New Potluck

Archaeologists recently discovered a 2,700 year old tomb in China, and when they opened it, they found 28 ounces of pot! That fat bag of pot was in the tomb for almost 3,000 years. And 15 minutes later, it was gone! The archaeologists were quoted as saying, “It was a little stemy, but the bud was kind!”

The story even described the pot as already prepared for smoking. I guess the last thing you want to do when you wake up from the dead is have to roll your own joints!


I am pot head. For years, I have been using Listerine strips to cover up the smell of pot on my breath when I go out in public. Then, I gave one to my husband the other day, and I realized that it made him smell like he’d been drinking. All this time, I have been trying to hide the fact that I’m a pot head, and all I’ve done is make people think that I’m an alcoholic. So, everyone- I’m not an alcoholic! I'm a pot head. Let’s get it straight!


I’ve been with my husband for 20 years, and I have grown very dependent on him. I don’t know what I would do if he died before me. I couldn’t handle it. So, I just lead a way less healthy lifestyle than him so I die first. For example, he rides his bike to work, and I lie on the couch all day. He eats a piece of pie, and I eat two. He takes vitamins, so I smoke crack. I think I have it covered.

But, what if he did die before me? What would I do? I think I would stay in bed for 6 months, then I would fuck little boys for 6 months and then kill myself. I’m just kidding. I would fuck little boys for a year.


My husband made me watch the international break dancing competition. There were teams from countries around the world. At the end, the first AND third place went to South Korea. Japan got second, and America didn’t even place! That is just another example of Asians taking away American jobs!


Over the holidays, we watched one of my very favorites, “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown” with my British friend Kate. She had NEVER seen Charlie Brown before! She had no idea what was going on. It was so weird to have to catch someone up on Charlie Brown. I was like, “Ok, you see that girl Lucy? She’s a bitch. And that football kick is never going to happen.” She couldn’t understand why everyone was so mean to the bald kid. Come to think if it, me either. Poor Charlie Brown!


I was watching the CNN show Nancy Grace about the Casey Anthony case in Florida. The guest host, Jane Velez-Mitchell said, “Do you think it’s so hard for people to believe that she killed her two year old daughter because she is young and pretty? Do you think people would believe it more if she were fat?” What the fuck?? Fat people kill babies? Is that what you are trying to say? I fucking resent that you skinny bitch! What? Fat people are in a long line at McDonald’s and they are like, “Fuck this shit! I’m gonna kill me a baby!”


So, George Bush got some shoes thrown at him by a reporter in Iraq. It was awesome. Shoe #1 came flying at Bush’s head, and he ducked. Shoe #2 came flying at Bush’s head, and he ducked again. The Secret Service didn’t even move. They said, “Hell, we never said we would take a shoe for him.” The reporter might get 8 years in prison for the incident. The good news is, when he gets out, he has a multi-million dollar deal with Nike.


My mama had 5 kids before she was 28 years old. No wonder she was crazy! I can’t believe she didn’t drown one of us in the bathtub. I can assure you, if I had 5 kids at 28, there would have been at least one “mishap”. Come to think of it, maybe there used to be 6 of us.

I Worship Comedy

I’m not a religious person. When you think about it, the only thing I really worship is comedy.

I don’t go to church; I go to comedy clubs.

I don’t recite prayers; I recite jokes.

My prophets are Richard Pryor, Lenny Bruce, Lily Tomlin, and St. George Carlin.

In my church, we don’t pass wine. But, there is a two-drink minimum.

We don’t have wafers; we have chicken tenders.

My bible is my joke notebook. It is after all, the word of ME.

I do not have a crucifix; I have a microphone.

We do not confess, but sometimes we bomb.

In my church, Thou Shalt Kill!

We do not sing; we laugh.

I do not have a pulpit; I have a stage.

I do not crave salvation, but I’d love a little applause!

Can I get an “Amen”?

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New Potluck

Obama won! YAY!

