get a little action in this town?’ and he took me to Murray’s office.”
I can’t stand stupid. Jennifer Aniston has dated, been cheated on and dumped by almost every man west of Phoenix and yet she’s always shocked when the shit hits the fan. And what about that psychotic bitch Mia Farrow? When she found out that Woody Allen was schtupping her daughter, Soon Yi, she said she was stunned. Never saw it coming. How is that possible? Not three days earlier Mia caught him jerking off to Flower Drum Song . He wore soy sauce as cologne. He’d go to the zoo and stare lovingly at the giant pandas, Ching Ching and Ling Ling.
APRIL 27
Dear Diary:
The dumb parade continues. I went to the bookstore to buy the Jewish version of Fifty Shades of Grey , Thirty-Three Shades of Grey (we always get a third off), and the guy at the Help Desk was helpless. I asked him if my favorite author, Ann Rule, had any new books coming out. I said, “True crime.” He said, “Is that the title?” I said, “No, the genre.” He stared. So I said, “Category,” and he went on the computer to look. I then asked him if they had Paul Anka’s new autobiography. He said, “Who’s the author?” I said, “Mark Twain.” He said, “Is it new?” I explained who Mark Twain was and he said, “Well, how should I know that? It was before my time.” I said, “The Stone Age is before my time, but I’ve heard of it.” He said, “Cool.”
APRIL 28
Dear Diary:
Damn, I was woken up today at 6:50 a.m., and it’s my day off. Why? Because the gardener, Jose, that adorable wetback who’s in this country illegally, thought that would be a good time for mowing and blowing. I don’t get it. Even John Travolta doesn’t start blowing until noon.
I love illegals, mainly because they can’t complain. Who are they going to complain to? Having illegals is as close to slavery as we can get in this country since Abe “Boy Did I Make a Mistake” Lincoln messed it up for all of us. Okay, fine, I agree: slavery was totally wrong for the African Americans, but why shelve a great program because it didn’t work for one group? Believe me, there are a lot of Kazakhstanis who would love a free trip to this country in accommodations similar to the Carnival Cruise ship, The Commode of the Sea . And when they land here they have a warm bed in a perfectly nice closet and three delicious meals of leftovers a day in exchange for twenty hours of labor. (Yes, twenty hours—it takes time to really brush down a vintage Chanel suede cape.)
APRIL 29
Dear Diary:
Thought for the day: Words of kindness are wildly overrated. Someone today in the Piggly Wiggly said, “Let this old lady go first. She looks like she’s fading.” Everyone moved and let me though and I thought, “Too easy, Jell-O heads. Kind words are cheap; if you want to be nice to me, pay for my fucking groceries.” You can tell me I’m a piece of human garbage, a complete waste of good skin, one of God’s worst efforts, and as long as your check clears, you and I are pals. I’m thinking of doing a needlepoint on this. I already have a pillow that says, “Don’t expect praise without envy until you are dead.” I keep it on the bed in my guest room, right next to the pillow that says, “Don’t sit on my face if you have dandruff.”
You know what they say: “Once you go Jew, there’s no other screw!”
MAY 1
Dear Diary:
Today is May Day and we’re supposed to celebrate it by dancing around a May Pole. I’ve never actually seen a May Pole, let alone people who danced around one. The closest thing like that I’ve ever seen was a group of soccer fans surrounding Victoria Beckham, marveling that she had the strength to stand up.
MAY 2
Dear Diary:
Saw Sally Field on TV tonight selling Boniva, the pill for osteoporosis. This is a commercial I not only wanted, but would have been so right for, as my bones snap so often people think I’m doing a commercial for peanut brittle. Sally says,
I can’t stand stupid. Jennifer Aniston has dated, been cheated on and dumped by almost every man west of Phoenix and yet she’s always shocked when the shit hits the fan. And what about that psychotic bitch Mia Farrow? When she found out that Woody Allen was schtupping her daughter, Soon Yi, she said she was stunned. Never saw it coming. How is that possible? Not three days earlier Mia caught him jerking off to Flower Drum Song . He wore soy sauce as cologne. He’d go to the zoo and stare lovingly at the giant pandas, Ching Ching and Ling Ling.
APRIL 27
Dear Diary:
The dumb parade continues. I went to the bookstore to buy the Jewish version of Fifty Shades of Grey , Thirty-Three Shades of Grey (we always get a third off), and the guy at the Help Desk was helpless. I asked him if my favorite author, Ann Rule, had any new books coming out. I said, “True crime.” He said, “Is that the title?” I said, “No, the genre.” He stared. So I said, “Category,” and he went on the computer to look. I then asked him if they had Paul Anka’s new autobiography. He said, “Who’s the author?” I said, “Mark Twain.” He said, “Is it new?” I explained who Mark Twain was and he said, “Well, how should I know that? It was before my time.” I said, “The Stone Age is before my time, but I’ve heard of it.” He said, “Cool.”
APRIL 28
Dear Diary:
Damn, I was woken up today at 6:50 a.m., and it’s my day off. Why? Because the gardener, Jose, that adorable wetback who’s in this country illegally, thought that would be a good time for mowing and blowing. I don’t get it. Even John Travolta doesn’t start blowing until noon.
I love illegals, mainly because they can’t complain. Who are they going to complain to? Having illegals is as close to slavery as we can get in this country since Abe “Boy Did I Make a Mistake” Lincoln messed it up for all of us. Okay, fine, I agree: slavery was totally wrong for the African Americans, but why shelve a great program because it didn’t work for one group? Believe me, there are a lot of Kazakhstanis who would love a free trip to this country in accommodations similar to the Carnival Cruise ship, The Commode of the Sea . And when they land here they have a warm bed in a perfectly nice closet and three delicious meals of leftovers a day in exchange for twenty hours of labor. (Yes, twenty hours—it takes time to really brush down a vintage Chanel suede cape.)
APRIL 29
Dear Diary:
Thought for the day: Words of kindness are wildly overrated. Someone today in the Piggly Wiggly said, “Let this old lady go first. She looks like she’s fading.” Everyone moved and let me though and I thought, “Too easy, Jell-O heads. Kind words are cheap; if you want to be nice to me, pay for my fucking groceries.” You can tell me I’m a piece of human garbage, a complete waste of good skin, one of God’s worst efforts, and as long as your check clears, you and I are pals. I’m thinking of doing a needlepoint on this. I already have a pillow that says, “Don’t expect praise without envy until you are dead.” I keep it on the bed in my guest room, right next to the pillow that says, “Don’t sit on my face if you have dandruff.”
You know what they say: “Once you go Jew, there’s no other screw!”
MAY 1
Dear Diary:
Today is May Day and we’re supposed to celebrate it by dancing around a May Pole. I’ve never actually seen a May Pole, let alone people who danced around one. The closest thing like that I’ve ever seen was a group of soccer fans surrounding Victoria Beckham, marveling that she had the strength to stand up.
MAY 2
Dear Diary:
Saw Sally Field on TV tonight selling Boniva, the pill for osteoporosis. This is a commercial I not only wanted, but would have been so right for, as my bones snap so often people think I’m doing a commercial for peanut brittle. Sally says,
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