is a part of me who sees actors who are clearly terrible but fits a niche like "Indian guy" or "I’m a maxim model who's one of the dudes" (YEAH I'M TALKING TO YOU OLIVIA WILDE! FUCK YOU! YOU'RE NOTHINGNESS IS APPARANT TO ME BECAUSE I DONT HAVE A DICK YOU CAN MAKE HARD! YOU ARE MEDIOCRE WITH A GREAT TAN! YOU DID IT! YOU GOT AWAY WITH IT! YOU TRICKED THE WORLD INTO THINKING YOU ARE FUNNY AND TALENTED AND PRETTY AT THE SAME TIME! BUT I AM COMING FOR YOU, YOU CHARLATON AND I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL CARRY YOU'RE STILL WARM PULSING HEART IN MY JUDITH LIEBER CLUTCH PURSE TO THE EMMY'S YOU WORTHLESS CUNT) and thinks that should be me up there, ya know? There are no legends anymore or anyone who makes me perk up my ears and laugh or cry or sing or dance. I know so many talented writers and actors and artists who are never heard and probably never will be because the Hollywood machine recycles and doesn't manufacture anymore. What happened to a new genre of music? A new genre of anything? What happened to stardom, a light that shines so bright it can't be extinguished, something new that isn't a remake of something that should've been left alone? Where have all the cowboys gone? (doo doodoo doo doodoo doo doodoo doo doodoo...)
Anyway have a great weekend dumplings! I'm gonna try not to drown myself in the tub and work out! Weeeeeeeeeeeee!