I was walking through the campus of CSULA the day after the election. Everyone was so happy, laughing and greeting each other. Even I had a spring in my step. Then I felt a strange feeling in my stomach. It was the total absence of anxiety. And I thought to myself, “this must be what HOPE feels like.” And then someone stole my wallet.

Not everyone is happy. My daddy emailed me and said, "God help us!" He said, "These blacks are really milking it for all it’s worth." I said, "Yeah, and for two whole days now." Haven’t we white people milked it for like 400-500 years?

Obama won but so did Prop 8 banning gay marriage. I guess Americans can only handle one good idea at a time.

Prop 8 passed with the help of millions of dollars from the Mormon and Catholic Church. Are we sure it’s the Muslims that hate us for our freedom?

People said, well the bible says it’s wrong. Oh, the bible said so. Oh, sorry. Ok, let’s pass all of our laws based on the bible then.

Prop 11-No shellfish
Prop 30-Institutes stoning for adultery
Prop 800-You can’t touch a woman while she’s menstruating.
And don’t even get me started on coveting your neighbor’s wife!

You don’t want a separation of Church and State? Move to Iran.

Even Prince came out against gay marriage. You know what? Fuck you, you little purple androgynous motherfucker. You have made a fortune pretending that you suck dick. I’m taking him off my Ipod. Hey Prince, this is what it sounds like when Doves stop selling albums.

This week 104 high ranking military brass released a signed statement asking for don’t ask don’t tell to be struck down and to let gays serve openly in the military. Evidentally, the military has had to lower its standards and let in low IQs and felons so that they can kick out good gay soldiers. They are letting Lenny from Of Mice and Men serve so that can keep out Ellen.

A Christian group came out against the statement and said that the military can not handle openly gay people in their troops. The military responded, yes we can. The Christians said, No you can’t; now shut up and go take a bullet for us!


On a related note, this week saw the naming of the first female four star general. Let’s see, 1776-we declare Independence from England, 1920-women get the vote; 2008-first female 4 star general. Now that’s what I call speedy progress. Wow. Who knows where we will be in another 100 years? Maybe vice president!

I think gay marriage would be great for the failing economy. Think about it: weddings mean banquet hall rentals, florists and caterers, dresses, tuxes, rings, honeymoon trips, gifts, etc. Wow. That’s a lot of spending. In this economy I think gay marriage and the legalization of marijuana might be just what the doctor ordered. The last Depression, it took us a war to get out of it. Maybe this time we just need to get high and get gay married.

There is a new mayoral race in Jerusalem. A rabbi is running against a “secular millionaire.” An old women interviewed on NPR said she is not voting for the rabbi because she does not want Jerusalem to get too religious! Dang. That’s like saying you don’t want Africa to get too black.

I also heard on NPR that Jews are pissed cause Mormons keep baptizing victims of the Holocaust by proxy. Mormons said 'we aren’t saying your religion is wrong, we just want to make sure you don’t go to hell'. The Jews responded, we are the chosen people for Christ’s sake! I’m glad to hear I’m not the only one who gets annoyed when people pray for me.

This must be what Hope feels like

I haven’t written about Obama’s victory because I have been in a state of shock and bliss these last few days. Every time Obama won a state, Chris and I cried. When it was announced that he finally won the presidency, we wept like babies and have barely stopped. I have cried almost every time I think about it since then. The day after the election, I was walking through the Cal State LA campus after turning in my comp exam (my last chore for my Masters degree-yay!), and everyone was in such a good mood. Everywhere I looked, people were smiling, laughing and happily greeting each other. I have never seen the campus look like that before. I was feeling so optimistic (an emotion that is very unusual for me), I was almost skipping. I felt this strange feeling inside; it was like an utter lack of anxiety (which is my usual state). Suddenly, it occurred to me: this must be what hope feels like.

