Hungry Hungry Halloway

Like A Drifter I Was Born To Walk Alone

2012-01-25T09:37:00.000-08:00

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, Homeland...it'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 not...you 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!)

FEMALES IN COMEDY! What I Have To Say

2012-01-19T11:49:00.000-08:00

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)

I'm Pretty Much The Worst Person Ever

2012-01-13T10:00:00.000-08:00

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 projects...it 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 (http://righteouspk.podomatic.com/) 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!

Kisses!

The Years Are Like A Queef

2012-01-04T11:18:00.000-08:00

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 amazing...no 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 else...in 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?"

"Nope"

"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!!!

Thanks A lot Thanksgiving!

2011-11-28T08:26:00.000-08:00

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

Sugar Spice and Everything Irritating

2011-11-17T09:53:00.000-08:00

My life has become like the movie Groundhog Day with Bill Murray except I don’t set an alarm with Sonny and Cher, I don't do anything period, and my face doesn’t look like a melted candle. I wake up every morning at 9:11am (never forget) and pee (a towering inferno) then get back into bed and sleep till like 11ish try to make myself go to the gym, if I do or I don’t I always end up back in bed watching TV till like two then falling back asleep and then crawling out of bed to do a comedy show then crawling back in bed more TV more sleep. Then wake up again at 9:11am (never forget) and pee (a towering inferno) and so on and so on and so on YEESH! The daily grind! I’m exhausted! I don't know how you employed people do it! I will admit as much as my delusions of celebrity don’t permit me to say, I really do need to get a real job and I’m sure it'll help my depression. Like getting out of bed for a reason other than urination and delivery boys (don't get any ideas...the only Mexican in my bed is the take out container I keep under my pillow so I don't have to get up when I’m sleep eating rice and beans by the angry fist full) might be nice. I need to figure out what it is I am capable of doing other than snorting pills, having unprotected sex with losers, and doing physical comedy with extreme facial expression! Maybe dentistry? What I like to do is isolate myself and then wonder why I feel so isolated! In my pursuit of trying to make more friends I've realized that other girls are just not like me. Like for one thing I’m well groomed and ummm that’s what I spend my money on…that’s...normal! I’m very expensive and I’m very high maintenance. It would be dishonest to the thread of my being to have pimples and no nailpolish on. I get my nails done every week, my hair done twice a month (once for color and once for extensions. I enjoy a full bouncy blonde mane...see a lot of women don’t think about proportions. I am gigantic with gigantic boobs so I need a lot of hair to balance it out. Duh! It’s like physics…or something) go tanning couple times a month (not as much as I’d like, I’m trying to cut back...not because of skin cancer but because tanning is a little frivolous...I like to be golden and rosy everywhere and feel disgusting when I’m pasty and pale but a package is like 200 bucks and it's November and I’m always teetering on the edge of suicide so might as well be a ghost and see what that feels like...sometimes I jingle chains and howl just to practice and piss off the neighbors or the stranger in my bed!) then there's skin care, perfume, makeup which is a huge expense...I shat out Tammy Faye’s corpse this morning! Then there's clothes which lets face it, because of my fluctuating weight I wear the same thing every day, leggings and a low cut t shirt that is either dressed up with some diamond jewelry and big pageant hair and makeup or dressed down with a head band and chicken grease. The point is that I have a beauty regimen that I have had since I was very young and girls in New York, I’m discovering are pretty but crunchy. Most of my friends are either girls in high school that feared me so much they did and wore whatever I told them, or gay guys. Now I’m like making "girlfriends" and they roll out of bed put on chapstick and some secret (strong enough for a man, but ph balanced for a mannish woman) and keep it pushin! I'm not hating it's just different! And they look at me like I’m crazy! I've just always been super girly. Things like sports, news, voting, driving a car, paying for dinner have just never been subjects that interest me. My mom was the same way...she'd wake up at around 9:12 (she forgets) after my brother and I were off to school, have coffee and read vogue in her california king sized bed, usually wearing nothing but sheets (daddy was always hungry), then she’d start her morning toilette, do a little shopping or have lunch or whatever the fuck she did with her time, but by the time she was done it was time to pick us up from school looking REDICULOUS! My mom was always the hottest mom...she'd be wearing some skin tight skirt and jacket and always in heels and would wiggle and click around the school hallways in a cloud of Tresor perfume to pick us up. The other mothers hated her and I fucking loved it! In a lot of ways she's to blame for my “loosy goosey-ness” (that's what they call “loose girls” in the animal kingdom) it could also have something to do with my lifelong obsession with playboy magazine and the golden age of Hollywood which influenced my aspirations of not only being an actress but being glamorous, gorgeous and delicious at all times, which sounds like a lot of pressure but I know no different. Sounds sick but my mother taught me that to be feminine and to be "pretty" came along with responsibility. A woman’s power is in her sexuality not her head...well that’s not true, she taught me that giving head is very important. That is terrible parenting! How could that not fuck me over? In my family, the focus was on the male and the girls were there to take care of them and look good doing it. There is a huge part of me that wants to do that just from conditioning but forgetting all the superficiality, from my instinctual desire to be a mother. Yes that's right! Just cuz I’m the honkey tonk whisky swilling (my mother taught me how to be feminine) life of the party who is not necessarily the most responsible or stable member of society I do very badly want to have babies and confession time! That’s always been my number one dream before being an entertainer that touches the hearts and penises of millions! Being a mommy and a wifey is what I really want to accomplish in this life (I think i just felt all the male readers collective boners go down.) People who know me know I’ll take care of them, I’m very nurturing and supportive, I’ll feed them delicious home cooked food, they can trust me, that's why I have such a big warm bosom, for nuzzling and feeling safe so stop wasting all those perfectly good sperms all over it...DAD! (Too edgy? I won't open with it.) But I want to accomplish other things too and even though, despite my sort of vintage values that I grew up with (like always have something baking and never share needles with the poor) I do disagree that women are less than. I always was under the assumption we were all the same and just humans. The battle of the sexes to me is the same as the battle of races and religions it all comes down to: we're the same so chill. For instance I hate female comics who say they’re "female comics" we're all comedians don't try to put yourself in a category because you're not as good as the guys so you need to feel comfortable segregated in a category that is "taking over the comedy scene" the thing is women can be funnier than males they just aren't most of the time and women are out numbered, as far as headliners and television personalities, but women just need to go out on stage and make people cry laughing! Why does it have to be so "game changing" to be funny? This is the job description: make people laugh. If bodily fluids are evacuated in the process, gold star sugar tits! Anyway, relax ladies and would it KILL you to put on a little makeup!?

Just Call Me Jiggles Von Giggles

2011-11-11T09:57:00.001-08:00

Oh Jesus. Well, I can't stop fucking eating. What else is new? Food is my boyfriend. I left him for a while but he just crêpe’d back into my life (see what I did there? You see, the word I was going to use is crept but I’m referring to food so I made a pun using the word for the popular French thin pancake crêpe! See, this is why I’m getting paid 20 dollars a week people! Stardom!) He be lookin’ all cute and hot and smellin' all good! But he's triflin! Makes me pay for him and sometimes I get the whole thing down my throat and he just leaves the next day! Another relationship down the fucking toilet! I went to the gym 5 days last week and only one this week. I get sad and bored and just eat. Why did I think that this hunger for food would just go away? One of my blog readers sent me a letter awhile back concerned about my food addiction and that I should go to OA. To that I respond, I’m not fat enough, dear. And if I wanted to talk about myself in groups I’d become a comedian! I don't know. Hopefully I won't blow the fuck up...right now I’m at that stage where I got skinny enough initially so now it’s just going to all the right places. In the words of Young Leek (who is a rapper, not a soup green) "Come on Shorty shake that thing, just show me how you work that frame. Body of a diva shaped like a bottle up in the club looking like a model maybe America’s next? Shining like the diamonds up in my Rolex, WOAH!" I am just jiggling again which I can deal with. My trainer yesterday made me jump on a box 20 times in a row and I got really pissed and belligerent because every time I landed on the box I had jiggles running through my entire body like a bag of Jell-O sitting on top of a speaker with the bass turned all the way up! It wasn't comfortable, although the trainer and the old man on the elliptical seemed to be enjoying the earthquake. It hurt and I was uncomfortable and cursed him and the old man the fuck out. I might not be allowed back. My regular trainer, Frankie "Bag-a-Snack Wells," the hot gabagool, tore his Achilles tendon playing football (big rough and tumble tackle football playing daddy, FUCK ME!). So now I switched to a different trainer until he get's better. His name is Heyward and he’s a super-sweet nice black guy with adult braces and tattoos...like if Steve Urkel and 50-Cent had a baby. But he's tough! It hurts! He doesn’t sit around and laugh about all the broads he nailed that week or where to get the best fresh muzzarelle like Frankie "Bag-a-Snack Wells" does - where my strength training consists of a couple squats, a couple lunges, and hugs and cuddles. I get more of a work out on a Tuesday night during a 30 minute set on a milk crate in front of 8 people at Jake's HAHA Hacienda off Route 9 in Secaucus! Anyway who cares? I'll be fat and alone. All my girlfriends are getting boyfriends, one by one. It’s kind of alarming how some girls will manipulate a man into becoming their boyfriend. I’ve been watching this process recently with my friends. It’s like this intricate game playing these men like a marionette to get them into a committed relationship. I’ve never seen anything like it! Like step one don’t fuck them, step two don’t fuck them and most importantly step 3 don’t fuck them. What is this labyrinth of deception and manipulation!? Are you MAD, woman!? What is this unholy witchcraft!? You’re born of the jackal! I saw Goody Proctor walk with the devil (and she didn’t fuck him.) I guess I’m missing that part of the brain that plays the game to get a boyfriend in 10 days or less and have 2 year stepford relationships that are not based on real emotion or deep love and just “for the sake of it.” I’m not scared being alone I’ve lived my entire life alone, it’s comfortable. I don’t want to have someone walking around in their underwear farting and demanding blowjobs (i'll suck yo dick when i'm good and ready!) in my house touching my stuff sleeping in my bed just so I cannot be alone. Love should be uncomfortable and boat rocking (don’t bother knocking.) Anyway, all these ho’s have boyfriends now cause I guess it’s “a la mode” this season and the only reason to not be fat is to get consistently fucked in my book, and that’s not happening! The guy who I went out with whose card got declined and I paid for the dinner he was two hours late for then boned anyway asked me out on a date today. Yeah, high point for my self-esteem. Well he's been really persistent lately and I keep telling him no, no, no, no, no, giving him excuses like "I'm depressed" or "I'm actually dying…so yeah about that you should get yourself checked," but I guess depressed girls with phantom AIDS are his thing cuz he asked me to go see Louis C.K. with him tonight. UGH! The LAST thing I want to do is see that overrated bloated ginger dick...oh and I’m not in the mood to see Louis C.K. either. People think because I’m a comedian I actually enjoy comedy. No. In fact there's nothing I hate more. I find it painful and irritating. Like all I do is come up with jokes and entertain people, why would I want to see someone who is comparable or funnier than I am who is actually succeeding in making more than 300 dollars a year doing what I do? I'm sure an architect doesn’t spend his free time at construction sights...unless he's a homo with a hardhat fetish or something to which I say you do you, motha fucka! I fucking hate comedy. Whatever! I know I should be more positive and loving what I do. I was watching Food Network and some god-awful chef on there was like "I live to cook, I don't cook to live" Do I share that passion? I do LOVE communicating with an audience live...I hate making tapes and submitting myself in a package that is not organic to my brand of humor. I do not like being conformed to "material" I feel like I have braces on my legs when I can't improvise and riff bits (like Tiny Tim if he was played by a hybrid of Zsa Zsa Gabor and Chris Farley.) I do not like sitting down and writing, I like to make it up as I go along. It's not the performing that I hate, it's the business and the competition! Like comedians! Stop telling me backstage that you just did this or that or made this break in your career. Don't brag because I’m jealous! There I said it! Hearing about your success gives me HPV. And it's not a competition because what I do is like nothing no one else does and what they do is like nothing no one else does (if they're any good) so why don't I just do my shit, get the love and validation I need to get through the day from the audience, and leave and watch bad reality shows and eat chicken alone in my underwear? LEAVE ME ALONE (come back, where are you going!?)

THE HALLOWAY HALLOWEEN BLUES (AND BBQ JOINT)

2011-11-01T14:32:00.000-07:00

Depression has a way of making you fuck up your diet. Needed to take a week and cry and eat my brains out. I ended a friendship that meant a lot to me and feeling super sad and conflicted about it. It's amazing how a girl with so few real relationships can press delete so quickly. But sometimes you have to in order to move forward and be happy in the end. You can't walk right into danger where you'll probably get your heart hurt when you feel it coming you got to cut your losses and run the other way. Maybe if Nathalie Holloway followed that advice she wouldn't have had such a lame ass date on that boat. So yeah, watching 90's chick flicks and sitcoms, listening to 90's alt rock, (dressing and smelling like Kurt Kobain, eating like Ann Wilson) and writing 2000's alt comedian tweets. Went for like 4 days without showering only getting out of bed to do 10 minute sets at little bar shows and then crawled back into my bed full of take out containers and ketchup packets and watching Boys On The Side or a Frasier marathon. (Is there any problem that the hijinks of the pretentious Seattle highbrow therapist brothers and their kooky menagerie of sidekicks can't fix?) Oh, to be a tormented genius like I! I'm not at the stage where killing myself would make me more famous yet so I got to hold off on the trip to the roof and keep it pushin! I refuse to weigh myself but I think I gained something close to 10 pounds. Totally eating my feelings and ruining all my hard work but you know what sometimes you just need the comfort that only Hunan Palace can give. It's ok i'm back to the gym now and I got it under control [top panty hose.]

BOO FUCKING HOO people! Halloween, or as I like to call it Gay Pride with a different kind of candy, passed me by completely. I had big plans of dressing up cause of my new sexy body I was going to be "slutty something" but I dress up as "slutty something" and boo people everyday! Big whoop! I hate Halloween it's like amateur night. If I wanted to see a bunch of bros and skanks dressed like idiots getting shit faced and thinking they're ironic and hilarious I’d just go to the green room of any comedy club! (Making friends!!!!) If I was going to dress up I was going to be Beyonce with a miscarriage, like in a gold sequined leotard with a fan on me at all times with blood and slime dripping down my fishnets (booooo) but that idea came to me before the video of her fake baby bump leaked so then I was just thinking of stuffing a folded lawn chair in a dress and calling it a costume but eh...too much energy and no where to go. Past Halloween’s I’ve done good but I was always working. There was the year when I was a go-go dancer and I was Marilyn Monroe's partially decomposed corpse! I was completely buck naked (umm…cause she died in the nude clutching a telephone. I'm nothing if i'm not authentic!) and painted grayish blue with pills and pill bottles and maggots stuck to me, roaches and worms and crawling through my wig and decomposing flesh at the hip and the neck with an old fashioned telephone...it was pretty awesome. (If I had waited for last week, lying in bed for 5 days sobbing I wouldn't have needed the costume at all and i wouldn't have had to spend 2 days scrubbing blue paint off my snatch.) Then there was the year that I was a playboy bunny with her throat slit (because don't you just want to slit their fucking throats?) and then one year I was Peg Bundy which was pretty good and Josephine Baker where I was completely in black face naked again my entire body dipped in coco brown makeup with a banana skirt and tribal beads (ummm...josephine baker was always naked and she happened to be black. Authentic!) no one recognized me that year! I looked like lil Kim on horse vitamins! No black people were offended in the making of that costume, all I got were high fives and ignored by cab drivers. Don't be a pussy and be a slutty fireman or slutty bumble bee ladies, ditch the costume and just throw on suspenders and be a naked fireman or shove a stinger up your ass and be a naked bumble bee it's WAY more fun! What's the point of the extra fabric, you're leaving nothing to the imagination anyway! But I’m a respectable out of work actress and comedian now! I must stay in bbq stained sweats and feel sorry for myself on the holidays! SCRUPLES!

But like always, after my little temper tantrum and melt down I shifted. I decided to stop focusing on the lack of things in my life and began to focus on what I do have. A decent apartment for nyc standards, a couple of nutcase parents, 25 dollars in my checking account, LOADS of talent (It’s the loads in my face that I miss,) and an energy and presence that is like no one else’s. God put me here to do something and it's remarkable as soon as I made that click in my brain I booked a shit ton of shows and got two really big legitimate auditions this week! And instead of saying "I’m not going to get the part" or "I HAVE to get this part" like I usually do I’m going to say "I got the audition and it's going to be fun!" and just enjoy performing and spreading joy in my little way. You know as much as I hate human kind, I gotta admit we are all pretty awesome and the struggle, in my case has made for some very funny material. OPRAH FOR PRESIDENT!