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

The Years Are Like A Queef

Well happy 2012 everybody! How was yours? Mine blew. I finally got off unemployment (they caught up with me not even remotely looking for a job for two years) and now I have a real job, which I had to start on new years! I'm not going to say what it is or where because my imaginary publicist/rep told me it might tarnish my image as a pretend celebrity. The job to be honest is totally fine because show business has been kicking my fucking ass lately and winning. I haven't blogged since thanksgiving. I feel like barely anyone reads it anyway. I felt that it was only moderately funny until several people (mostly people I’ve fucked that think pillow talk is a Q&A session with the comic…I’d rather have commentary on my sexual performance instead of my actual performance…) have expressed that my blog is indeed funnier than my tweets! Well wrap that hand in toilet paper because I’m about to turn that opinion into shit! First of all that is awesome to hear, I take criticism horribly I always have but I can admit that they're not funny because tweets that I stand behind rarely get “retweeted” or “liked” these days. You see, as a narcissist pig performer making people laugh and then getting the validation on the Internet through “likes” and “retweets” is really the fuel that makes this machine run. Any comic who writes something funny that gets no love gets their feelings hurt because we are all narcissist pigs otherwise we wouldn’t be so hungry for attention in the first place and if they deny it and say they just do it for the love of performing either they’ve been doing standup for a grand total of three years or they’re a FUCKING LIAR! Anyone can write something funny now. I’m in competition with some accountant named Myrna from Tuscaloosa who get’s 30 likes and 45 comments cause her cat got tangled in her grand mammy’s underoos! The thing is I wouldn't tweet anything that I didn't think is funny. I just wouldn't do it! So apparently what I think is funny is just not! And before you say I'm just being hard on myself and “Harriet I love your tweets” no you don’t! No you fucking don’t! It’s ok I can take it. No “likes” means not funny I’m not an idiot. So my "career" if you can call it that, where I say things into a microphone that I think are funny (or “my brand of humor”) is in actuality not funny anymore, so I am failing at what I claim is my dream. You can't be fucking "on" all the time I guess. Or maybe you can! Maybe funny people and real comedians are. I've grown to hate the comedy enterprise. It doesn't make me happy it makes me miserable and fume with anger! I hate comedy clubs, I hate comedians, I hate watching comedy, I hate greenrooms, I hate ungrateful rude audiences, I hate cocktail waitresses, I hate bookers and agents, I hate managers, I hate well vodka so why should I do it? My ceaseless negativity may have something to do with the fact that my incredibly fragile ego has been severely bruised cuz the last 4 shows I had booked in 2011 (and the only shows I have booked, I have nothing set up in 2012) were awful! I didn't bomb but I was just not good. And I know the difference between a good set and a bad set, I have eyes and ears. Again, these things happen but shouldn't I have the resilience or even the interest to get back up there and prove fuckers wrong? I know I’m great, in fact I know I’m one of the greatest (narcissist pig), but something in me is extinguishing that light behind my eyes and it is effecting my performance all around (well not my sexual performance...I can still make a beer can disappear in my mouth BURP) and I just don’t care!
I am a person who takes new years very seriously, I hate it as a holiday because I think it gives people a license to act like an animal or more specifically how I act on an average Tuesday night, however I like what it means. I like a day where the universal consciousness is looking back and looking forward. New years means the same thing to everyone around the world (except the yids and the chinks...calm down I'm trying to get out of jury duty) it's a new chapter, a new beginning where really anything is possible. People make resolutions, there is a general feeling of stillness as things are taken into account while plans are made until bro’s who wear knit caps in the summer and flip flops in the winter and girls who can’t walk in their $25 pair of stripper shoes get FUCKIN WASTED BRAH!!! I actually accomplished everything that I said I was going to do last year, I was on TV, I did a shit ton of standup, I had major meetings and auditions with big networks (never got the part but still I am most certainly on the radar of some major people) I found love (don’t get carried away, it ends tragically but what doesn’t!) I was healthy, I had liposuction, took care of my body, lost close to 40 pounds, definitely grew spiritually big time. So looking back I have to say I am grateful but presently I’m miserable and because of that I think my future is bleak! I just am in a rough place because I’m stagnant and living purely from my ego.