Growing up in a small town in Georgia, I know racism. There is a nasty poison that has been swallowed by some white people in the South-that every single thing they don’t have or any opportunity they never got was because a black person took it away from them. I’m not sure where this idea came from since every president up until now has been a white male, and Fortune 500 companies aren’t exactly lacking white faces. The Man is white, or at least he was until last Tuesday. But, many whom you would consider otherwise good people have such a dislike and distrust of black people, other people of color (although in the South there aren’t that many) and foreigners. One of the reasons I moved from Georgia to Los Angeles is because I have always felt out of place with the attitudes of the South (including my family).

When Obama won, I got an email from my daddy (who I have fought with about Obama every time I have talked to lately) and the subject line read: God help us all! He wrote “I know we need change, but a Black president-that’s going too far! You are all wrong.” I guess he means the 52 million Americans that voted for Obama. On the phone the next day he said, “I’m so damn tired of hearing about Martin Luther King. Those blacks are really milking this for all it’s worth.” Yeah. For 2 whole days, too. Um, haven’t we white people been milking it for 400-500 years?

On a sad note, I was very unhappy that Prop 8, the ban on gay marriage, passed in California. I am ashamed of my California brothers and sisters. A large number of minorities that voted for Obama (70% black and 53% Hispanic) voted for the ban. Minorities (and all women) need to recognize that this is the same discrimination that they have suffered. Discrimination is discrimination. Being gay is not a choice (and even if it were, that is no excuse for not having equal rights).

And I am sick of hearing that the Bible says being gay is wrong. It is 2008 in America. “Because the Bible says so” is no longer an acceptable reason to pass a law that affects people’s lives. You believe in the Bible. I don’t. You don’t get to pass laws about my life based on your faerie tales. If you don’t mind having no separation between church and state, move to Iran. The founding fathers were not hard-core Christians, some were even Atheists, and they did not construct a Christian nation. Freedom of religion. My religion says gay people are ok. I am always so amazed at how a godless secular heathen like me is way more loving to my fellow man than most Christians I have met. What would Jesus do? He would love everyone-the black president and gay people who want to marry the person they love.

The Skinny

Two years ago, I lost 100 lbs and last year, I gained 50 of it back. That’s ok, I’m an optimist. I choose to think of my ass as ½ full!

But I feel like it’s time to talk about the whole journey and tell the truth. I gained weight because being skinny was not what I thought it would be.

I have looked like this all of my life. Like most people, I hate myself. When I got skinny, I found out that I still hated myself. Only then I hated myself but I was really really hungry! And I was like, “You mean to tell me that my self-esteem has no correlation to the size of my ass?”

Being skinny was a mindfuck. I have always thought that I was street smart. But, when I got skinny it was like moving to a different street. I didn’t know any of the rules!

For one thing, everyone was nice to me. It was creepy! I couldn’t tell who the assholes were.

I’d walk into a store like Home Depot, all the male employees would come out, “Can I help you? Can I help you?” Damn. Who knew it was so easy to buy a hammer?

My male friends got all weird on me. Like I have always been very flirty. I would say things like, “Hey we ought to hook up sometime.” The guy would be like “Yeah, we should.” Then I got skinny and I’d say, “Hey we ought to hook up sometime.” They’d be like, “give me two minutes I’ll bring the car around.” No wait! I was kidding. We don’t have to consummate every joke!

Then all my guy friends started giving me the full- body hug. I didn’t even know that existed. They all were touching and squeezing and full-body hugging. It made me not want to go to open mics anymore. God I thought comedians were annoying enough.

I worked out 2 hours a day. The more I worked out, the more my guy friends got touchy/feely. I felt like I was in training for a date rape!

Suddenly everyone noticed me. It was like going from being invisible to being famous over night. One day, I’m sitting in a restaurant, writing in my joke notebook, and some guy walks up to my table. “Nice journal. Where’d you get it?” I start going “Oh, just Target or some place like that,” then I look down and see it’s just a composition book. Nice journal? I fell for nice journal? God, leave me alone! Can’t a girl sit alone in a Holiday Burger and wait for her drug dealer in peace?