Can Sluts Find Love?

2011-10-21T14:31:00.001-07:00

Rough week. I went out on Monday night and got hammered with some friends and bumped into this guy I boned when I was 18 outside the bar when I was smoking. (As one does on a Monday night…out of work comedian) He's absolutely beautiful, amazing bod, pillow lips, a dick that just won't quit but the dude is psychotic of course. Of course something so beautiful has to be so crazy and poor. Like Charles Manson…or Africa. I don't ever go for rich guys, usually I just go for ones who pay me the slightest bit of attention and that I feel deep connections with (in my cervix.) There’s something to be said for poor guys. If rich guys could fuck as good as poor one’s…I’d have a nickel. They make me feel like a big-breasted Italian peasant girl making love in a vat of grapes or something (careful, that batch of Chianti might have hepatitis.) I would love a rich husband and hope I can find one one day. I've already kind of resigned myself to living a loveless existence based on my track record, so I might as well live in a 18 bedroom mansion and ride private jets to my manicure appointments and enjoy a pill habit and plastic surgeons. Anyway, This dude used to stalk me. Used to make presents out of garbage and leave them at my door. He used to wait for me outside my work. He used to call me baby Monroe because I reminded him of a young modern version of Marilyn which was actually a nice compliment even though she was a bi polar mess, but I’ll take it. He made me a lamp out of paper mache once which was a pink triangle with the words baby Monroe written on it. I thought it was ridiculous, baby Monroe written on the Nazi symbol for homo? What ever happened to jewelry! Anyway somehow, I don't remember how, I got rid of him and moved on. Then 2 years ago I saw him again in a bar waiting in line for the bathroom. He grabbed me put his arms around my waist and pulled me into his throbbing manhood, planted a big wet kiss on me and said I’m never letting you go EVER! I was with my girlfriend and while he was in the bathroom we grabbed our coats and high tailed it out of there and ditched him. So cut to this past Monday I’m outside smoking and I see him, he looked GOOD. Tall, tanned, lazy and full of cum. Once again he wrapped his arms around me picked me up swung me around kissed me and told me he was "never letting me go again, I can't believe I'm seeing you! Do you understand bro" never trust a man who calls you bro, "we were meant to be together! The planets and stars are aligning! You don't bump into a person like this you are MINE and I am NEVER LETTING YOU GO!" I mean this is Manhattan, I see Pauly Shore twice a year on line for the bathroom! Not a big island! But I gotta be honest, I have been feeling exceedingly lonely lately and here is this man who is spinning me around and snuggling his head in my chest and holding me tight and professing his undying love for me just when I need it the most! I'd be lying if I told you the thought of accepting this man's proposal for an instant relationship didn't cross my mind. Then the night progresses, my gut is telling me this guy is psycho, remembering how he used to stalk and scare me and my friends left me to go do drugs and yank penises at another bar after I told them not to leave me alone with him. These are my friends. I really don't have any real ones. I guess I don't really know much about real relationships of any sort because I’ve had very few that haven't been completely superficial or drug induced, so the good news is that I don't ever really have expectations of people to take care of me, even though I always take care of them. I still almost always get hurt but heal fast. Anyway, long story short (too late) this lunatic drags me out of the bar drags me 3 blocks away tries to get me to take him home with me (oh he's homeless now by the way, "couch surfing" ...yeah) I told him there is no way I am letting him know where I live. He basically is attacking me on the street and not releasing me from his grip, right now I’m covered in bruises and scrapes, he broke TWO OF MY NAILS! (You can attack me but break my nails and it is ON!) no one helped me on the street I was screaming and crying and finally got myself into a cab and sped off. Yes! Welcome to Harriet's NYC! I'm sure you are all thinking, "but Harriet...you're so freakishly gigantic! How could it ever get physical?" Listen i may be big but i'm as weak as a cup of chamomile tea! Don't let the height fool you! I'm a kitten in a rottweiler costume! Anyway, this was a very intense start to a very intense week.

I'm not sure if I am able to get what it is I’m looking for or yearning for even if it seems to be dangling right in front of my face. Nothing is real! Obviously I’m too honest, I have been through enough shit that it scares "normal good men" away from me. I have slept with a lot of men. I have sex like a man, I am Samantha Jones. It sounds retarded but it's true. And what makes a slut? Religious oppression (no) Liquor (sure) Lack of boundaries (ok) Rape, molestation (ummm....like mama used to say, it’s not rape if he yells “surprise!” …oh calm down!). Whatever is the recipe, I really don't think of myself as a slut. In my circle of friends I’m a prude! Listen I have an appetite for men like most men have an appetite for women. I can't help it. They stir me! They're fucking beautiful! Why wouldn't someone want to devour them like pastries! YUM! If that makes me a slut then so be it, I think it's just a genuine and healthy way of living (if you use rubbers…oh you thought I meant condoms? No galoshes silly! condoms feel like shit!) You do what you want and act on instinct and fuck what people say. The thing is you are left alone. How can you do what you want, act on instinct, follow your heart and get all the love you pour into someone else, even if it's for that one night, back? Not from stalkers or fans or people who are light stealers? And ay, there’s the rub. Still navigating but with all my baggage and past and the fact that I am vocal about most of it, it seems that no one really can deal. It's always the mousy boring bitches that have the man, the protector. Well not always, there is Snooki. Snooki found love. If that midori sour soaked cum dumpster can find steady snake then I certainly can. So there you have it, I’m comparing myself to an orange turd. This is what my life’s come too! See why I HAVE to be famous? It's not like a choice really, it just has to happen! What other road is there? I’m gonna be happy. I make what most people would consider to be stupid decisions but they are my decisions and if I have to go through them by myself then that is just what I’m gonna do! I’m fine with that and know that I’m smart and wonderful enough and fuck everybody else (well I already did that!) You only get one life and I gotta live it the way I know how. Trick is I got to not let the past steal my present or navigate my demise! Shit that’s happened has NOTHING to do with what is going to happen! Don’t let the shaky hands and mascara dripping down my face fool you, I am NOT a mess! WHO WANTS A MIDORI SOUR!

Befores and Afters: The Life and Times

2011-10-13T14:18:00.000-07:00

Again a huge thank you to everyone who came out to support my show on Monday and a GIANT FUCK YOU TO ALL OF YOU WHO SAID YOU WERE COMING AND DIDN'T. GOD I HATE PROMOTING! JESUS FUCK! Just so I can guarantee myself an extra goddamned spot every month I have to whore myself to my friends and family exhaust my little fan base! I know it's tough to come out and support but don't say you will when you won't! Because that makes you a no good liar and you deserve to be blindfolded and shot like a colombian cocaine farmer who talks to much in Medellin ! Ok I feel better now that I’ve gotten that off my chest. Promoting is so lame and so anxiety producing and I’m sick! Not sure if it's psychosomatic but I feel like shit because I do things that make me feel like shit and doing things period makes me feel like shit because I’m a lazy shit so all I want to do is sit alone in my dark shitty hole (i should've said bedroom) and feel like shit by myself! Shit! So I drank some cough syrup and watched First Wives Club for probably the four thousandth time and feeling a little less like shit.

But things are picking up, kids! Calendar is filling up nicely (more unpaid work! awesome! I LOVE comedy!) and auditions auditions auditions (more close but no cigars.) One of these is going to hit I swear and with my positive winning attitude I’m sure it will (sorry it's hard to type and slit my wrists at the same time!)

Weight is kind of in a precarious place right now. I've been spending a lot of time alone again and being sick and feeling like shit (which we've established) physically so I haven't really been working out which lead to binging for the past two weeks. Well not bingeing....but eating gigantic portions of food that I shouldn't be eating...that sounds better. What's the goddamned difference, I think to myself, as my leg hair gets longer and courser and I wake up next to chicken carcasses. I have nothing and no one! But then I looked at a picture of me from a while back and remembered how fucking disgusting I was and felt and am happy to be smaller. You see when your born gigantic like I, the lighter you weigh the more "petite" is achievable or whatever is close to it. My shoulders are smaller and more delicate, my waist is tinier, I look like I can actually be lifted by a normal sized man instead of being mistaken for one. So that kind of scared me into putting down the fork (and by fork I mean fist full of mashed potatoes like a down syndrome toddler.) I'm doing well and on the right path so why do I always fall back into my bullshit patterns? Because I’m impatient and bored and a spoiled glutton. Like Louie VI but with bigger tits and less money. My shrink and I are working on "clearing out anger" so that the positive can manifest. She said I’ve already summoned what I want to the universe (fame and an 8 inch dick with a job...that's really it for me in the fulfillment department!) I just need to clear out my inner crap in order to receive it. Like a psychological colonic! I'm going to try by spitting hateful blogs, yelling at hecklers, working out and paying attention to my anger triggers...such as rejection, criticism, beautiful Asian women, other people’s successes... And then I’ll be famous and regularly fucked with a diamond on my finger in no time! THE SECRET!

This was the fatty pic i was talking about. Not my heaviest but shit! Look at bob Greenberg in the Maroon is hungry for it!
But now slimmer at gotham.

Or the famous bathing suit pics! Remember these?? Before and after fuckers! I gotta keep this shit up! BAM! Go ahead click on them to make them larger. I ain't shy! And yes, i have monogramed towels :)

Till next week little ones! XOXO

Wendy Williams Must Die

2011-10-05T14:11:00.000-07:00

Well it's been a helluva couple weeks. Humbling, annoying, and embarrassing. First of all, months ago, I was asked to present at the Paper Magazine Nightlife Awards! Yes where the "who’s who of who cares" gather annually to celebrate bacchanalia and what’s left of NYC’s dwindling “nightlife.” I have been featured in the past in paper magazine a few times as “A star on the rise” (nothing rising that quickly) and shit like that and they have been very kind fans of mine and I was totally excited to pretend I was presenting at the Oscars for one night. I had a dress made, I got a spray tan, I had homo come over to my home to do my hair, I had the shoes the jewels the bag the fur the whole 9. While I was in my Julia Roberts tizzy I got a phone call hours before the event started by the people at paper saying "sorry total oversight but there was a problem and we forgot to put you on the list of presenters but feel free to come and walk the red carpet and enjoy the event and we'll find somewhere for you to sit and enjoy the awards." There I am, covered in teriyaki tanning sauce, dipped in makeup like a chicken in flour and getting sewn into my skin tight dress now ready to rip it off pull down the blinds and eat chicken teriyaki in my sweatpants. So I threw a stink, said I had a dress made, I was all excited yada yada yada so they said basically, if a "somebody" doesn't show up, we'll have room for you "a nobody" to present. Wendy Williams was hosting and I met her and she said “GIRL THAT IS A DRESS AFTER MY OWN HEART!” and I said “HOW YER DERN WENDY! Will you take a picture with me?” and she said, I kid you not “mmmmm yeah, no thanks I’m good!” Which was pretty awesome getting rejected by the black version of me (check that off the list) Anyway, I ended up presenting with Paul Iacono, the actor from that show “The Hard Times of RJ Berger” and I did it and I knocked it out of the fucking park and was hilarious, obviously because I’m amazing which is what no body seems to realize (TOOOOT TOOOT!) Regardless of the initial humiliation and rejection of the evening, it was really nice to throw on a pretty dress (throw on! look at me, aren't I cute? get pulled and pinned into like chestnut stuffing in a Christmas goose...yeah I’m going with goose! I'm feeling Dickens-y today!) and get my picture taken and feel glamorous again. I used to be the party girl about town, trotting around in baby doe heels and wiggle dresses every night of the week, soaking up moonlight, snorting pretty things out of pretty things with pretty people, I had cocktails named after me (The Harriet Star: 1 part Vanilla Vodka, 3 parts champagne and 1 part bartender urine) I'd get pinched by rascally French men and raped in coat check closets (it's not rape if he yells "SUPRISE!") Now I’m typically in sweatpants eating 100-calorie snack packets or my "stand up comedy uniform" (head to toe exhilaration by target) and doing my thing. A quieter life, like a Quaker...if the Quaker was a huge slut who loves tequila and talks about camel toe on stage for free.

In other news! I went out with this guy (read last entry WHAT A DIFFERENCE A TAINT MAKES) if you didn't read it (I ain't mad) the short of it is that I picked him up at a bar and had a very fun weekend. Let's just say the Christmas goose wasn’t the only thing stuffed in this blog! The dude had such a wonderful time (not to toot my own cunt but I’m REALLY FUN in the sack, TOOOOOT…#notaqueef) he wanted to see me again but this time take me on a "proper date." So I said, ok. I had an 8pm show at Gotham, I’d be done around 9/9:30 ish and I’m gonna be hungry (All that audience murder really works up an appetite...TOOOT TOOOT) so let's get food and hang out. So he was supposed to pick me up, he was 2 hours late, it was pouring rain I told him to go fuck himself and I went home defeated after a perfectly good high from a good set at Gotham. Of course, I’m thinking to myself, why would anything go right for me with any man. I mean look at my track record...which is just a bunch a bukake. So I get a text while I’m slumped over heating up a bullshit 200-calorie lean cuisine. Then he's downstairs and wants to make it up to me. I agree, he takes me to a bistro across the street from my apartment and we wine and dine and I forgive him because I have low self esteem and I love wine and then the check comes and his face DROPS! The waiter comes back, his card got fucking declined so I had to pay for the whole thing! And then, get this! I FUCKED HIM ANYWAY! I figured, what's the difference I did it before and the least I can get out of this disaster of a night is some head! And I just can't resist a man...it's a sickness. They're just so beautiful with their shoulders and their arms and their smell and their mouths and their skin and their hair...GRRRRR. I know I’m vile! I cannot be stopped! I'm not sure if I am going to get into a relationship any time soon but I can tell you one thing, I am aware that this is not the way to go about it. I need to retrain myself to not jump on the first thing with pants that gives me attention! That's how I ended up waking up that time with KD Lang's toe in my mouth! I do want a relationship. I want to give my love to somebody really bad, I also want my big break so I can do my thing and get paid and get more attention from people wearing pants! It will all come. Right now everything is just out of arms reach. The things I want are dangling in front of me but I can't quite have them yet but I will soon. I hope. I think so. I have so much goddamned love to share and when I’m in that place of sharing love I’m at my happiest and beam light and that's where I want to stay. :)

So we continue little kiddies!

Please come to my show on Monday! I really need you there to SHARE MY LOVE WITH!

What a Difference A Taint Makes

2011-09-22T14:00:00.000-07:00

Finally my body is where I want it to be again. I've got issues still. Nothing ever is perfect but that's life. I feel like I’m TV ready which is nice. I've had some really awesome shows lately, which have gotten the old confidence back! Nothing like getting steady comedy club laughs after a string of bombing at bar shows with 4 audience members who half pay attention. But no show is perfect! Recently I had a show at Gotham comedy club, which I was taping because I need more tapes to send out to networks and late night shows to facilitate my pursuit of being some sort of comedy legend one day and something always goes wrong when I try to film a tape. Either someone’s phone rings, a waitress stands right in front of the camera, the sound is off, my heads chopped off…SOMETHING! So this show was pretty crazy because every other comic had a good set with the respect of the audience but of course as soon as I got up there, hoping for a good tape, a table starts talking during my set very loudly. Just having full on conversation! I don't know what it was about me that night that made them think they could fuck with me, maybe I was looking particularly petite and meek and white (which in normal circumstances would be a fantasy come true.) So I asked them in the middle of my set: "Alright, hold up excuse me but are you guys paying the bill or something or are you just being rude?" to which they replied "no we're just being rude!" That's when I blew like an adolescent on a penthouse magazine! I just started going off, seeing green like the incredible hulk! I didn’t even remember what I said because I was so overcome by the rage and blood coursing through me but it was HILARIOUS to everybody including said disrespectful table. I do remember one of the girls volunteered that she was Asian (I couldn’t see beyond the blinding stage lights) which, for anybody who has seen my act or knows me added fuel to the fire (I have a deep hatred of tiny Asian girls with tiny pussies who have hot white boyfriends, call me racist I really don't give a fuck it just pushes my buttons) anyway I lost it on her but she and her twenty something douche bag friends were eating it up and she and pretty much the rest of the audience and the comedians in the wings came up to me and said that I was "unbelievable!" and "Like nothing they’ve ever seen!” so that felt good at least. Must be the rush a Nazi feels when he's tossing Jews in the oven like Pillsbury crescent rolls. But this rant helped me! I've been doing well…on another bi-polar up swing perhaps because of it. Now I am reminded that I’m good at this! And I can continue preparing myself for shows and hyping myself up (a little process I like to call "Preparation H.")