I'm totally a fat fuck again, I can't stop eating and I’m not working out. I feel like I gained like 20 lbs in 2 months however I refuse to weigh myself, but whatever I’m getting laid still which is really the only reason women lose or gain weight anyway. The whole "so I feel better for me" thing is bullshit, you just aren't getting any dick and no one “likes” or “retweets” you naked! It's alright my ass is big and round and my tits went up like 2 cup sizes and since I got the lipo my stomachs still flat so I make black guys CREAM THEIR PANTS! “Daddy I’d like you to meet Daronté!” A friend pulled me aside at a Christmas party and cornered me and put his face real close up to mine and whispered slow and wet "You gained some weight" and I was like "yeah maybe a little," my lip quivering, and he took a long slow deep breath and said "THANK GOD! You look like SHIT skinny! Sorry girl, but you know I tell you the truth, I keep it 100% (snapping fingers) miss honey, OOOOoooooOOOh girl you need curves it's just how you meant to be, when you're skinny you look like you're trying to hard, you look no you really look amazing gabildy goobildee handbags and sparkles blah blah blibbidy blah" which was actually nice to hear considering i've been an insecure mess. So I’m embracing the curves but walking that fine line between Christina Hendricks and Christina Aguilera. I keep waking up every morning and being like I’m going to the gym I’m grocery shopping but what the fuck ever. It's too cold and I’m too angry inside.
What my last entry I said I was going on a dating website. I went on a few duds. Like the one who showed up and was obesely fat and kissed me and pressed his big boner against me like Fat Bastard...I mean I like big guys I’ve dated (fucked) big guys! I like guys that are big dirty hairy daddy piggy boy's oink oink oink FUCK ME! I know that may sound weird but bottom line: if you make me feel petite in any way I’ll go out with you. There's a big difference between big daddy and fat boy! You’re supposed to want to rip someone’s clothes off not put a coat on them! But believe it or not I had a really nice time; I should tell you I’m a PHENOMENAL date! There's never a dull moment, I keep the conversation moving, I'm funny, cute, engaging, I’m quick and witty, I make puns on the fly, I smell nice...I should write a book! I'm skilled in meeting new people and hanging out, what can I tell ya. So fat boy calls me the next day and was like
"Is it weird that I wish I was snuggling with you right now?" and so here it was...I had to be like "listen pal, you're really great but I just don't think we're a match" to which he replied "well if you knew you weren't going to date me you should've just brought me upstairs and fucked me!" and I blinked a couple times and said "well that would've been great for my self esteem!" and he said "well how do you think I feel!?"
"Well listen I don't hate your guts! I actually think you’re really nice and cool and I’d totally hang out again as a friend"
"Friends who fuck?"
"Nah, I’m good" and that was that. Pretty typical and the first first date ever I didn't put out! Don’t know about you but I think that's called progress! Anyway I went out with a second guy and we've been like "dating" I think you call it. I don’t know we'll see...he seems to like me I’ve been trying to be myself in front of him. I think I’ve screwed up too many relationships by pretending to be Barbie so this time I’m just 100% organic farm raised sustainable grass fed double H. It's nice kinda just letting loose, getting finger banged like a school bus slut with family guy on in the background, you know domestic stuff like that. The other day dude literally pulled a dust ball out of my vagina! Of course this would happen to me. He LITERALLY fucked the dust out of my pussy! Now he calls me library book and it's funny, a year ago I probably would've freaked out. But it's cool and very new for me to be with one guy and even entertain the thought of anything happening. I've never done dating before. So many things to consider! Like when you can hear him pee in the bathroom and then realize you over estimated the thickness of the door and the distance from bed to bathroom and he could probably hear everything you were doing in there! Usually a guy is dressed and out the door before I can even have my post coital pee n' queef. 
Anyway let's summarize: I’m an egomaniac comedian who hates comedy, who’s confidence is dwindling by the second, but is still moving towards the horizon slowly but surely. I’m avoiding New Years resolutions. It’s like trying to clean a messy house you neglected for a whole year and now trying to do it all in one day. I don’t want to set myself up for disappointment. Instead of a New Year resolution, how about a daily resolution. Easier to manage, only having to do the best you can in the hours you are awake with the 24 hours you have. So, every day do the best I can, avoid self-criticism and let my adult self be in charge. Also I need to keep the self-pity under careful watch. When in doubt take time to reflect rather than impulsively acting out immature feelings. I’m hoping to have a wonderful year that I can manage to the best of my abilities, rather than passively waiting for it to manage me.
Here we go!!!