This guy almost ran over me in the parking lot one day commenting on my “I heart Eagle Rock” bumper sticker. “You love Eagle Rock? I love Eagle Rock! Do you live in Eagle Rock? I live in Eagle Rock” I’m like “damn that dude really loved Eagle Rock.” My best friend Sally said “he loved what you loved. If you loved Jesus, he would’ve loved Jesus. If you loved Darwin, he would’ve loved Darwin. He didn’t heart Eagle Rock. He hearts your booty.” I found out that when a guy walks up to you, you have to shut him down immediately. Now I know why Sally is such a bitch!

People were constantly commenting on my body. “Oh my God, let me look at you. Turn around. How much do you weigh now?” I felt like I was on the auction block. I kept waiting for someone to ask to examine my teeth. I was like, “Um, could we please talk about something other than my ass?”


Also, I felt like I had switched sides and joined the enemy. People acted like I was now “in the club” and started to make fun of fat people in front on me. One day a good friend called me a skinny bitch. At first I was like “thanks!” Then I realized, oh wait, that’s bad.

I actually became even sluttier, if you can believe it. I exhausted my husband. I thought he was going to take out a restraining order to keep me 50 feet from the bed!

People acted really weird when I gained weight again. Like it was some kind of personal affront against them. I’m like, “I’m miserable, people! Give me a break! I didn’t give up cheese for this!”


I mean I even had stalkers. In fact, that part never changed. I still have stalkers. When you think about it, my stalkers were the only ones who really stuck with me though all this. So, thanks crazy guys!

Help! I don’t have a penis!

I just got off the phone with Wachovia bank. I recently bought myself a VW Beetle. I was calling to confirm that Wachovia received the insurance information that they were requesting, and that I had the insurance company fax to them. To my surprise, they REFUSED to confirm if they received the information or not until my husband called them and told them they could speak to me. Here is the strange part: it’s my car, my loan! I bought it without my husband even being there!! I put him on the loan as a co-signer. I am the primary borrower. He showed up at the end to sign his name when every thing was done.

When he called Wachovia, he sternly told them that it is my car, not his. The woman at Wachovia said, “Well, you are a co-signer, so you will be responsible if she doesn’t pay.” He said, “Yes, I am the CO-signer; she is the borrower. Why am I the only one listed on the loan?” The response was, “Well, Mr. Oliver, that’s how we do it here at Wachovia.”

That’s how they do it? Based on what? I know what. My husband possesses something I will never have - a PENIS. What other reason could it be? Think this is an isolated incident? It’s not. Keep reading.

I have filed joint taxes with my husband for 17 years. I am the one who goes to H&R Block every year and has the taxes done (usually without him going at all). I take the papers to him when they are complete, and he signs his part. Recently, I noticed that H&R Block has him listed as the “taxpaper,” and I am listed as the “spouse.” WTF? I asked them why. H&R Block replied “That’s how we do it.” I asked, “Based on what?” Here are the facts: alphabetically my name comes before his, my social security number is numerically before his, I make more money than he does (primary breadwinner), and THEY HAVE NEVER EVEN MET HIM! How did they respond? “Well, he’s the husband.”

I have done everything I can in my life to be a strong, independent woman. I own my own business, have bought every car-and our freaking house in Georgia-by myself without my husband’s involvement. I handle all the bills, manage the household. I have a Master’s degree for God’s sake. But, I will never have the one thing I guess I need to be considered a “borrower” or a “taxpayer.” I am now, and may forever be, THE SPOUSE. Well, they can suck my non-existent dick!

Don't Panic!

What I Believe

Republican VP pick Sarah Palin has spoken. Now it’s clear that on both sides there are young, charismatic newcomers and really old experienced white guys. We’re even. But are we? Now it’s time to figure out who supports what you believe.

What I believe…

I believe in choice. A woman should have the right to decide if she wants/needs to have an abortion.