More excitingly, since this shift I had marathon sex Friday Saturday and Sunday (with the SAME PERSON! I know this is a big step!!!) This dude I met with my personal trainer Frankie "bag a snack wells." Frankie and I have fun together in the gym and have become friends (my first actual platonic friendship with a man that I haven’t ended up drunk and blowing who isn't a 5'2" Jewish comic,) basically all we do is terrorize the other people working out there and the other people who work there, Frankie has a great comedic rhythm and keeps up with me while I’m doing squats and crunches, it's good stuff. Anyway Frankie "bag a snack wells" took me out to the bar, after the Gotham "table of douche bags and one Asian" show for a much needed drink (I was still full of adrenaline and covered in audience blood) and his friend was there, another trainer and what can I tell ya, one drink led to another, an exchange of glances, I may or may not have sat on his lap and gave him a dental check up with my tongue (I’m shy.) I went home with him and showed him why they call me "The Recliner" (soft, squishy and always someone in me) well now that I’m skinny I guess I should be called "The Bar Stool" either way I got some good much needed lovin and the sonovabitch wants to see me again so who the hell knows...we shall see. I feel happy, go figure! It's remarkable that when you shift the depression the phone starts ringing. Already I found out today I’m gonna be on TV (nothing major, you won't be seeing me at the 2012 Emmy’s but it'll be cute and I’ll tell you about it once I sign on the dotted line) and booking more shows everyday and feeling a little more hopeful about my auditions and writing more material. God I’m such a basket case! I'm up I’m down! I have an ego that is more fragile than Laura’s glass menagerie but as long as things get accomplished in the "up" times enough to hold me over for the next time I’m rotting here in a self indulgent catatonic depression then that's good enough for me :) Guess, at the end of the day I’m like an Irish potato farm, I’m depressing and full of weeds but all I need is a plowing and I’m good for business!

Patron Tequila Comforts Her from Industrial Britain

2011-09-13T11:08:00.000-07:00

Well apparently the years of partying have rendered me prudish. Not like prude "I wear panties with crotches" prudish...well kind of...my recent refusal to bone losers has left me with no other options then to be a prude which is such a snooze because I’m horny as a freshman! When sex actually involves blood sweat and tears you have to question whether it's worth it at the end of the day. I am a Victorian lady now! So anyway like I was saying...I've been binge drinking, as I always have, because I don't really know how not too. I think it was Dorothy Parker who said: “If you're going to drink isn't the point to get fucked up?” wait…maybe that wasn’t Dorothy Parker…maybe it was just some guy in a parking lot. But now, I think my time has come. The hangovers are too debilitating! I always drank like a fish but I used to bounce back after a lazy day of a hangover, which in retrospect was quite romantic (Victorian), compared to now! Sick in bed for at least 4 days! I can't breath, I can't see, I can't speak, it's like I have a liver or something! Could have something to do with the fact that I used to have a plate of cocaine in my purse at all times to balance out the alcohol...god, remember how fabulous it was having money???

So I went out on Friday night with some girls I went to high school with... we used to terrorize everybody..think heather's but with flatter hair and 50 year old boyfriends. One of the girls was in a bad way because she got drunk with her new fiancée (yeah I’m fucking thrilled for her) in Montauk over labor day weekend and decided to be a hero and got on a surf board and ended up slamming her face against the board and breaking a tooth! Still not sure if this was an excuse she made up after her fiancée punched her in her smug little engaged face or if that was just my fantasy, but regardless she had a bottle full of percocets with our name on them, because drinking is fun but like I always say, a bartender is just a pharmacist with a limited inventory! So after drinking since 3pm I suggested we break out a couple of those puppies out crush 'em up and snort 'em. As one does for the maximum effect! So we did for nostalgia's sake and it was a blast but I’m paying for it still 4 days later! Along with the hangover came hangover food because I have also got it in my head that I’m too skinny now! Maybe I have become so accustomed to the hourglass (that had all the sand stuck in the middle) but I miss my shake! I'm not happy no matter what. I'm too skinny, I’m too fat but I’m always too poor. I want to be skinny but with something to grab onto. Who will grab onto me is still to be determined. Seriously, it's like I shave my legs and my vageene and my asshole everyday in the shower for this "phantom boyfriend" who's going to touch me! It’s like setting a place for Elijah at the Seder table! Regardless, I've been working out like a mad woman and eating like a normal woman (well, not a normal American woman) for 10 months so I figured you know what! Fuck it! It's my FUCK YOU TO FASHION WEEK! I don't even remember what I ate because I was in a very dark, very cold room watching Woody Allen movies (I have a thing about Jews with inferiority complex's...wonder what that's about) but what was most memorable was the blueberry pancakes with REAL whipped cream, not the fat free shit I keep in my refrigerator for the occasional mid day whip it, I mean real cream from a cow's quivering wet udder... and slathered with butter and side of bacon. Now I feel kind of bloated and fat. It's funny I never regret sleeping with what's his name but I regret the pancakes! Maybe now that I’m able to be flipped around like a pancake I feel like I should be more respectful towards them? Anyway the hangover of death is subsiding. I went to the gym today and sweat out the bottle of tequila and percocets like a good little starlet and vowing to recognize that I can't be drinking like a 12 year old anymore! I'm a lady now! A proper chaste Victorian lady! With perfumed handkerchiefs and a bound corset, who is a delicate flower and sips her brandy and is completely ignorant of intellectual opinion! But who happens to tell dick jokes for a living.

Mean Red's and Gimme Some Head!

2011-09-06T11:36:00.000-07:00

So I’m pretty much at my goal weight (40 lbs gone y’all!) and I think the liposuction went a little deep because it feels like the funny has been just sucked out of me completely. It’s amazing how differently people treat you when your body changes. People are just nicer! Like instead of wanting to throw feces at me when I’m walking down the street people want to shit over me while hovering over a glass coffee table! See what I mean? Polite! Or instead of wanting to shake my hand they want to stick two fingers and a thumb in me like a bowling ball and throw me down a hallway into bed! And now I’m throwable! Before all I could hope for was a soft shove! It’s nice and it’s annoying. As a female comic I have always been on the sexy side, let’s be real. I mean I always had the Marilyn thing happening, can’t help it. Not being egotistical it’s true. I mean I was just genetically programmed to be utterly fabulous (with a great set of udders, THANK YOU DEMOINES I’LL BE HERE ALL WEEK!) All the women in my family were knockouts in their day. But not to worry if you see them now you’ll see that I will one day turn into Ethel Merman. Wide assed brassy Jew broad who wears sequined sweaters with too much makeup, too much jewelry, and too much perfume, and hair that stays in place in winds up to 80 mph who never stops consuming or complaining and has a larger variety of antacids in her purse then a Walgreens shipping center. (I can’t wait!) Anyway, now all I do is work out, eat calorie free styrofoam at home alone like a dog because restaurants are off limits because you don’t even know how much oil, salt, butter or fat is injected into what seems like a guilt free menu item. So the secret to weight loss? Don’t enjoy anything! Got it? Ok!

My career has still been slow as fuck. The thing is I’m an Aries with an Aries rising and I have no fucking patience and am spoiled and angry. Plus I’m lonely and lost any fire in my belly or motivation towards comedy along the way. Pretty much the entire month of august and this lovely Labor Day weekend has been among the darkest depressions I’ve had in my life thus far with one difference. I have not been bingeing on heroin, cocaine, alcohol, pies (pizza and/or fruit,) cakes, fried everything, chips, dips, bread, cheese, candy, and ice cream with a mayonnaise chaser. Instead I’m going and sweating out my rage at show business and men (all there is in life apparently) at the gym on a pitiful little elliptical that is on its last legs from my violent exercise attacks I AM HELGA THE UNMOVABLE MOUNTAIN AAAAAGGGGG!!!! This is a good thing that I have not fallen off the wagon with all my addictions however it's not fully good news cause I have been drinking a lot and chain-smoking like Lucille ball at a friars club roast. So what the fuck is my problem? The only way I can put it is that I have these voices and demons that live within me that I have gotten pretty good at keeping quiet and docile, but these days have been reaching and sinking their black fingers (they're Caucasian, just dirty and covered in soot) into me and clawing up through my heart and my brain. They have the belief that I’m dirty and tainted and separate from all other human beings that I’m disgusting and sick and not worthy. I think everyone has a degree of these demons but they are a voice we can choose to listen too or not but sometimes they are so loud you have a harder time tuning them out. Also when listening to these voices the voices of others who aren’t necessarily positive seem the loudest too. Like some skinny white boy dime a dozen douche bag comedian who no one knows but will probably get famous before me just because he's white, funny, dorky and "relatable"(which is the main recipe in the Comedy Central cookbook of generic comedy) told me that he saw me at Caroline’s and said "you seemed really drunk on stage..." which I wasn't and anyone who knows me knows that I just act like a retard sober, then he went on to say "you were ok, you did too much crowd work I didn’t see enough of your material" meaning I improv'ed too much with the crowd, to which I responded "um sorry I didn’t realize I was auditioning" and he said "well you were auditioning for my first impression, which wasn't good and what material you did do was weak but I could see you have the potential within you to be actually funny." Now it was this kid's birthday so, as the class act that I am, I kind of just smiled said happy birthday and left biting my tongue and also left his miserable name that his slut mother gave him out of this blog. The old Harriet would've probably sent him to the hospital (I had a jwoww period in my youth) but the thing is, I realized why it burned so much was because he was kind of right. I did not have a good set that night (granted no one really did cause it was a Monday 10pm crowd which is not the most desirable spot to have, but only a chump blames their set on the audience which is exactly what I just did) I remember my crowd work did well and my material fell flat. Recently I am feeling like a complete failure as a comic (black demon fingers). Because of the lack of gigs (and open mics don’t count) I haven’t been feeling funny, that I’m coming up with anything new or anything that anyone would care about. That my act has become hokey and predictable and the worst part is that I don't really have any desire or care to write anything new or really get on stage ever again. If I’m not getting paid then it has to be fun and it's not fun at all anymore, it's fucking soul sucking and boring. But I know this is a phase. I know I’m good cause of the fan base I’ve built over the years (hopefully not just from being ‘sexy’) I’m talented and I was born to perform I’m just not feeling it right now! The passion has left! Perhaps it's the demon fingers, or maybe it's the constant focus on my diet and body that is distracting me, or the lack of any love life ever and the always being alone all the time always, or the fact that I have 30 dollars to my name! I know people have it so much worse and are struggling to eat and live and strive towards a dream on top of it and I’m sitting here unemployed and miserable in my gilded bird cage and I just stopped trying like a spoiled cunt. The world is crumbling around us with back-to-back earthquakes and hurricanes that granted have been pretty gay, but here I am focusing so much on my ego when there are real things happening around my bubble of self loathing and 35 calorie cheese wedges. I am grateful for what I do have like my family and my friends (that I can count on one shop teachers hand) I just have what Truman Capote called "the mean reds." Don't anybody pull a Cher on me and say, "snap out of it" because you might lose a finger like a shop teacher. I am coming out of it though and starting to think about what projects I can create for myself while my blank calendar stares me in the face. I will succeed and be the star I was born to be I think I need to take these voices into consideration and heal them instead of suppressing or avoiding them so the next time they’re not so debilitating.

It’s gonna be ok! The famous Halloway resilience folks! Good stuff on the horizon which I’m excited for. Comedy can suck my dick.

Keep Pushing (So someone will push it in me) by Celine Dion feat Lil Kim

2011-08-24T14:07:00.001-07:00

Weighed in this month and lost 6 more lbs! Which is good cause I’m losing one to two lbs a week instead of 10 a week when I was popping laxatives like candy or gaining 20 a week when I was popping candy like laxatives. You know what that's called folks! PROGRESS! Also means that I didn't jiggle as much during yesterday's earthquake although I still got the jiggles just now it's my tits and ass and not my stomach and rocky the squirrel underarm wings! That earthquake was bullshit, stood in front of a plate glass window in hopes it would take me because I LAUGH IN THE FACE OF DANGER! I DRINK SKIM MILK THAT'S PAST IT'S EXPIRATION DATE AND SCREAM MACBETH BACKSTAGE AT THEATERS! HA! YES! POWER ENGOURGES MY CLITORIATYY!!!!!! But seriously the earthquake felt in NY was pretty scary, mostly because it made me remember how long it's been since I’ve had an orgasm. (sigh) Last time I had sex was like in the beginning of June with a waiter from La Luncheonette named Dain or Cain or...god who even knows...i remember it rhymed with crippling pain. I was having dinner with my mom and my brother, which causes me extreme anxiety and desire to rebel so I drank 3 bottles of rosé and aggressively flirted with the waiter and left my number in the check envelope. Needless to say no orgasm. And I’m pretty orgasmic. Usually if I sit over the wheel on the bus I need a cigarette after. This asshole bruised my left boob and never called me again. Then I remember I texted him "you bruised my boob" thinking he'd be like "LOL sorry sexy" or "yeah something to remember me by, till next time" but nothing. That's alright...Just do me a favor people and next time you go to La Luncheonette on 10th avenue tip the tall cute ginger waiter with a sars envelope. That'd be great thanks.

But I’m proud of myself! Well not of that story, but of the 6 lbs! I've been working out doing a minimum of 40 minutes of cardio 6 days a week and have my big gumba trainer (that I can't afford) Frankie, or as I like to call him Frankie "Bag a Snack wells" kick my ass with weights and strength training. Plus counting calories and being conscious of what goes in my mouth, like instead of going to a restaurant and putting bread in my mouth I just put the waiter! ZING-OOO!

So that's going well. Also made a promise to myself that that's the last asshole I’m gonna fuck. Enough! I mean I am aware that I am amazing, extremely talented, hilarious, a fucking blast, and easy on the eyes (and easy) so why am I not dating the crème de la crème? I always said it's because there is no such thing as the crème de la crème. Men are just womanizing by nature and see me, and every woman like me, the kinda gal who enjoys a case of cutty sarks and a showtune as a conquest and use me and throw me away like a tissue cause that's just how it is in New York. Which is true for a lot of guys but it's a confidence thing. Knowing what I deserve. I suppose apart of me always thought I deserved to be tatty bruised and deleted from phones because I really don't love myself when push comes to shove. Even I think I’m a bit ridiculous as a whole, but know that I can't help it. I also realize that if I loved myself I’d be such a fucking snooze. UGH! Look at Harriet Loving Herself.. muah muah muah kissy kissy kissy! HEY HARRIET WHY DONTCHU JUST FUCKIN MARRY YOURSELF, FAG!” That’s gross. People who love themsleves should be blindfolded and shot as far as i'm concerned! There is no one I would like to hang out with less than someone who loves themselves! Ugh! Would I be a comedian even? A self-loathing, wailing, make a retard out of myself, comedian? Would I have done so many drugs and been in so many precarious situations and cried on the bathroom floor of CBGB's covered in rock star cum if I loved myself? Who would have those priceless stories? Just Drew Barrymore and Andy Dick? NO THANK YOU! I am regretless! But, it's time to grow up and take a shower (preferably golden...I mean SOAP! ...sorry old habits) and take charge. Taking charge of my life, heart, body and career. This past summer I have been so run down by the show business. Between the abortions of auditions and the string of shows that have no pay and no audience, after working the road and getting paid consistently almost every weekend for a full year has been a lot to handle. I have struggled a lot when I was a child/teenager/up until now and more struggle and rejection makes me really upset and brings the violent emotions of the past up again. I hate not knowing what the fuck is going to come of this shit. Losing my faith and passion for what I once loved along the way. You think I want to get up on stage in front of a bunch of comics and drunken trash who text and talk and slobber over nachos while I’m tap dancing like a fucking monkey every night for free!? Or walk in and have my fate determined by some 23 year old casting director bitch who hates actors more than I do with crest white strips and a stack of god awful scripts on her desk telling me to "go online and look for parts" GO ONLINE!? WHY AM I HERE YOU DISGUSTING HUMAN BEING! LET ME TRY! SEE ME! SEEEEE MEEEEEEE!!!!! It's such a horrible business and I would never let my child do this (once again blaming my parents for everything). It is why so many talented artists do heroin and kill themselves. This business is the business of enduring bullshit (usually in isolation because all you have is yourself and what you believe is talent) and enduring bullshit is painful! No wonder I ate so much fucking cake! But dealing with these emotions, with the help of very talented doctors, is all I can do to keep climbing and pushing and tearing through layers of bullshit to get to where I want to be. Sometimes I allow myself like a day to be a brat and kick and stomp my feet but then it’s all-star time. It may take a year it may take 4, or 5 but mark my words, little kiddies I will make a living croaking these ball yanking, cheese ball, vomit inducing jokes into a microphone! So haters beware and lovers prepare! But seriously…5 years is really all I have left in me though. If it's more than 5 years I’m marrying an 80-year-old millionaire and going down the Anna Nicole toilet. FLUSH! THANK YOU VERY MUCH AND GOODNIGHT!

