Well, I SUCKED!

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???

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...

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

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?

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!

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

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!