Monday, November 28, 2011

Thanks A lot Thanksgiving!

So I’m the only person who can cook in my family believe it or not. Not many people know this about me but not only was I born with the mind of a pervert and the body of a WNBA player on estrogen but I also always was a little dynamo in the kitchen (because I’m hungry) When I graduated high school, which is kind of my greatest accomplishment in life thus far, I was already doing comedy and acting but my sensible father made me do something "that I can fwool back oowon" (try saying that in the nazaliest new jersey Jew accent you can) I knew college was not an option. I wanted to go to acting classes and get my career going! I was going to be a star by the time I was 22 (shut up.) Why would I want more school!? I barely passed high school and absolutely hated school, not because I was unpopular (like duh or whateverrr) but cause it was fucking boring and started soooo early in the morning and people tried to make me do homework, sorry Dennis (I always called my teachers by their first names just to piss them off) after 3pm I’m off the clock. So my dad was like, you can chase waterfalls (my dad's nickname at the jewish community center was left eye...cataracts is a bitch) and be the next tone deaf Bette Midler but here are the options: you paint yourself up like a happy hour whore so clearly you can go to beauty school, and goddamn girl you can cook so you can go to culinary school. I chose the latter. I got into the french culinary institute, completed training and graduated at the top of my class and won like baking awards and best bacon fat renderer and shit like that. I actually loved it but I should've gone to beauty school because it's more lucrative and less serious as a career choice. You can curl someones hair or glue some eyelashes on some pinch faced 16 year old cunt bag for 500 bucks or work like an animal in a hot kitchen where you're not allowed to wear nail polish for 3 weeks to make that much. Anyway I could go on and tell the story of when I worked at Jean Georges for a week and quit because I was getting frying pans thrown at me in between getting molested (sounds like marriage) by french men who called me Barbie cause I had my name embroidered in pink on their chef jacket "euuuu BAHRBI, AHrriet q'est que ce que ca!!?" I had to incorporate a little personal HH flair somehow! Or the time I was molested in a walk in refrigerator (Um...french foreskin cheese is not the ingredient i was looking for in here) The point is, getting back around to it, is I can cook like a motherfucker and do thanksgiving every year. I'm in Fort Lauderdale Florida with my nut case Adderall infused day trader cousin who thinks he's Gordon Gekko but is more Forest Gump, my other queen jap cousin who is always whining on the couch with some sort of Jewish chronic stomach ailment and watching real housewives of everywhere, my aunt and the rest of the Boca blondes. I cooked for 3 days for 20 people they ranted raved and loved. Not sure if it's that I love compliments and attention so much or that it actually feels good to feed people and make them happy on a holiday but either way it was nice, my ego and heart were sufficiently stroked like a Filipino lady boy at a Vietnam vet reunion.  But all good strokes don't last. The longer I’m here chilling with my insane family by the ocean instead of being swallowed by buildings and greyness like a boa constrictor in my hometown NYC, I still have anxiety no one is coming to my show tomorrow, that I’m here so I’m not doing enough in general, that my future will be bleak unless I pull my shit together and what if I don't then what kind of lonely depressing hell will that be, that I haven't been on stage in 10 days and what if that's ok and what if this is not what I’m meant to do with my life, you know the usual negative self indulgent martyr bullshit that spins around over and over again like a barber sign in my brain. Then at the urging of a friend my cousin (the jappy one on the couch) and I made a profile for me on a popular dating website. I always thought I was too famous to be on one of those sites until I passed by a mirror, so japface and me hunkered down and tried to make a profile. 2 versions of my profile got "unapproved" by the site because I said dick and period. I dumbed it way down and now I sound like a Mcgirlfriend who "likes roller coasters and when eyes sparkle and I love to go out, but also indeed love to stay in too also!" uggghh. I also had to put up pictures that were like "fun, action, look at me I’m a nice girl who loves sunshine" shots which obviously I don't have. All my pictures are like me drunk with cleavage that looks like a butt on my chest at some east village gay bar without a ray of sunshine or a t cell in sight! I managed to crop and select pictures that make me look like somewhat of a day walker and posted them and have been getting flooded with losers. Then the cute ones I write back and like fuck it up somehow with my sense of humor, which is apparently a huge red flag because they never write back. I don't know; in dating being yourself can get you into trouble. I guess that's why most couples are so miserable. I honestly don't get what I do to eventually repel men, I honestly feel like a catch! Like I went on a few dates with this guy, he was telling me I want to invite you to my bday party and meet my friends, you're so cool, you're so funny, you're so beautiful and then…nothing. Huh? It's no big whoop because he was cool enough and very sexy and he didn't give me the sparks or the butterflies anyway but what the fuck? I hate to be a man hater but what's with the lying? Don't you know we'll fuck you anyway? You don't have to go on some rigmarole to make a girl feel special and like you like her and want to be next to her and have her babies and it's a complete bullshit lie! I HAPPEN TO LIKE DICK! I WILL BLOW YOU! YOU DON'T HAVE TO MAKE ME FEEL LIKE YOU LOVE ME TO DO IT! IF EVERY GUY I BLEW LOVED ME I'D HAVE MUCH BETTER JEWLRY! IT'S REALLY OK!  How can someone be so up your asshole one minute then just gone the next. It's not like this happens every so often, this has never not happened! Is it me? Am I a just a truck stop? What the fuck?

Anyway I’m doing this ridiculous match making website to manufacture dates based on what I look for on a superficial level and then be another comedian who does internet dating material! AWESOME!
If this blog is not incentive enough please come hear me talk shit at Gotham Comedy Club on Tuesday (Nov. 29th) at 8pm. Rich Vos, Michele Balan, Nick Cobb, Selena Coppock, Manuel Rondon and Miguel Dalmau are on it too and they are sincerely hilarious. The anxiety that promoting causes makes my anus tighter than an angry oyster! Please come out and laugh at me and loosen my anus!
Love you bunnies. Hope you had a wonderful thanksgiving. My cousin tells me the market is going back up. XOXO