On the Road to Celebrity Rehab!

2011-08-17T12:11:00.000-07:00

Summers almost over, thank god because I’m sick of sucking in my stomach and not wearing control top panty hose and sweating like a Saudi snatch! I've been doing a lot of mics and stuff and letting my career be guided by other comedians who think that this is what I should be doing and this is what I should be doing and this is what I should be doing. You know what I shouldn't be doing is taking advice and critiques from comedians who still suck on fucking pacifiers and think that I am on or below their level when I have done hours of comedy in rooms they could only dream of! (And yes, I mean room 409 at the Best Western in Flint Michigan…I’m not allowed back in Flint Michigan...NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!)

My auditions have been kinda cool because they are for big things...not extra work and student films, but for major networks and films and sitcoms and shit but it doesn’t matter because auditioning is such a terrible and annoying experience. You sit in a waiting room that feels like a house of mirrors cause there are 25 girls who look exactly like you (but normal sized), then you walk in smile and kibitz and explain that "yes sorry…I know my headshot looks like I’m a blonde ingénue but as you can see I’m a 6 foot tall ball buster with a voice like a black tranny named Tyrona ...(shrug shoulders and smile) GOD'S BAD!" and then go into your sides (short script that you read with a casting directors assistant who thinks they are a better actor than you) Then I read it, sometimes they throw you an adjustment and make you read it again or look over your resume with you and see what you do what you've been up to and this is almost more important than nailing the reading of the sides. If you can establish a relationship with these people you're gold. This is where I usually fuck the whole thing up and spin myself into a web of lies and destruction. It's like I’m a heroin addict seeking oblivion with layers upon layers of bullshit! Imagine 3 times a week of realizing you are the biggest moron on the face of the planet! Really takes one down a peg! Like I had an audition for this girl, side note, almost every single casting director is either a girl or a gay guy like if you ever notice movie credits it's always like CASTING DIRECTOR: GLORIA SHEINBAUM or RACHEL BRISKET-GUTTMAN or SHANA SHECKLES SHINKLESTIEN FACE and then the occasional GERALD-LLOYD- DE LA TWINKLETOES or something... Anyway, I had this audition for a movie that's coming out soon with Annette Benning and Kristin Wiig, two ladies I would die to work with so of course I was nervous and when I’m nervous I babble like Ralph Kramden in a whore house! So I go in and read and she's like "wow that was perfect! That was really terrific, Harriet thank you! Why don’t you tell me a little bit more about yourself" and then I slip into the vortex "Well you know, (clearing throat and coughing for about 2 minutes) Exuse me, swallowed saliva down the wrong pipe I guess, um…where was I!? Oh well, I’m a stand up comic for a living so I haven’t really done anything new on my resume which is why I’m here I guess HAHAHA so yeah that'd be really great if you gave me the part HAHAHA. Oh and yeah well I just filmed a commercial for ummm...(scrambling scrambling..uhhh glance at the outlet on the wall) for Glades Plug Ins. Yeah... that's the ticket...Glades Plug Ins! I played a young Scandinavian Viking mom who loves smoking her own Kippurs indoors for her family but hates the smell and she's all disgruntled and then a light bulb goes off over her head and she's all "YA! Youshk know whatsh would make for neutralizes kippur odor ya? Tahitian Vanillashk Breeze" so anyway yeah that was a lot of fun and should be coming out really soon and what else? Oh yeah well, I have my own hour comedy special happening on HBO so that should be really awesome, yeah i'm really blowing up and just preparing for that and anyway how much does this gig pay sexy? I dunno you seem like a pretty cool chick Margot Stuffed Derma-Shlucccchhhhenstien you wanna maybe like I dunno like go grab a beer after this or somethin? That's a really cute top by the way! Oh it's Prada? Yeah I fuckin rock Prada all the time cause I’m super awesome and successful and shit and would really be an asset to your film." I'm such a supreme asshole! And if that wasn’t bad enough I wrote a follow up email apologizing! Yeah this is how you go places people. And I’m complaining on getting advice from comedians who've been performing consistently and improving on a daily basis for 3 years and I’m creeping on 8 years in and have been doing many of the same jokes I did when I debuted and mostly sit at home watching episodes of Dateline so I can collect ideas on how to plot the rape and murder of the comedians who are half as talented as me and are going to make it before me while I eat 100 calorie packs of real people food or 0 calorie non fat synthetic baby shit string cheese in my underwear SO I CAN BE ACCEPTED INTO SOCIETY AS A FUCKING PERSON WITH VALUE and not being able to keep my trap shut or tell any iota of truth in an audition or job interview!

So what am I doing? I'm eating shit (literally and figuratively) and taking advice. I'm continuing to audition in hopes that some person will find my babbling charming and adorable and cast me as "giant slutty best friend," or "WNBA player with a past" in some made for TV movie. Continuing to write and then trying said jokes at open mics in a room full of 45 unfunny chubby dudes with beards who tell the same fart joke, and writing this blog once a week instead of like twice a year or whenever I can muster up enough strength to write about my shitty life for 15 minutes. So stay tuned and wish me luck!

HUGS!

Frankel my dear, I don't give a damn!

2011-07-21T10:02:00.000-07:00

Hello again! Thought I’d resume the bloggy blog. Consistency isn't my forte but I’m gonna try and write more consistently which is repetitive but consistent in writing the word consistent.

It's just retarded cause it's all the same shit folks! Nothing has changed in my life since March when I last wrote an entry. 4 months of nothing to talk about. Yes I’ve been yo-yoing as usual, trying to maintain some sort of happiness, auditioning, doing shows, and having shitty sex with total losers (not that there was shit involved! only that one summer in Berlin but i needed the money) but it's all so uninteresting and monotonous because there is no momentum! I'm reading Bethenny Frankel's new book because I have an aversion to stimulating my mind in any way with anything other than uppers, but dude she's made it all happen! Kid, huz, Forbes 500 list in what seemed like an instant. So I’m interested in people who manifest things and are successful because I want to be that person. I want to have a big warm house and maybe a couple maids and a couple rocks (diamonds, not crack) a nice well stocked closet (with clothes not curious men with nipple clamps under sweater vests) a man who I worship and who worships me, awesome friends who I love and are nice to me, the cutest and coolest little babies anyone has ever seen that I can shmush and squeeze and love and they fall asleep with their little heads in my lap before their daddy sticks his "little head" in my "lap!" I can have that...if that mousy nasal Bethenny Frankel can do it why the hell can't I!? I’m 1/2 way through her book and can't put it down! It's like Tropic of Cancer except without the tropic! Some of the things she talks about is breaking ties with your past and your baggage and not letting it ruin you or make you repeat patterns, she talks about being true to yourself and following your gut instincts, and acting on them. That's where I’m at now. Acting on it. Hard. I do to an extent but I need to be more enthusiastically going for my goals and the only thing that prevents me from "acting" on it is fear. Fear that I'll waste my time, fear that I'll be ridiculed and called names, that I’m not funny, that people will not like me for being me...sounds like bullshit cause it is. I guess what I've been doing these four months is trying to find my soul and let myself be guided by that instead of my ego. Also been getting up early, working out every day and trying to be healthy and feel good and not feed my addictions which is such a bore but I allow myself the occasional bender just to keep my chops, oil the old wheels if you will. But I’m still shrinking...I have more to go. Recently, like a homosexual gym rat narcissist, I put half naked pictures of myself on facebook to get some opinions. So far everyone's is "YOWZA!" but I still feel like I’m about 15-18 pounds away from being a 10 (not a size 10 but on a scale of 1-10 hotness). Which is what every girl really wants in life. So disgusting how our society makes a woman feel if she isn't a 10 she's not valid or worthy of anything or seen. I'm always seen but that's because I’m a 6 foot something ferocious peroxide soaked beast woman clawing her way down third avenue everyday...kinda hard to miss. I can honestly say I’m not torturing myself to lose weight this time. And before you think I’m insecure and superficial, let it be known that I like the curves and the lumps and bumps and humps (except this goiter I could do without) but I’m eating normal and working out. My goal weight is not a number but to have a guy pick me up in the air…maaaybe weigh less than a football player, I dunno. I have been weighing in once a month instead of daily or weekly and feeling and looking good. Number is still higher than I want it to be but I’m not focusing on numbers, I’m focusing on how I feel and of course the gospel of Bethenny Frankel. Here are the pictures plus one slut one I took in a leopard g-string on my i-photos. Please aim your semen away from the screen, damaged computers are in no way the responsibility of the writer or publisher of this blog.

Birthday Party

2011-03-23T16:03:00.000-07:00

Aaahhhh back in NYC the land of missed opportunity, where the streets are paved with old.

I lost 30 lbs! On top of the lipo, or combined with which is nice. The bod is lookin good fellas, the bod is lookin good! My stomach is flat, my ass is nice and high and big still. I got that black girl ass, but my credit is good so COME ‘N GET IT! It's hard to navigate though because ok...do we just lose weight for men? I know there's women who say they don't and then spit tabacee and burn their bra's, but I'm not sure...I can, however, relate to the great Dolly Parton when she said in her light as air Tennessee twang: "I was the first woman to burn my bra - it took the fire department four days to put it out!" All I know is I feel a hell of a lot happier, but the male attention is hard to ignore! I've been like dating, and usually a date to me is a number 6 value meal and a taxi cab bj, but this time it's like drinks, or dinners in real restaurants, and conversation! And I don't have to pay! It's disorienting. People are still freak shows though…

I went out with this dude who I fucked like two years ago. It was fun but I never saw him again cause he had Hitler pubes and I was over it...meaning he shaved his pubes into a tiny Hitler mustache right on top of his dick. Uhhhhhyeah...that’s a deal breaker...Is that a dick or a giant labia, Jenna Jameson? Holy kamoly! But you know what we always stayed in touch on the phone and stuff so we built a good friendship basis, which is cool, OH and we have the same birthday, which is crazy astrological TNT. Anyway I get back from LA, actually I had some gigs in Boston so I got back from Boston and he invites me over to his apt (remember when I said guys are taking me out for dinner and drinks, yeah...baby steps) and I went cause I figured we already boned what's the big deal. I walk in and he's got like nude portraits of women all over his apartment, which was a little precious, and he takes me over to a bulletin board in his office with all the girls he's fucked on it and he was like "look baby you're picture's in the middle" Come on people! That's a little serial killer...I mean!!! I made the pussy board! Round of applause! So whatever, I laugh it off, we have a couple drinks, smoke some trees, and I’m like falling asleep cuz I’ve been traveling for 48 hours so he's like, "Baby why don't you just stay here and sleep I want you to feel comfortable here" So I said ok cuz I was all the way in Brooklyn and tired as hell and his bed was actually comfortable enough (I happen to have really high mattress, and thread count standards, my other standards are questionable but mind your business!) so I’m falling asleep and moan "I'm sorry I’m totally a wet sandwich falling asleep while you want to party and hang out, I feel bad" and he goes "Oh it's alright baby, you go to sleep, I’ll just jerk off to porn on the computer for a couple hours!" Ummmm! I sat up and I yelped "You have a naked woman sleeping in your bed right now and you're gonna jerk off to other women two feet away from me, WHILE I'M SLEEPING cause I won't put out! Doesn't that sound creepy to you?"

"Well when you put it like that it does sound a little creepy," he said "But, I'm not going to like jerk off on you!”

"Well at least then I’d be involved!"

Anyway, I got dressed and got the hell out of there. I can't with the sex addicts; they’re just such a nuisance.

But, things are cool with him and me, but I think it’s probably better to just be friends and I can get him some tail to feed that aching hunger and fill up that bulletin board. The other dudes are cool. One in particular I’m kinda crushin on...I mean we'll see.

I do really miss LA. I miss seeing a horizon when I look out my window and not the naked fat couple across the alleyway (my parents live across the street, everybody loves raymond style) Not sure where I need to be right now.

Tomorrow is me and Hitler dicks birthday! I'm having a big show at 8pm at Gotham Comedy Club I really really think you should come if you are in the area...then we can have a cocktail or 50!

XOXO

Mercedes Benz, Botox, Harriet Halloway

2011-02-07T15:49:00.000-08:00

All right well here I am in Los Angeles.

Here for a whole month! Never been away from home this long...other than when I was in that Singapore prison for smuggling 30 kilos of heroin in my vagina. Got some auditions for pilot season and trying to stamp a little more HH on the west coast comedy scene again. West coast audiences are different though...they're very "come on chump, make me laugh" with their 5 o'clock shadow's and leather jackets and aviator sunglasses and "look at me attitude" well guess what douche lord! I'm on stage now, so it's time to look at ME!

It's like day 4 here although it feels like i've been here a month already. Haven't gotten shit accomplished yet unless if you consider smoking medical marijuana all day long and piling on makeup an accomplishment. You know me by now though , I put tons of pressure on myself! So, I’m trying to take in the "LA way" and relax a bit, but I never realized what a cunt bag new yorker I was until I got here! I get really impatient here. People don't move fast enough, or don't care about things... Like I walked into a manicure parlor the other day to get my nails done because my thumbnail broke and it needed to be fixed, lest I walk around looking like a midwestern checkout girl with acne and missing acrylics. So I said to the Koreans can you fix my nail please and give me a polish change, and they were like "I don't know, maybe in half owa, I don't know how to doo" I was like "well didn’t you go to acrylic nail school? Did you miss the day they taught everything? What, if i may ask, is the point of you?" "oohhh I don't knoooww" then I closed my eyes and tried to mentally make my blood pressure go down and feigned a smile and politely asked "do you have ballet slippers?" Now for you heterosexual males who read my blog (all 2 of you) Ballet slippers is probably the most common universal nail polish color in history. Everybody has it or has had it one time or another; it's like the VD of the beauty parlors. So I asked her for the color, which I knew she had, and she said she didn't know! GRRRRRR! So should I just stand here and wait till you do know? Or just sit down and take a crap in the middle of the floor with my busted nails? Basically the story ends with me screaming RETARD in a crowded LA salon and storming out. In NY things just move faster, people respond when you ask them a yes or no question, they get out of your way if you nudge them with a sharp stick. Here, it's very slow and easy, you poke someone here with a sharp stick and they'll think they're being exfoliated and say thank you! That shit just doesn't fly with me. There are pros to go with the cons though. Despite the throngs of superficial snail paced monsters there are a few good people here, and the good ones stick out like sore thumbs so they're not that hard to locate so that's good at least. The weather here is amazing. I love being surrounded by mountains and palm trees and fresh air instead of slush and concrete like in NYC, it's good for my soul. The big mountains the wide sky it all makes me feel so...petite! Like a tiny wispy slutty bashful asian girl (who's obedient and would KNOW HOW TO FIX A FUCKING NAIL IF YOU ASKED HER! ...deep breaths)

I definitely feel like I’m starting from square one here and I’m a little out of my comfort zone, on the east coast I got fans and a good thing going, here I’m just another big titted blonde... so I of course have immediately turned to the vices. Booze, food (so much food), sex, drugs, and cigarettes.... yeah, I full on started smoking again as soon as I got off the plane. Also the eating, you know how it is...except now that I had my fat cells in my stomach sucked out, now the fat goes directly to my face and upper arms so I look all puffed up like a...like a....um...well, Mariah Carey.

Trying to adjust and feel good and get my happy back because misery helps stand up but it ruins auditions.

I'm gonna rock it out though, I always give myself shit then get good results in the end so I’m not worried. THE TIME IS NOW!

Love you monkeys

Well, I SUCKED!

2011-01-21T08:25:00.000-08:00

Alright so I got liposuction...