I believe in gay rights, including marriage.

I believe in science, including Evolution, stem-cell research, sex education, and photo-synthesis.

I believe that torture is wrong, no matter who does it, or what border they fall behind.

I believe in Universal Healthcare.

I believe in the separation of Church and State.

I believe that we are all one people with the same rights, even if we are considered “illegal.”

I believe that a man who was born poor, raised by a single mother, and earned his way into Harvard is not an elite. But, you can’t make a rich daddy’s boy with bad grades who gets into Yale not elite just by putting a cowboy hat on him.

I believe that taxes should be used for social services, schools, and infrastructure- not war.

I believe people should get tax breaks, not corporations.

I believe that if you don’t know how many houses you have, it’s not surprising you think the economy is fine.

I believe if you really support the troops, you will not deploy them in unjust wars.

I believe that Saddam Hussein and Osama Bin Laden are not the same guy.

I believe that fundamentalist Christians are just as scary as fundamentalist Muslims.

I believe that pandering to large corporations is strangling this country.

I believe in preserving the environment.

I believe we should not give up our civil liberties out of fear. I am not afraid. “Give me liberty or give me death!”

I believe that lies are getting us nowhere.

I believe that your vote counts the same as mine. Please don’t just listen to sound bites. Do your homework. Find the candidates that support what You believe.

Sarah Palin

Attention Women:

Sarah Palin is not Hillary Clinton! Yes, she has a vagina. But, she wants to keep the rest of us from using ours. She is staunchly pro-life (unless you are a polar bear).
She is against everything Hillary has fought for her entire life!

Sarah Palin has 5 kids, including a special-needs infant. Isn’t she busy? My mama had 5 kids and she barely had time to pee, much less run for Vice President (but, if she did, she would know what the VP does all day, unlike Palin). And, everyone I know who has 5 kids is crazy from it. I can see balancing work and family with one or two kids, but 5?

Sarah Palin is against sex-education. I can think of at least on 17-year old Alaskan high school girl who would have benefited from the condom talk: Palin’s daughter. I raised two teenagers myself, and somehow managed to have no teen pregnancies occur. I guess us Atheist heathens just have better family values.

Palin said that the US soldiers in Iraq were fighting a war for God. Um, isn’t that called a JIHAD?? She also said that it was God’s will to have the $30 million gas pipeline in Alaska she was for. It is also God’s will for me to have that new pair of red pumps I’ve been eyeing, so could you all pray for that, please?

Palin and McCain will take away a woman's right to choose. If you can't remember or can't imagine what this country was like for women before Roe VS Wade, I suggest you watch the documentary "Lake of Fire.” Poor women desperate to terminate an unwanted pregnancy would often die trying to do it themselves. Not rich women. There was always a doctor who would take care of them.




You know why women never had much of a place in American society until the last few decades? It's because we were having babies until we literally dropped dead. It’s kinda hard to hang out in the basement for 10 years perfecting the phonogram when you have 12 kids hanging off your tits.

Women- do not fall for that glass ceiling crap they are spouting. She will break that glass on the backs of us all.


WE WILL NOT GO BACK! I'll make a deal with you Republicans: you can keep your guns as long as you keep your laws off my body. You have the right to bear arms. I have the right not to bear a child! YOU CAN HAVE MY ABORTION WHEN YOU PRY IT FROM MY COLD DEAD HANDS!

Pot O' Jokes

I think the fact that my parents don't believe in Evolution and I do... proves it's true.

A woman I know told a reporter that is doing a story on me that I could "drink you under the table." (What kind of fucked up thing is that to say to a reporter?) I said, "Me"? "I don't drink." She was like, "That's not what I heard." I said, "Are you sure she didn't say I could smoke you under the table... or I would DO you under the table?" The more I tried to defend myself, the more I sounded like someone in denial. I wanted to shout, "I'm not an alcoholic! I swear. I'm a pothead! Get it straight, damn it."