I did it swear to god! But instead of pretending I didn’t and taking 'after' pictures in a pink bikini and saying "it was portion control" I'm gonna be a woman, stand up with my back straight and LET THE FAT OUTTA THE BAG: I HAD LIPOSUCTION!

It's just something I really wanted to do for myself for years and years and even at my skinniest I always had a champagne belly (I hate beer) so I figured, the calendar is open at the moment (I have like no bookings) and it's cold out so that'll help swelling...so why the fuck not!

Also I was getting to a point where I was digging my body again just not certain parts...so I took em out! Anyway why do I have to rationalize it? Don't really care what anybody thinks, I did it, it hurt, now it doesn’t, and my stomach is flat for the first time in my life so ROCK N ROLL!

It was pretty painful though...Like the first 3 days were...ooof brutal. But like a week in bed vs. a lifetime of dieting and emotional and physical rollercoaster’s?...uh I’ll take the week in bed, thanks.

They did my entire stomach, upper and lower, my upper back and lower back (so no more unsightly bra bulge and he explained by "scooping out" (I know it's so Heidi Montag I love it!) my lower back that it would make my ass seem more prominent and therefore even more remarkable and arresting...yeah that's right, you have the right to remain silent, my ass is in the room.) they also did my hips and my sides so it was pretty much my entire torso 360 that was invaded by this magical vacuum cleaner. It's a new kind of lipo where they go in with a large heated needle and the heat melts the fat and draws it out in sheets. Isn't that amazing! So it's not as invasive and crazy as normal liposuction where they fist fuck you with a tube till your fat breaks up and then they suck it out (if I had a nickel...)

So you're probably thinking I’m following in the footsteps of female comics like Joan Rivers, Phyllis Diller, Roseanne and good old Kathy Griffin with the plastic surgery nuttiness but I assure you, it ends here, cause that shit hurt and was pretty intense. I kind of talked myself into it being like "oh whatever how bad can it be" but it is pretty traumatic what your body goes through even if you're asleep, it reminds me of when I lost my virginity and I woke up and screamed "get off me dad you're crushing my smokes!" I don't want anymore but I got to admit I can see how gals get the bug, it's like getting a tattoo, you get one and then next thing you know you have 3 ying yang’s, you're ex boyfriends name and a Chinese character that means "most ancient mystical specialfull tender beauty turd" on your forearm. But the last thing I need is a plastic surgery addiction added to the list of all the others. And come on, I’m an [out of work] actress; this is my [not making any] moneymaker people! You don't just toy with that!

So that's that...I feel good and am on the mend. It's amazing every day the swelling goes down I shrink more and more. It's fabulous! From this potato doctor created: woman! During my recovery I am eating well and being healthy, I am loving being a non smoker it's fabulous, and I’m planning my next steps folks! New year, new bod...nothing can stop me now! And if you don't like it, then a-go fuck yaself good sir! (she says as she tips her hat, adjusts her monocle, and bows low and slow)

Goodbye 2010...Hello Tall Dark and Hung???

2010-12-31T09:16:00.000-08:00

Well ok it’s the last day of 2010 and I am on day 3 of a juice fast! Yes that’s right! I haven't eaten anything for 3 days just juices and tea. I'm peeing every 2 minutes like an asshole...actually like a pee hole!

I decided to bring in 2011 without a hangover and instead with crippling hunger...Some of you may already know this, but my mom owns a yoga and fasting retreat on the east end of long island. She guides women and [femmy] men through fasting everyday, she wrote a book on it yada yada yada (THIS ISN'T ABOUT HER!) and is always begging my fat toxic ass to come down and defat and detox but I never do because I rebel against well being (She said as she leaned against her motorcycle, combed her ducks ass, and snarled with a cigarette dangling out of her mouth!)

Alright lets make a 2010 check list

- continued to support myself being a stand up comedian (ok! that's a good one...check)

-produced some great sold out shows (awesome...check)

-got a significant amount of press (sure.... check)
-OMG quit smoking! (big one...we'll see if it lasts...check!)
-I was on TV (ok good...had a guest spot on a show made with a camcorder on a gay network...TV! check!)
-made some folks laugh (that's always nice, right?...check)
-developed my website and "brand" (paid someone way too much money to draw a cartoon of me...check)
-began working on a new play with a script I’m obsessed with (illegitimate theater but who cares cause its amazing work with an amazing writer and actor...check!)
-had no real connection with anybody worth while or any decent sex (high kick! check)
-ate fried chicken once a week (rock n' roll! check)
-watched TONS of television (SHOW US YOUR TITS! check)

2011's my year though man. I can feel it! I mean I say that every year but...some good shit will happen. “I'm gonna be a STAH daddy! Ma name up in LIGHTS daddy!” I got big plans! First of all I’m going to be nicer to myself because I can be such a cunt to me. Second of all the career is going significantly in an upward direction. What else…let’s see…I'm going to leave the house more! Being a member of society is really daunting and unappealing (I’m a sitter, not a doer) but let's see if I can do it. Do I want a dude? Yeesh I mean I do but I’m so scared of all that! So I’m just going to say no for now and continue to complain that I’m still single for a living. Is that sabotage? All right here's a good one! I want to have an "open” heart in 2011! That's a good one right!? And hopefully this year it's not full of cocaine and trans fats. My heart is open to receive love...much like my hole, penis garage, nana's homemade slit pie, whatever you want to call it. Truthfully I have a really good feeling about this year for the world too. I have a feeling things are going to turn around a little bit...money will be made people will be happier. I dunno it's my psychic vision, and not just because I’m sitting here typing this wearing a turban and smelling of cumin. In retrospect every year that goes by is better than the last, even if it was really shitty you always come out on the other end better for the experience...they say...who the fuck knows.... not me that's for goddamned sure! Oh my other new years resolution is to curse more and do children’s birthday parties.

Happy FUCKIN New Year little kiddies. Thanks for following along for a year and let's make the next one fuckin METAL!!!!

Bryers Isn't Only Good Ice Cream...

2010-12-22T08:21:00.000-08:00

Just wanted to share these Duane Bryers pin ups. They're so hilarious and sexy and cute and beautiful! I love how much humor these each have...i love thinking of the 1960's business man coming home and wacking it to these chubby whores. It makes me kind of look forward to summer (for once) so i can wear a bikini with "flour" written across on the back or use a "bike phone"....and you know i will too! Enjoy and click around...

oh and happy holidays or whatever...

Mama's Collard Greens and Cornbread

2010-11-21T09:27:00.000-08:00

YO!

It's been a while but thanks for wanting more!

I haven't been writing because I’ve been going through some bouts of writers block, depression, anxiety, PAIN! THE PAIN! It's like childbirth and all I got to show for it is this baby weight!

But I’ve come out of it like I always do and I’m sorry I’ve been un-bloggy but I can't lie to you little sparkle faces.

I've just been existential, living purely in my ego and let me tell ya, being self-obsessed is exhausting work! Its bad enough I have to eat caviar right out of the can and have servants that give me back talk...its like living like an animal! But seriously, don't you ever get like that and say to yourself "I’ve become the type of person I hate most in the world? Fucking narcissist! I’m a fucking statistic!" Another performer with addictive personality disorder who hates herself and talks about herself and is a complete dick. Enough I say! ENOUGH! There's a whole world out there, sheesh calm down bitch!

But its weird in my bubble of self loathing and my depressing click of gossipy smug faced gay friends (I don’t mean you, love you baby!) I still have managed to be busy doing shows and rehearsing this AWSOME play which I can't wait for you to see. I play this chick named Phyllis from long island. She's a trampy ex homecoming queen who is completely psycho(type cast).

No sex here either. Which is good! Been coming to terms with my weight and my body (I know, can you believe it!?) and feeling pretty again and getting horn honks and googly eyes from the mens's. In the words of Fantasia Barino I got that "wobble wobble, shaped just like a cola bottle" and it’s good! I'm eating for hunger and less out of addiction to gravy. I have to celebrate my body cause I only have one and its jiggly and soft but it is what it is, and honestly who gives a shit! Being skinny is not going to make me happy, loving myself will make me happy...and maybe a little morphine. But with this new found confidence comes attracting men again. Ex's have been coming out of the woodwork, I’ve been getting approached, but dudes just wanna fuck! I've done the slut thing, its fun, I have no regrets but I’m over it. But sometimes I think I have it coming because I’m super aggressive with guys which could be translated to some as a cock tease. But just because I may occasionally "bite my lower lip" or "arch my back" when I talk to you, does not mean I’m not wifey! I can't help it (pout/blink blink/giggle giggle!) I'm not interested in a mediocre bone that’s only going to happen once or twice. watta snooze. I want to be number one! Number one to my dude and number one to the audience and number one to me! I’m starting to sound like a Mary J. Blige song! "THIS TIME ITS FO' ME LAWD JESUS GIMME MO' BABY LOVE DONTCHA KNOW I'M DOIN ME THIS TIME BABY!" I should make an album! I've got this inner black girl thing going on today what the hell!? whatever I’m goin wit it, shooot.

So that's where I’m at...coming out of the darkness of thinking about myself, while talking about myself endlessly for a living, and suddenly un-earthing my inner r&b singer! Love it!

oh and watch my sex tape!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4iohXh2pfGs

Progress?

2010-10-04T09:55:00.000-07:00

So working out with the new trainer. Twice a week. Pretty high intensity. Pretty high anxiety. Hasn't done shit.

Maybe because I'm still eating like a wildebeest. I can't help it. I had this big photo shoot (which is the picture to your left) with this pretty famous photographer where we collaborated on this concept which is me in sexy lingerie lying in a bed with my hair spread out on the pillow but I’m surrounded by cupcakes and potato chips and empty bottles of whiskey and wine and remote controls all around me on the bed. A slice a life, because I always wear lingerie and high heels and makeup when I’m shame eating in bed.... (giggle giggle) I’m a kitten (wink!) Anyway I saw some of the pictures and I looked like Louie Anderson in chiffon. What you see is completely airbrushed. Stomach removed.

I hate going to the fucking gym more than anything. See I’m from that generation of entitled lazy coddled attention whores who would rather saw their own tit off with a plastic knife than break a sweat or do an honest days work, BUT I’m doing it and it kinda blows. Not only is it hard and it hurts but also it’s embarrassing! First of all I spend a half hour trying to find a t shirt that doesn’t have [noticeable] bbq stains on it and I only shave my ankles because that’s the part my trainer feels when he stretches me. People at the gym make me fucking sick. Check out this guy! I snapped it from the elliptical. Look at this guy...presenting his anus!

In other news, I just cleaned out my closet… a truly dark and harrowing experience. All of the size 4 and 6 chanel and ysl dresses reminded me that not only did I used to be thin but I used to be stylish! And its unbelievable the memories attached to all the clothes. This is what I wore when I had a boyfriend. This is what I wore when I cheated on my boyfriend, this is what I wore when I was boning a stranger in a bathroom stall at bungalow 8, this is what I wore that time I was doing blow with that hooker and Andy Dick, this is what I wore when I used to leave the house for something other than cake. As I was tossing them in the give away pile I was crying touched by all the good memories...of being touched

OH p.s. Do you think its funny that I gave the salvation army like 3 old vibrators mixed in with the clothes? Well I do. HAHA! YOU TOUCHED IT!!!!

The Kick In the Size 14 Pants!

2010-08-31T11:42:00.000-07:00

Ok so remember the [s]ex convict from Pittsburgh?? He posted this picture of him and me on his facebook wall where I look like a fucking moose and of course I untagged myself because it was not cute....

Some chick friend of his commented on it "You love the fat bitches!" It kind of hit me hard but I regained composure and decided to be a lady about it and commented back "Yep, but you can't diet away ugly you fucking twat!"

I have to say though, it really lit a fire under me. Right then and there I ran and renewed my gym membership at a nice clean shiny new gym and signed up to work out with a big beefy sexy Brooklyn Italian gumba trainer twice a week. I told him "Just make me into something fuckable" he laughed, (he gets me) complied and explained to me that he's an ex marine and a football player (YUM! oop, sorry I just slid off my chair) and he's gonna be real tough on me and he's the 'boss' and he will only work with me if I’m extremely dedicated. He also said he will yell and curse which, for me, is a prerequisite with boyfriends and apparently now trainers. So tomorrow at 11am I am going to get my ass kicked in the gym by this gabagooli piece of meat. Truthfully I would rather sit on his lap and feed him lasagna than work out but that will come in time.

I'm a little nervous because this is so typical of me to just jump back in. I have a fear of failing again, but what can I do? I feel disgusting. Every time I look in the mirror I get nauseous and as much as I love waffles I hate the way I feel like this. I have been getting happier and I want my body to match my state of mind. So here I go again. I think it'll be good to have someone who's really tough on me to make me not slip up. Who knows it’s all about the journey and I’m just a small town girl livin in a lonely world.

So thank you facebook cunt! Thank you for calling to my attention that something needs to be done. And rest assured I will fuck your boyfriend and probably your father, and I’m gonna look damn good doing it!

Why Hello Again

2010-08-24T13:21:00.000-07:00

Hey Dolls,

Haven't written in a while because I’ve been busy on the road and working on some stuff. I'm going to be on Jeffery and Cole Casserole this Friday at midnight on LOGO, which is exciting, so be sure to tune into that. I'm working on some other exciting stuff that I don’t want to jinx so I'm just gonna tell you about it later.

My weight is still a disaster. I mean I’m becoming more accepting of it and have sort of stopped the binge cycle, which is good. The diner downstairs hasn't heard from me as much and is probably wondering if I finally died.

Today I went shopping with one of my homos and tried on a Zac Posen rubber band skirt in a large and it was pretty depressing. Homo was like "yeah you can't wear that, at least not yet." It looked like someone was fisting some ricotta cheese in a nylon stocking, which, incidentally is an activity homo is very familiar with. That’s what I love about homo; he tells it like it is! He may not have any t-cells left but he's certainly got lots of moxy!

Speaking of AIDS, I wouldn’t mind getting laid myself. It’s been a while, although I did make out with a townie when I was doing some shows in Pittsburgh. I was torturing him from the stage and I guess he has an abuse fetish because he came up to me after and put his big masculine arms around my even bigger and more masculine waist and squeezed it and pulled me on top of his 20-year-old boner and stuck is tongue down my throat. He had a tattoo of a miller beer can on his bicep which I have to say was pretty hot in a "Let’s smoke some meth and beat up on some fags and blacks" sort of way.

I still have this stupid belief that I won't really get a man until I’m a certain size, which is stupid I know. Maybe one of the reasons I’m still not "that size" is so I can hold off on love for a while. Let the old ticker heal. Such stupid girl stuff. Puke (I wish)

But I have to say I am happy and doing good and good things are happening so I keep on movin. And as I sit here and type, my stomach resting comfortably on my lap, I think to myself, Bruce Vilanch, (that's what I call myself sometimes) Bruce Vilanch, take a fucking shower because you’re starting to smell like the poor.

Have a wonderful week button's!

An Accident, And Not The Kind in My Pants.

2010-08-02T17:42:00.000-07:00

What a weekend. I just got back from doing 3 shows in Princeton and got in 2 car accidents and got a ticket all in 2 days! So I was putting on mascara, lacing up a corset, texting and drinking bourbon while steering but what’s the big deal, I’m a multitasking career girl! And I got a parking ticket! There were no signs that said I couldn’t…. in that swamp.

I'm just riddled with anxiety. My car is totaled and I have terrible TMJ. By the way there is some sort of psychosomatic tightening of my jaw and my vagina that is happening. I have to literally take a breath and remember to unclench. It’s like a permanent kegal which sounds like a dream but trust me its not.

What is that about? I am subconsciously tightening and closing my openings from stress. Consciously I love a nice dick but my subconscious must've been raped by something dark and ugly because this is ridiculous. It’s like a vice!

My shrink told me I need to start masturbating. I've never really done it, I’ve tried but truthfully after 45 minutes of screaming, "I’m close, I’m close, I’m close" ones arm gets tired. I like the real deal better with a real live person...call me old fashioned! She said that it would be interesting if I started masturbating because she senses, in her professional opinion, that after climax, all my self hatred will come bubbling to the surface. There’s an incentive! Most people look forward to a cigarette after an orgasm, she's telling me I have to look forward to post traumatic stress syndrome! Not what I call a "happy ending."

My calendar has been filling up which is good but it looks like I won't have a car to get to these gigs I have to go to which concerns me greatly. What am I supposed to tell my agent? I banged up my dad's car and he won't let me work!? Oh yeah I forgot to mention it was my dad’s car. He sent me an angry strongly worded email today that he thinks I am trying to intentionally hurt him by lying to him about my accident and that I’m a no good piece of shit lying manipulating ungrateful brat. Which is all I need. I actually really fucked up my neck and shoulder and suffered extreme anxiety over this weekend and the auto-drama. And truthfully being a grown woman getting in trouble with her father doesnt help and it seems like nobody fucking cares.
You should know I'm a really good friend to people I love. Like really good, if i let you in my heart there is NOTHING i won't do for you, like i would take a bullet. Friends that I always take care of, and am there for when they are sick and in pain seem to be getting a laugh out of my calamities and not even once asking how I’m doing or how my neck is. I know I’m hilarious when I’m angry or in pain (its true I really am, I’m adorable!) but I need a hug not a laugh or at least a phone call! But that’s alright, I’m not Jill Zarin I don't keep score of who's a better friend but I can’t ignore the fact that whenever I feel down or hurt I am always somehow more isolated than when I'm not. Whatever it's stupid to have expectations of people, I’m learning. Alright that's enough! There are more violins in here than in Steven Tyler's bathroom!

I need to clear out the negativity inside me right now because I’m a nasty mess. No wonder no one wants to be around me! I'm working which is really positive and really important to me so there you have it.

Focus!

How Many Cans of Pringles Do I Have to Eat To Make The Pain Go Away?

2010-07-16T12:24:00.000-07:00

Well today HH is back on the WW. Its been a rough coupl'a weeks. I literally ate everything and anything at all times of the day. Put on 20 lbs and ruined all my hard work but I’m going to start again with hopes of finding some sort of strength and discipline in me this time around. I hate the way that I feel like this. Like my stomach is actually resting on my thighs right now. My ass and tits jiggle like a drunk Asian girl trying to stand still with heels on.

Last week sucked. I had a couple panic attacks and pretty much haven’t left the house in days. First of all it’s too fucking hot! I'm sick of being so sweaty! Sweating like a blind lesbian at a fish market (HI-YO!) Who wants to be wet all the time, and breathing stagnant air? What a nightmare! These assholes in sun dresses and gladiator sandals all moist and veiny….give me a coupl'a wool sweaters and a fur any day. I always feel like I look so matte and polished in the winter months. My makeup and hair is always perfect...In the summer I look like Tammy Faye in the crematorium...(groan)

I'm feeling sort of back to my old self. Its weird re-reading my blog entries I realize what a predictable slut I am. Bone-Depression-Binge-Back Bone-Depression-Binge-Back. What a snooze.

I had my tarot cards read yesterday and it made me feel much more positive whether you believe in that stuff or not. I guess I forget that things have a way of working out and there’s a time and alchemy for everything to come to place. Basically he said that everything will turn around in the Fall, as the weather changes so will my career and love life and I have a god given gift to bring laughter to the world. Isn't that sweet? I know he's right I’m just wonderful! So I was right! Nothing good comes from the summer, at least not for the doughy and hilarious...So enjoy it while it lasts you fucking rock hard sweaty whores!

XOXO

H
Here is what i did to myself. Its sick i know. I'm sick I have a sickness.
BEFORE: I was almost there stomach was like a week away from being completely flat

AFTER: The saboteur rears her ugly head!

Slow It Down There Fatty

2010-07-06T16:28:00.000-07:00

Well remember when I said I went off weight watchers for 3 days...yeah that turned into 2 weeks. I'm pretty much back to square one. I gained about 20 lbs in 2 weeks and before you say no it’s not possible, keep in mind, you've never seen me eat. I eat my life away, in private, with the shades drawn like a drug addict. So whatever. I am where I am. I sabotaged myself again. I failed. I have ass on all sides of my body now. Baby got front!

I keep telling myself...this is the last day of binging 5 times a day. Tomorrow I will change, but tomorrow comes and I see blackness, and not just the girl behind the counter at KFC, I mean real darkness.... as in a bleak doomed existence. I think what I am battling here, more than weight is a real food addiction. Welp Oprah! You nailed it again! It’s not the thyroid, its not the exhaustion, its the addiction to filling our fantastic souls with pudding. What am I feeding? What is this blind inhalation of food all about? Well from what I can tell it’s that I’m lonely. That I’m scared I’ll always be lonely. That I’m in a constant pursuit for love of all kinds and I’m not giving it to myself or letting myself have it so I must coat my insides with gravy and make flesh cushions so no one can come near me? Maybe. My shrink seems to think that is the case and tries to help me work on it by practicing to love my inner child, and nurture myself and fill myself with love. I'm working on it. I know it all sounds a little birkenstockish but I am in agreement with the theory that we can energetically shift our thinking and thereby shift our life. I'll get there.

It's typical "20's" shit. Finding yourself, learning about yourself through others, defining who you are blah blah blah. I hate being in my 20's. I don't like the process of it, and frankly, I don’t think that I’m really cut out for it, on a soul level. I think I’m meant to be in my 50's or 60's. I mean think about it! I love to sit, I love to gossip, I love the beauty parlor, and playing cards. I love too much jewelry at a swimming pool. Basically I’m ready to retire is what I’m saying here. Enough is enough. I don’t want to meet my husband (god willing there is one) I don't want the honeymoon period, I’m not excited for that. The only fucking I want to do is giving my husband the middle finger as we pass each other in the hallway. Is that sick? Maybe I’m just fundamentally the laziest person on earth. I cant guarantee that I have a great life ahead of me and not knowing is very unsettling for me. But it’s my decision. I know this. I have to keep plugging away and it’s exhausting. I just want the end result. Maybe that’s why eating is so satisfying. You eat, you shit (god willing) you eat again and so on and so on.

Tolstoy famously said, "The biggest surprise in a man's life is old age." I suppose I don't want to turn around and be old and think that I ate and slept and drank my life away. I would like to look back and say I had a pretty amazing crazy life. So I’m not going to go crazy about the number on the scale for the time being although I know we are all anticipating the after photos, or maybe I just am, but I am going to go crazy about slowing down, not being so fearful and enjoying the process.

The Scale

2010-06-24T08:54:00.000-07:00

Alright so I slipped! I took 3 days and just totally fell off the wagon. Ate everything and anything in site. No holds barred, no counting points no nothing. And I was doing so well!

I weighed myself and thought I was at my goal weight but none of my old clothes were even dreaming of zipping. I’m all “OMG get a loada me! I’m the skinniest littlest sexiest thing since Melba toast!” Then I'm in my closet trying to pull on a pair of size 4 YSL shorts over my GIANT ASS!

I decided to try a different scale because maybe mine was broken. So I did what any normal logical person would do: I got drunk and slept with somebody who had one. When I awoke next to whats his name, I tip toed to his bathroom and I was shocked! His scale told me I was 20 lbs heavier than I thought! And I trust his scale because the night before he paid for the cab so I knew he was a stand up guy! On the walk of shame home in the middle of Murray Hill in the blinding sun, with my dried up nose bleed and wrinkled sequined cocktail dress, I felt the stares of the people on their way to work thinking “God! What a Fat Ass!”

So, depressed and defeated I decided to binge because “that’ll teach ‘em!” I ate BLT’s, fried mozzarella sticks, entire bags of Doritos, macaroni and cheese, every kind of candy you can imagine, real ice cream, pasta in rich cream sauces, bread, pizza, cake, you name it! When I start I can’t stop until I have everything that I can think of so I can be done, and that will be that. This is a horrible way to react, I know this, but when I’m upset I just go for it, it’s how I'm programmed.

It wasn’t only my backstabbing serpent liar scale that upset me, it’s the lack of work I’ve been getting. I saw the Joan Rivers documentary and related so much! I need to wear sunglasses because the white of the blank calendar is blinding me! I have been working endlessly on other projects which is good, but who am I if I'm not on stage? I’m a fucking mess! I hate not performing it makes me so sad and withdrawn and hungry. Microphones are Prozac. But things will pick up, that’s showbiz…ups and downs.

I’ve been working the press angle in the hopes that if my name is somewhere then I might be more inclined to get a nice juicy full calendar. So interviews are set up, things are moving everything will be fine.

Setbacks are normal! I’m not going to beat myself up over this. Although its hard walking around in the summer seeing all the flat stomachs and the men who love to spooge on them. Fucking TINY SLUTS! I HATE YOU! AAARRGHHHHHGGG! No I’m fine….really! In fact, I think I’m gonna change my name to Harmony Halloway. Wattaya think?

I'm Trying Here!

2010-06-18T10:38:00.000-07:00

Just got back from family overnight trip. My brother got sworn into the Maryland bar so we all went down to support him. Thank god there’s a lawyer in the family...with my mouth I’ll need one! Although I asked him what time it was and he sent me a bill!

This was a good trip and a bad trip for a lot of reasons and not only cause I learned that mescaline and mesculin are two different things. It was good because I actually had a really good talk with my dad about my career and life and everything. I saw my brother accomplish something really huge and my dad was crying sitting next to me SO proud of the big oaf, and it made me want him to feel proud of me that way. Basically I brought up that there were unsavory things written about me on the internet and he told me. "Suzie! This is what you love to do! People are always gonna be nasty and talk shit, but you got a family and friends who love you and will always support you and you are meant to entertain. This is your dream and you'd be a fool to let that go cause of some asshole on the googles." Even though it sounded like a generic dad speech it actually sunk in and made me feel better! Go figure! The old man nailed it! First of all it was the first time my dad has EVER acknowledged what I do for a living and more than that made it feel like being an entertainer was, I dunno, a good idea?! He's a good pop and after all is said and done and all the bullshit curve balls that life has thrown at me I’m a pretty lucky gal.

My mom was driving me crazy because she’s such a Pollyanna and thinks that life is perfect and full of light and good vibrations. My glasses are never rose colored and hers always are and sometimes that annoys the fuck out of me. (For a first hand look at the irritation I posted a link below of hour 3 of our road trip to Maryland together.) She's a good kid. She just wants me to be happy and tries the only way she knows how. Incessant affirmations that make the veins in my forehead pop out.

Anyway, June being kind of slow, some things have started picking up, actually in the past 24 hours. There’s some big press and TV stuff that is happening on the way and a new agent, oddly enough in the wake of shit talk from meanies. I gotta take dads advice of tuning out the haters and reminding myself of what I do and why I do it and moms advice of protecting myself with seashell bellies and unicorn farts and just power the fuck through. What happens happens. I just wanna make some moneys doing my thang. Is that so much to ask?

So GO FUCK YOURSELF HATERS! I AIN’T SCARED A YEAUX!

CLICK HERE TO SEE ME AND MOM

I don't know how not to blow you.

2010-06-11T08:45:00.001-07:00

I've been having a lot of sex recently. The summer of the slut! I guess now that I’m half way to my goal weight I now have the confidence I need to have so so empty sex with total strangers. Everyone's been pretty medioke. But I’ve been having fun I s'pose and my pee doesn’t seem to be burning yet. I don’t know what it is, its like the old song goes: "I’m just a girl who can't say no, I'm in a turrible fix! I always say 'come on, let's go' Jist when I orta say nix!" I've always been that way. It's that all or nothing mentality I guess. Like I’ll go for 6 months in a complete dry spell and then I’ll go another 6 months like a recliner: soft, squishy and always someone in me. I'm all for free love, I just feel like after a certain age you shouldn’t still wake up the next morning and shudder. The ones who dig me give me the heebee jeebee's, and the ones who I dig want nothing to do with me! Ain't that the way it goes!? Might be nice to have someone who, I don’t know, might want to see me a second time? Like I slept with a guy from Finland the other day, he never called me again, guess he was finnished.

All I want is a big giant beefy manly man who can flip me around like a pancake, has a few sheckles in the bank, is hilarious, and gets all googly eyed when he looks at me. You know, my ego needs to get fangered too sometimes! (You have to say fanger like:"OH MAMA he FANGERED me behind the bleachers Mama! But I love 'im Mama.... cuz he fangered me!). I want a guy with a dick that spouts oxygen and I live on the moon! Seriously though is that too much to ask!?

I have no regrets about these rendez vous'. I really don’t. I wouldn’t sleep with someone if I didn’t really want too, it’s just that sometimes I don't realize until after the fact.

The guys have been skeeving me out though. I slept with some guy last night who's idea of pillow talk is telling me the story of when he took a shit outside on the ground in union square in the middle of the night cuz he really had to go and there was no bathrooms open! LIKE SERIOUSLY!? And he was outraged that I’ve never taken a shit outside before! Does a Harriet shit in the woods!? FUCK NO! And he like burped and farted in front of me! Meanwhile, all i do is suck my stomach in and eat bib lettuce with the dressing on the side and spend hours plucking and waxing and moisterizing and perfuming just for someone to pass gass in my fucking face! Its disgusting! Or then there’s the guy who I went out with a few weeks back who doesn’t call me or ask me out, but periodically sends me pictures of himself with random celebrities he takes on his i-phone. Yeah, thanks. Wow you must be too cool for me dude! People are the weirdest man! I mean maybe I’m no prize but Jesus Christ if this is what’s out there, then maybe saturday night's filled with high calorie ice cream and showtime on demand doesnt look so bad!

DEATH METAL!

2010-06-01T18:23:00.001-07:00

I’m so fucking metal! Metal is the phrase of the day. Pass it on. It means awesome. It means rock and roll. It means VERY BADASS!

Its time to take some action and make some shit happen. I lost 23 lbs and counting. Betcha cant wait for my "after" bikini shots. I got that tiny pink bikini waiting in my closet, seams are still in tact! But blah blah blah folks! Who honestly gives a shit? All I want to do is be busy. I’m scared shitless cause June has no bookings. Well two so far and that’s better than nothing but my bank account is dryer than my womb. I don’t need to be skinny I don’t need to be freshly fucked, although the steroids that my dermatologist put me on for my mysterious and incessant itching (sexy right?) have been making me wetter than the underside of John Goodman’s man boob. You know what else I don't need? I don’t need to have my dick stroked by a bunch of agents and publicists and like-minded showbiz people who promise me the world and don't return my phone calls. In this day and age in showbiz you gotta make it happen for yourself. I need to take the fork out of my mouth and replace it with money. Put my money where my mouth is is what I’m trying to say. I'm sorry. I’m in a vulgar sort of crazed mood right now. Thought it might be a good time to write.

But its summer ladies and gentlemen! I was always a child of the summer. Well that’s a lie. Summer is only fun when your stomach is flat. There was only that one summer when I was skinny. It was the best summer ever 2 summers ago. I was so skinny and had a "boyfriend" (exclusive bone) and a job at a nightclub which allowed me some money to waste away on Christian Louboutins which are all fucked up now because you put 200 lbs on a ciggarette heel and add a bottle of whiskey and your shoes don’t stay in the best condition. Now I’m dieting and my money is being drained. But I am hopeful! I am going to be a star goddamn it! I am going to make television history and live in laurel canyon in an amazingly landscaped house with my airedailes and fresh Christian Louboutins that I walk on like a butterfly and I don’t give a shit if you believe me or not. I am so FUCKING METAL! (air guitar) and guess who else is metal... YOU!

Boys Boys Boys (-enberry pie)

2010-05-26T13:57:00.000-07:00

So summer is here. Such a beautiful fucking day in gods green kingdom. I'm sick from the case of kettle one I drank this weekend. It’s coming out my pores. My forehead has zits with their own shadow. That’s alright it needs to come out. Seep through me. On the bright side I lost 18 lbs in 6 weeks on weight watchers! I have another 20 to go but I’m taking it slow… so by my calculations I should be at my goal weight by the fall…just in time for thanksgiving… And mind you I’ve dropped this weight with pretty much no exercise. I literally don’t move. I sit. I point to things. I sleep. It’s really the glamorous life I’ve always dreamed of. Unemployed and dieting.

Dating's been…let us say…having some sort of momentum lately. In that I kinda met someone I kinda dig. Someone diggable. Oh and its a wonderful feeling. Thank god I actually like someone...this soul crushing anxiety I feel is awesome! I HATE having crushes! As far as I'm concerned having a "crush" on someone is just a reminder of how alone you actually are. Because you like someone and there they are...all the way over there...on their i-phone being all aloof...fucking dreamboat just chillin right over there...and here I am...with my blackberry being all "maybe I should check the battery because something must be wrong I’m not getting any texts." Even Howie Mandell's phone rang eventually. You meet someone you like and they text (i paraphrase): "oh I’m coming over to bone your brains out!" Then cut to one too many hours later you’re wondering if the” just kidding” was silent. Cause then I get all dolled up in a "oh whatever I just effortlessly look like this" kind of way. Like tousled hair, soft cotton...just smelling like cookies for no goddamned reason. Yeah THIS TOOK 2 HOURS PRICK!!

I guess what it is, is this whole guy girl thing just bypasses me completely. I've never had a mind for dating politics. Like my girlfriends are like "I mean Becky,” they think my name is Becky, “Wait like 2 weeks before like going down on him, and when you do be sure to only make it half a blowie because I mean like whattryou a whore? And wait 3 quarter lunar fortnights in between texts cause you don’t want him to think that you got nothin else goin on." p.s. all these idiots have boyfriends. So maybe the games work. I never really wanted a boyfriend before. I mean I want a huz one day down the road to gimme some awesome lil babies but that’s way off. Until then I don’t really give a shit, but I see it happening around me and it just makes me curious because I’ve never really had one. You see, I'm the rebound blonde...or the coupl'a laughs girl...or the friend with benefits. Men seem to think I’m just a good time Charlie because I shove it all in their face. Oh no no! I take full responsibility! You don’t have a pair of double d's and eyes that go up and down a man like a searchlight and not be asking for trouble! I just can't help it! I love men! Sue me! I love the way they smell, the way they feel, the way they chew on a steak or sip on a beer, I love the way they look, the way they’re built, the way they taste, the way they find something funny and smirk out of the corner of their mouths, I love their whiskers, I love a man’s laundry, dirty and clean…you name it, I love every part! I even love the way they hurt me! (violin) And I wonder why I’m never "the girlfriend" and never have been. I don’t know what it is...I guess I’m just too much of a blast! Maybe if I was mousier and a little more shy at parties I’d be the girl a guy can just stay at home with and do whatever it is that couples do. But I think I’d make an awesome girlfriend one day... I mean come on I’d be the best! I would relationship the SHIT outta this shit!

It’s just this springtime heat and this city. You got to be here to experience it. It happens every year…the weather gets really hot, the clothes come off, and the everybody just swells with love. It’s in the air and its food for thought. Mmmm I like food…especially pie…and gummy bears. 13 points left today.

Where Have I Been!?

2010-05-17T12:28:00.001-07:00

Ok so I’ve been M.I.A. I know...

It’s been a really rough week. I get these catatonic depressions sometimes where I hide in my room with the curtains drawn for days and weeks and months sometimes and ignore the phone and the world. It was one of those. I've been through them before usually triggered by something that sends me into a tailspin. This time it was a week ago when I went out and Kelly Osborne (or as I like to call her Babe: Pig in the City) and her band of skinny hipster star fuckers hurt my feelings at some poser nightclub, which I don’t even know why I went there but so it goes. After this drunken "fight" I went home and ate two Entenmanns cakes (Devils Food with marshmallow frosting and Louisiana Crunch) and slept for a week refusing to come out of hiding. Babe was simply the catalyst for a much bigger problem that manifested itself into a definite set back. I like to cocoon and sleep in crumbs and not shower for a couple days (wait a minute...whose the pig now?). I started drinking and smoking a few cigarettes here and there a couple of weeks ago when I was on the road which I knew would off set a myriad of bad behavior, but I did it any way. Its all good though. I stopped smoking, and even after turning my bed into a trough and eating everything in sight with my hands tied behind my back, I weighed in today and saw that I miraculously gained 0 lbs last week! I don’t understand it, I’m not questioning it but phew that was a close one. I'm back on!

Because I am more self-aware now then ever, these depressions last only a few days instead of months like they used too. Seriously, I was like the Bouvier-Beales and my apartment would turn into Grey Gardens except with chicken carcasses instead of cats. I know who I am and where I’m going and have more faith now I suppose. I just need to be reminded of it, and not be so self indulgent and feel sorry for myself like a little pussy bitch! I know I need to hide a little bit sometimes cause the world is really scary! So I do and then I’m good. It’s like recharging my batteries. I'm more resilient now, and I have to be in this business, so I’m not going to let some ignorant reality TV star with cankles get in the way of where I’m going.

So here it is! I’ve gotten your letters and heard you come up to me after shows asking why I haven't blogged in a while (and thanks for reading) I felt I owed you an explanation. I've had a really rough go. I guess all creative people go through their periods of feeling crappy because comedy, for example, is an individual pursuit and that can be really isolating. In daily life, and I would imagine many other types of 'artists' feel like they are easily disconnected from society. People are always rubbing their goddamned ovaries and 6 foot something boyfriends in my face (the other day a friend actually said to me "I have so much cum in my hair, right now!" and I turned to him and said “Justin Elizabeth Bieber that is ENOUGH!”). Yes ok, I get bitter sometimes! I don’t want to hear about how your boss doesn’t understand you, and its not that I have anything better to contribute but it stings more I think because my dreams may not always be appreciated or maybe sometimes looked down upon. Sometimes I get blue cause my notion of success seems unachievable or unrealistic to me too and that’s just normal to get scared and hide.

Anyway thank you so much for the letters and the laughs and the love. I know I’m on the right track and I aint never givin up! I have no alternative! There's a lot more filth left in this mouth to spread around...ok I meant jokes.... not like herpes.... herpes is so junior high.

Surgeons General Warning

2010-05-05T10:08:00.000-07:00

Confession time. Yesterday I went to the plastic surgeon for a consultation. I have a pretty bad scar that I wanted removed (psychiatrist tried but….) and I figured while I was there. I’d ask about some liposuction. Just a question! Why not? Big deal!

I am not one of these people who are anti plastic surgery. I believe that if it makes you feel better about yourself and if you want to fix something why not fix it. Unfortunately or fortunately my family believes in this too. Someone said to me..."once you have a child you'll want him or her to know that they are beautiful the way they are and not to listen to the world around them." In my family if your kid has a big shnaz and he’s self conscious about it we say shave that sucker down (this is my natural nose! The shnaz gene skipped me, thank god.) So I decided to go and check this doctor out and see what my options were. Even at my skinniest I have a little pooch belly and extra skin from the ups and downs. Some say its pretty, its feminine...I say it looks like an abdominal scrotum. No appointments have been made and here’s why.

I walked into the doctor’s office (a known "perfectionist" in his field but that just means "salesman") and he proceeds to bombard me with recommended procedures. He suggests things that I never even thought of! For one thing he thinks the tops of my breasts are too hollow which makes my nipples look higher and that he could take fat from my stomach and inject it in the top of my breasts to make them fuller on top. (Can you imagine? Hey guys can we stop for something to eat? My fuckin’ tits are rumbling!) He wanted to take fat from my hips and inject it under my eyes, telling me that my brow is "above par" and my under eye area is "below par" and that’s why I have dark circles under my eyes and I will age better through my 30's and 40's with fat under my eyes. The Doctor explained to me that "we go through life judging people by how they look. Our eye is trained to judge if someone is beautiful or ugly based on facial fullness. If a face has more volume then we perceive it as beautiful." He told me that he could take the scar tissue from my scar and melt it down or something and inject it under my lips because I have two hollow spots under my bottom lip which gives me a natural frown and he literally said, I KID YOU NOT: "we can turn you from a sad clown to a happy clown." Crickets…. He also wanted to reshape my entire torso, hips and stomach and the entire surgery with all the recommended procedures would cost 16,000 not including anesthesia. Kind of makes you sick doesn’t it? Not for people with weak stomachs [on their tits.]

So as you can imagine, this experience was really sort of horrifying especially considering that I walked in with my normal low-level of hysteria that i always have, but do you know what the fucked up part is? I actually walked out thinking I need all this surgery!!! On the subway ride home I was looking at peoples faces. Looking at whose under eyes were fuller and if that made them more attractive.... I was so confused I ended up going home with an Aztec.

A couple hours later I came to my senses! What the fuck! I'm on stage for a living I'm not gonna go fucking with my face! And how dare he take a girl in her 20’s and just list her flaws A to Z! I don’t want to lose the integrity of my face and body so I can look like a sex shop blowup doll! And god damnit I get cast in parts not because I look like a blowup doll but because I’m legitimately talented and I lie there and act like one! People with plastic surgery look like they've had plastic surgery! They can do whatever they want but Jesus Christ! Don't impose that on me! The only ass I want in my face is Chris Cornell’s! (I’d like to eat that black hole sun!)

Now I’m reading these tabloids as I tend to do.... with delusions of seeing my name… hoping to one day see the headline “Comedian Harriet Halloway Caught Man Handling Andy Dick In Bathroom Stall” and every page is about getting skinny. Jen Lost 7 lbs in 7 days! Kardashians in weight war! Kendra Wilkinson How Did She Lose her Baby Weight and Who Exactly is She? It’s amazing what America does to women. We are constantly made, by the media and the world around us to feel that we are not hot enough. These women have teams of people to make them look that way. Normal people don’t look like that! It’s not possible. But we keep trying. It’s all so sick and disturbing. I’m so nauseous I have a good mind to stick my finger down my throat and puke up my salad with fat free dressing!

Me Too = DITTO

2010-05-01T13:06:00.000-07:00

I have writers block. And I'm a big fat LIAR! I said I would work out 4 days this week and take a wild guess how many times I decided to hit the gym.... ZERO! Whateva...I do wadda want!

To be honest, and your just gonna think I'm making a stupid excuse, I have actually been legitimately busy (I just made myself giggle tee hee) BUT SERIOUSLY GUYS! Between doing shows, showing face at events (where incidentally no one really has a grip on who I actually am), branding, meetings, counting points and crying into my pillow who has the time!? I wish I were at least writing new material...the only thing I write these days is everything I eat and its goddamned points value! How many points is a bullet?

Thursday I went to the Paper Magazine Beautiful People party...I was featured as a beautiful person in 2004 and as an alumnus, I feel a certain responsibility to go and share my wisdom with the new crop of beautiful people... and by wisdom, I of course mean hole. Didn't go over, but Gossips very own Beth Ditto was the cover girl of this month's Beautiful People Issue and she and her band, who look exactly like the cast of Revenge Of The Nerds, performed at the party. Beth was magnetic, boisterous, jiggly, loveable and wild animal on that stage! Here is a woman who owns her size and is contented and for some reason...I BELIEVE BETH DITTO! I believe this tale she's weaving...it seems actually...genuine. It was really inspiring to me to see someone so talented and joyous communicating with an audience. Made me want to put less emphasis on my weight and more emphasis on what I do. God it must be so freeing to be a lezbo.

Look at this gorgeous star child rip it up! I love her :)

Jews and News

2010-04-26T06:13:00.000-07:00

Weigh in day week 3: I lost 1 pound. Alright alright this is ok. Harriet you are not bulimic superwoman. You are an independent woman who makes a living, you try your hardest, its tough out there, you’re a good friend to those around you.... you’re a snappy dresser...you've got your health.... (???)

I was really hoping to lose like 2 or 3 BUT lets be real here. Last night was my dad's big night of being honored by the community of Fort Lee New Jersey for being Jew of the year or something (I don’t know I wasn’t really paying attention.) These affairs always have beautiful smorgies during the cocktail hour and then the catered kosher dinner is always shmeh. The fish is too fishy, the chicken is a little dry, there’s a draft blowing on me, my kingdom for a gasex, oy dahling, such a thing, you look so beauteeful (did you see the size of her? poor thing really beefed up. her pupik sticks out past her bubles, she should only find a husband, god willing poo poo poo.) Well, in between telling people I’m "dating but no one special" and "WHAT? You had work done? I would never know you just look well rested!" and "no, Mrs. Cohen I’m not gonna do my act right here, but come to a show anytime!" the smorgasbord was fabulous and I sampled a little bit of everything but I was good! I loaded up on the grilled vegetables, I had like maybe 2 tablespoons of pasta I went a little nuts at the caviar station but please how many points could it possibly be? It's litterally a sturgeon abortion on a cracker. Then the dinner that I expected to be disgusting was unexpectedly delicious (it's not my fault! I was full but what was I to do?) And I ate the whole thing, which wasn’t that bad points wise. I had 3 chocolate covered strawberries and a bite of apple crisp and a bite of dairy free kosher ice cream weirdness. I think over all I was ok but abortions are salty so I think I'm retaining water. Let's just say that cause it’ll make me feel better.

My goal for the week should I chose to accept it...I have to fucking get myself back to the gym. I mean enough is enough let’s face the music here! After my traumatizing experience at the spinning class I never went back. I HATE cardio! I have enough horrible things that I have to do in my life that I don’t like why add one more? People always say "I feel so good after omg!" Fuck you! I feel like shit after! But, I don’t think there is a way of getting around this. I have to start going to the gym. Like daily. I guess that membership I got will finally come in handy. Ok here is the challenge I am going to work out 4 days this week and if I lose more than one pound by next Monday I will continue to work out every week. Sound fair? UGH! I DONT WANNA!

FIENDING LIKE A DRUG ADDICT!

2010-04-22T20:03:00.000-07:00

nerds rope
rainbow sherbert
gummy peach rings
cotton candy
The entire line of haribo products
Almond Joy
i saw a disgarded twizzler on the street and i thought to myself "who could be so careless to let one fall on the ground like that?"
blue rasberry ANYTHING!
Coconut Cake FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCK ME!
grape jello!
Nutter Butters
Grape Jello and nutter butters together so its like a peanut butter and jelly dessert sensation.
donuts
funnel FUCKING CAKE!
Watermelon Roll

pretzles
dorritos!
cheez whiz (or anything where cheese is spelled with a z)
everything bagels
Fried Chicken
BUTTER!
Buttered fried chicken
fried chicken wrapped in strips of pizza dipped in ranch.
macaroni and cheese
gravy
eggplant rolatini wraped in bacon, ....why dont people put bacon and eggplant together more often?
jalapeno poppers

Totes Jade!

2010-04-21T10:08:00.000-07:00

I have to say I have reservations about this weight loss endeavor.... I feel like with every pound I lose I lose a pound of funny. I feel like audiences relate more to a slightly rounder HH. This is something I worry about. On the flip side I worry a man will never love me because he'll think that I’m already pregnant. At least now I look like I'm in my 2nd trimester instead of my third. I must say I will miss feigning pregnancy. Its so easy to get a seat on the subway, people let you cut in front of them in line, problem is they yell at you for smoking.

Well, it's springtime folks! And everyone is in a relationship! If I see another scruffy guy in a knit cap and white cotton Hanes t-shirt and saggy tapered Uniclo jeans with some skinny stylish 19 year old with cut off shorts and McQueen platforms I think I’ll go postal! Yes we know dear, McQueen is dead! We get it! You're paying homage! My god you're so fashionably sympathetic! Someone should really pay attention to you! Everyone thinks they are asserting their individuality but they all look the same, it’s maddening, and yet, they have eachother! They're all friends, they're all lovers, and they all know each other in parks, and cafes, and stop on their skateboard to chat with another one who’s riding a vintage bicycle with no underwear on. And they're always eating haute- mac and cheese sitting outside at a restaurant being like "What are calories?" And then here I come! Galumphing down the street jiggling like Jell-O on a rollercoaster, in my car tarp and heart shaped sunglasses looking like Zsa Zsa on steroids, hissing and booing and saying "well aren't you just little and sexy sexy sexy!"

Why cant I just be happy and accepting? Why can't I see love and accept it as something real and not some hipster fantasy world? Because THEYRE DISGUSTING THATS WHY! When did I become so jaded and bitter? I think I always was. I remember being 6 and telling my babysitter "After you die people will continue to love and miss you, but after they die, you will most likely be forgotten forever, your only sense of existence is a block of stone with a scribble of words that by now had been weathered and unreadable just like your pitiful rotting corpse 6 feet beneath it." I contradict myself though because I do love people! I love looking at them, I love the energy they can give, I love hearing what they are about, and I love the power of humans.... I just hate the ones who are effortlessly happy. And if you are reading this and you are skinny and sexy and live in a loft and you're a serial monogamist with beautiful men who have always worshiped you and never broken your heart, or if you are a guy who's parents have money and taught you how to sail and put your art work on the refrigerator, and you love going to the gym and getting blowjobs at Sway...YOUR DAY WILL COME MOTHER FUCKER! And when it does I hope it hurts and I hope you learn a little something! And another thing...your artwork SUCKS!

Have a wonderful spring day people!

Boop!

Harriet :)

Bamboozled by grogginess.

2010-04-19T09:32:00.000-07:00

OK so i woke up at 7am to pee and weighed myself and i wasnt happy! I went back to sleep, and woke up at 11am and weighed in again and it seems i thought the 2 was a 5 and it turns out i actually lost one pound instead of gaining two as i had originally thought. woops

So this is what i wrote at 7am:

Weigh in day week 2. I gained 2 FUCKING LBS! I'M ANGRY AS A HORNET! >:O LOOK! LOOK AT THAT! THATS AN EMOTICON OF WHAT MY FACE LOOKS LIKE RIGHT NOW! i don't understand! i could feel it too...last week i could actually feel myself getting thinner....this week i didn't and i was like i bet i gained! i'm 195 fucking lbs! i'm like a linebacker or a UFC fighter! Except POOR! Maybe i should move to Atlanta and marry an uppity black woman...oh god how did this happen!
Ok i need to calm down (but i'm really pissed) everyone keeps saying "you lose the most in your first week" OK that could very well be, but aren't you supposed to just go down from there? How did i gain? I followed the points exactly. I went grocery shopping this week i NEVER grocery shop!.... i thought that would make it better but maybe it didnt. Maybe i ate more salt this week? Maybe i swallowed an anvil and didnt realize? WTF? Going to hide under my covers now....How many calories does crying yourself to sleep burn?

Then before i went back to sleep i decided to jot down notes to write about when i woke up:

impatient aries nothing has been moving fast enough, weight/career too!
i need to exersise more i s'pose, buut i HATE excersising
noone fucking ever returns my calls or emails.
i want muffins
if i was richer id be skinner
maybe i should wait till i have money. celebrities are gorgeous cause they have trainers make up artists liposuction yada yada yada

Wow! the anger! the drama! I weighed myself again and felt like such a twat! I mean i lost 1 lb, which still isnt great but its better than gaining two and it means i lost a total of 8 lbs in two weeks which is pretty damn good! I'm used to losing like 40 lbs in 2 months and then i take a sip of water and gain 12 back! It says you're supposed to lose 1 to 2 lbs a week in order to lose it in a healthy fashion and have any chance in hell at keeping it off so i s'pose i'm on the right track. I am still impatient but its something i am working on. Breath bitch! BREAATHHH!

Come see me do my stuff at Cornelia tonight....its a great lineup and if your in the area it might be fun...you never know!

The Shape of Things: A Little Back Story

2010-04-17T07:21:00.000-07:00

My whole life my parents have been examples of health and wellness. My father has been on the same diet since 1972. A doctor literally hypnotized him to stop eating sugar, salt and fat and to never eat between meals. Since that fateful day in 1972, he has pretty much eaten the same three meals everyday just mixing up his proteins to "keep it interesting." Since I can remember if I reached for butter for my bread or a salt shaker he'd slap my hand away and would say "Salt is the devil Suzie" (he never calls me by my actual name. He always calls me Suzie or Suzelah or Dolly and calls my brother Charlie, Johnny or Professor. Makes no sense but there ya have it) as a teenager when I started to naturally fill out he would (and still does) pinch my ass or my love handle and say "Woops! That’s how I lost my wristwatch!" or "Dolly looks like she got a little beefy…huh?" I hope I'm not painting a Nazi sympathizing characature of a penny pinching big nosed Yiddish monster that can't remember his children’s names. My dad really is a borscht belt character. He taught me how to be funny and quick, and taught me "don't take any bullshit from anyone Suzelah" which is sort of a contradiction because his inappropriate jabs are what I would classify as bullshit but wattryagonna do? He is very old school and loveable and funny and its just his way.

My Mother…is shot. My mom owns a yoga retreat in Long Island and is actually quite a well known yogi and health guru. Her focuses are on juice fasting and bending to sniff your own cooch. Total contrast to my father, the 3rd generation Jewish undertaker from Jersey City, whose hobbies include backgammon, yelling at waiters, and answering questions with questions, but somehow it works!

Growing up with these two, who incidentally are the vainest people on the planet (when I was a kid I walked in on them having sex and they were screaming out their own names) focusing so much on appearance and weight and image, it had some effects on me. For one thing, I rarely go out without makeup on, I use my sexuality like a carpenter uses a saw (HEY! I'm not a slut...I'm a people person) and, I admittedly am a bit of an elitist when it comes to handbags. Additionally, as a child, when I was told to go easy on the carbs, I would do the opposite. Binge eating was my teenage fuck you, well so was raiding the liquor cabinet and sneaking out of the house at 16 to be a showgirl, but thats another story. As a result I am always going up and down in weight. Not to point fingers, but it’s their fault that I over eat to begin with, and it’s their fault that I hate myself when I do!

I think an important aspect of a life change is recognizing where you develop your bad habits. I'm done going up and down and blowing hot and cold like a tenement faucet! I want to accept that my mom and dad put a little too much emphasis on the scale and that I have to be ok wherever I’m at. That I might hit it big or a man might love me whether I look like Jayne Mansfield or Chris Farley. This is a shift and an adjustment so I hope I can make it. Now...what the fuck should I have for breakfast?

Bad Bad Girl!

2010-04-15T11:23:00.000-07:00

A shrine to one of my idols. She went up and down on the scale too, enjoyed a powdered donut and a powdered nose once in a blue but was unexpectedly hilarious, never ever boring, oozed sex and because of it was an icon of the 90's. The woman just didn't give a SHIT and lived life by her own rules! I dont know about you but i miss her.

A little too real...(and i'm just too lazy for good grammar)

2010-04-14T10:44:00.000-07:00

So im feeling a bit lighter a bit healthier. Still going, still striving, still moving, still grooving.
What else is in the news.... OOH! Last night i had a dream that i was doin it with Javier Bardem and Penelope was really mad so i fed her a lobster which she ate with the shell still on it "a la" Daryl Hannah in Splash.
Well let's talk! I mean emotionally things have been kind of rocky road (ice just creamed my pants) lately!
All of these changes im making. Hustling like crazy, performing all the time, not smoking not drinking not drugging, not boning, now not binge eating...making a bad girl good is tough work! Theres nothing to numb me now except this tube of tiger balm and that just makes my eyes bug out of my head like a psycho with a thyroid problem. I mean, what kind of comedian would i be if i wasnt clinically depressed. Its a lot of work being Harriet Halloway all the time. The fake eyelashes, being honest and friendly, having that air of "wholesome waywardness", being sexy and precosious, you know...pretending that i like gay people...its a lot!
In reality i really am all of those things, but I also have 0 self esteem, am constantly seeing a shrink, i am a person who cries all the time, and i can't help thinking im a big dumb clown sometimes (apparenly with pies in my face for a completely different reason.) I am one of many people who has the thoughts of: no one will ever accept me, no one will ever know how to love me, the way people treat eachother and all other life on this planet is so scary and appalling so why am i even part of this human race to begin with...blah blah blah, wah wah wah, im a narcassistic baby woman, i know i know.
For me, it's so much easier to take the negative things people say about me more seriously than the positive things. Like someone blogged that i was "just another un funny female comedian" for some reason i can believe that, even though i have ears...i can hear the laughter from the stage, i know logically that its just one persons opinion, but it still cuts like a knife. Then when someone says "Goldie hawn meets Mae West...but funnier" that makes me swoon and lets me know i'm on the right path but, number one, it doesnt have as big of an effect on me as the negative press, and number two, theres that underlying reminder "calm down lady... it could be that maybe you're just a total dildo." I s'pose these thoughts are normal. The trick is to take steps to make the thoughts less frequent, more positive, and taking all of the energy one puts into looking inward and put it outward to people and things with real suffering (although everybodies struggle is valid and real to them. without struggle we'd all be a Hilton sister) I mean, all i know is i LOVE what i do and the only time i really feel good is not when im winning an eating contest, or peeing on peoples cars, or waking up with brett butlers' toe in my mouth, but when im talking about all of it in on a milk crate with a squeeky microphone in some hilbilly honkey tonk. So, i guess im just gonna keep doing it cause the alternative is being the mother in Whats Eating Gibert Grape...although i do love a good bed.
I'm good I'm good...points are good, head is just ok but determination is big.

MY FIRST WEIGH IN AND ROMANCING THE BONE: A WEEK IN REVIEW.

2010-04-12T07:36:00.000-07:00

well today was my weigh in day! Just woke up...took my fist mornings pee and (drum roll pleaaase) I LOST 7 LBS! WEEEEEEEEE

WOW! how gratifying! i gotta say it was not really all that hard and im really happy! This week i got to eat real lasagna, pizza, creamed spinach and french fries while simply just balancing out my points! WW really is fabulous! Can you imadge!

Last week was like text book bi polar disorder! I was skipping through daffodil dew one minute then kicking puppies the next but i made it through!

AND! Last night i had a date!!! Well it was date "ish." Twas with a guy that i go to the movies with once a month and bone and dont talk to again until the next month when we go to the movies and bone. Kind of an ok arrangement. I mean i like movies...and i've been known to bone, so what could be so terrible? We saw Hottub Time Machine (which was my nickname in highschool...you've been a terrific audience!) which was good, well, you know it had its moments, and then i asked him to go home with me! He grinned and said "Aww you know i really want to kid but i cant" and gave me sort of a lackluster smooch on the street. Between doing two fab shows last night, watching my pal Rob Corddry kill it in Hottub Time Machine while sitting next to the scruffiest cutest piece of ass strokin at me legs in the theater, and the little bit of peyote i found in the bottom of my purse, i was feelin foot loose and fancy free! But, i went home alone as usual and I gotta be honest with you, I felt a bit lonely. All of my staff who keep Halloway Industries a float were fast asleep, spooning sweetly in the trundle under my bed (my 14 personal assistants and my maid Hortensia,) and i was all alone. Boneless. I must say i wanted to just eat my brains out at that very moment but i resisted and said to myself..."Harriet Conceptione Louisa Maria Teresa Garcia Ramirez de Arroyo Halloway, tomorrow is your weigh in day! You can't let the fans down! Be greatful for what you have and what you have done so far and keep those feet a climbin!" AND just wait till this joker sees me 43 lbs lighter!

Heres to all of us getting through another week. Whether its easy or whether its hard you got to appreciate the process kids.

Stay tuned
HH

My Head Was Spinning

2010-04-11T09:42:00.000-07:00

Step 2: I joined a gym but they have one requirement...moving (ha cha cha cha)

Hate gyms. Hate people who are addicted to "exercise". get a real addiction you pussy!

SO! i went to spinning class which i happen to like because you are litterally locked in a room for 45 minutes and and forced to burn like 700 calories a pop. Its like sex with a cab driver... its quick, its sweaty, your crying, and afterwards you're kinda sorry you did it and you're glad its over.
I walk into class and i sat on one of the bikes and the seat broke! The instructor changed it while screaming at a packed class to keep pedling. I get back on, and the second seat breaks! The teacher looks at me and says "You got to be kidding me!" into his Blonde Ambition Tour microphone headset . He changes it again, this time while the entire class, which was mostly made up of japs with diamond studs and flat stomachs and their gay lap dogs, were staring at me. Turns out I was the elephant in the room. I swear on a stack of torahs the seat broke a third time!!! The teacher said "listen im really sorry im out of seats i'll tell the management they need to be screwed on tighter...why dont you go and run" I said "you bet your ass the management will hear about this! Someone could really get hurt" and stormed out feigning outrage! Either im heavier than i thought i was or i have a really muscular vagina. Lets hope its the latter.

Went up and did the eliptical with Veruca Salt blasting on my ipod.

Tomorrow is my weigh in day! We'll see if i lost anything!

Love, Harriet

Spanx a lot....

2010-04-08T07:04:00.000-07:00

Check out my sweet ass inner thigh muffin top! Come and get it daddie!

Did i mention its like 90 degrees ouside? Talk about baked clams....

Black and White and bbq sauce all over....

2010-04-06T19:13:00.000-07:00

You gotta think to yourself...what got me here? How did i gain 60 lbs in a year? Thats major stuff! Well i suppose i know. My anthropofobia (fear of people, arent i smart!?) Fat people protect themselves from the outside world with extra cushioning. Is that why black guys like me so much? They like to feel like "aint NO amount of fat bitch gon' git in the way a dis dick! GIT BACK HERE CRACKA!" Are black men emotional corkscrews?

I gotta say...everywhere i go since i gained the weight, black guys have been on me like duct tape on ru pauls balls. They aint afraid all a this!...and guess what? I didnt get this fat not being koo koo for koko puffs!

Day two of weightwatchers went good i think. Well i went two points over.

THE BREAKDOWN:
You see, i get 28 points a day. Every food has a points value so you can have an eclair dipped in drawn butter (what? purely hypothetical) if you wanted too but that would be 16 points. That would mean half of your day is shot on one glistening hot butter soaked pastry product. The good news is that you get an extra 35 points a week you can use or not use for anything you want. sort of like a wild card. Today i used 3 of those 35 on the fucking pathetic bowl of miso soup i had extra and a couple BITES YES BITES I ONLY HAD A COUPLE BITES AND PUT IT AWAY of fat free sugar free frozen yogurt.

AND FUCK YOU SKINNY PEOPLE!
I hate how naturally skinny people say "i fuckin hate fat people...i dont get it why dont they just like...uh... stop eating?" You know what! get off your fucking ignorant high horse I CANT STOP EATING CAUSE MY FATHER RAPED ME! OK? AND MY MOTHER JUST SAT THERE AND WATCHED! SHE DIDNT DO ANYTHING!! MOMMY JUST SAT THERE AND LET HIM DO IT! YOU ANOREXIC SANDLE WEARING QUEEF OF A HUMAN BEING! (pheww... i think i just piddled)

This is no way to live, writing down everything you eat and having a few bites of stuff, but sorry thats the fat mans reality. It will never not be a struggle, will never not be running through our heads...it will always be about portion control and being accountable for every bite that goes into your mouth.

Ended up headlining at Broadway Comedy Club tonight so being on the stage made me feel REALLY happy and lemme tell ya...thats a high you dont get from a banana split.

The Before: 200 lbs

2010-04-05T11:11:00.001-07:00

Join me

2010-04-05T10:06:00.000-07:00

The past two years have been an emotional roller coaster. I loved and I lost, I had ups and I had downs, I ate and I gained. I am now embarking on a new chapter people!

Here at Halloway industries its go big or go home (as you can probably tell by my makeup.) I'm not the type to smoke one cigarette, I'm gonna chain smoke and pretend I'm Lucille ball in her final days. I'm not gonna have one drink, I'm gonna drink a bottle of bourbon, let my mustache grow out and pretend I'm Clark Gable. I'm not gonna do one line of blow, I'm gonna do an 8 ball off of a flaccid penis, which incidentally, is not as easy as it looks. I don't just shop, I bankrupt Madison avenue. I don't eat to feed my hunger i eat to coat the pain inside, and for too long my inner child has been smothered in alfredo sauce and she's mad pissed! On the flip side, if i do lose weight, i lose like 100 lbs in a month by eating boxes of laxatives and living on caffeine. Watta blast! (no pun intended)

This mentality of excess has been channeled in the wrong places for many many years. There has been a lot of struggle in my young life and i suppose being so eager to grow up and leave whatever crap i had to deal with in such a hurry manifested in developing bad excessive habits.

Now, I'm a little older, i packed a whole lot into just a few years, i feel like i got the rebellious teenage crack whore outta my system (well...at least the crack part) and now I'm ready to channel it towards life! I wanna be a success, i wanna be happy, i wanna be accepted, i wanna be rich and i wanna be SKINNY.

Being the fag that i am, I'm going to blog about my weight loss and my lifestyle shift and see what happens. I am using weight watchers because i know it works, i can still eat whatever i want and not feel really all that deprived if i just fit it into my points system. I know that i work best under structure too so, there ya go. I do wish they were paying me for this shit like Jennifer Hudson and that ginger puss Duchess but hey, wattryou gonna do.

Maybe I'll fail, maybe i wont but the point is that I'm not, nor will i ever, be taking shit seriously. My self deprecation is my moneymaker so hopefully i wont get TOO happy. I read somewhere once that Jayne Mansfield said something like "Its the most intelligent people who get depressed" (paraphrasing) so maybe I'm just REALLY smart!

So Join me if you like or if your interested and watch the progress and do it along with me if you want to or need to. ENOUGH IS ENOUGH LETS SHAKE IT OFF AND FUCKIN GO!!

Here we go kiddies! weeeeeeeeee!