I found out that my daddy just went on a date. Then I heard that the highest rate of STDs right now is among Seniors. Shit. Now I have to have the condom talk with my daddy? He didn't even have it with me! I just got used to talking to my kids about sex; I can't talk to my daddy. Can't I just GET an STD instead? Please!

Tuesday's Earthquake

I was in the shower when the Earthquake hit. The whole tub started shaking (like Nature’s Jacuzzi). I was like, “Do I jump out or rinse off?” Then I thought, “I don’t care what happens, the water might turn off, and I can’t survive the aftermath with Dove bodywash in my private parts.” And I know my family. They would never give up their emergency earthquake water to get soap out of my patutie.

I couldn’t remember what to do. Do I lie down in the bath tub? No, that’s for a Tornado. Do I tape up the windows? No, that’s a Hurricane. Do I duck and cover? No, that’s for a nuclear bomb. I had no idea what to do for an Earthquake. So, I just stopped, dropped, and rolled…and played dead.

Everything was ok, but we did lose some valuables. We lost a tiki mug and my Janis Joplin doll. Which was really sad, cause I’m 40, and what does it say about my life that THOSE are my valuables?

Family Potluck

I just spent a week in Florida visiting my husband’s family. I brought my joke notebook, but unfortunately, my in-laws are so nice that I couldn’t write any jokes! They are so sweet and positive that it’s creepy! After a few days, I couldn’t handle it. I was so out of sorts, I had to call my family… so they could criticize me stat!

That’s why I used to get freaked out by Leave it to Beaver. Nothing bad ever happened. No one ever yelled. Wally & Beaver were always scared their dad was gonna “clobber” them, but did they EVER get hit? Not even during sweeps! I used to get beat once a week with a leather strap whether I needed it or not. My mama shot my daddy once. That’s the sitcom I want to see!

At dinner the first night, we are sitting there with Chris’ parents, grandmother, brother, his wife and two kids and suddenly Chris’ daddy goes, “oh, I have something you might want. This guy I know gave it to me and I have no use for it.” He gets up from the table, goes into his room, comes back and throws a baggie on the table in front of everyone with 3 joints in it! He goes, “you have a use for this, right?” My husband and I just sat there with our mouths open. He kept going, “you can use this right? Can you use this?” Finally I said, “yes, we can use it. Thanks!” And everyone acted completely normal. I kept waiting for Aston Kutcher to jump out and tell me I’ve been punked (or Allen Funt depending on your age). It was shitty pot, btw, but it was totally worth it!

I just found out what my family in Georgia really thinks about me. They think I think I am better than them. That is really surprising to me. I always just assumed that they knew I was better than them!

Obama

I’m for Obama now. I voted for Hilary, and I supported her till the end (even when it seemed like she was beating a dead horse). I really wanted her to be president, ½ because I dig her, and ½ because I really wanted to see the first woman president. I was a child when Geraldine Ferrara was on the Democratic ticket for VP, and I didn’t think I would be this old to see even a chance of it again. Maybe next time it will be me. (I did just get my Masters in Public Administration last week.)

But now it is time for Hilary supporters to rally behind Obama. It’s over people. I know a lot of you are threatening to vote for McCain, and I beg you to pull your head out of your ass, I mean reconsider. I will give you the same advice I gave my daddy just yesterday:

When you listen to Obama and McCain speak, close your eyes. Forget that Obama is black; forget he has a funny name you can’t pronounce. Forget your fears that he is a secret Muslim (I wouldn’t care if he were as long as he wasn’t a Fundamentalist. We have had 8 years of Fundamentalism in the White House and it scares the shit out of me even when it’s called Christianity). Forget McCain is an old white guy that looks like he hangs out at the Moose Lodge (trust me, he doesn’t). Just listen. Listen to what they are for and against.

Obama’s policies are a lot closer to Clinton than McCain’s. I know that McCain is not Bush, but he is drinking the Kool-Aide and it’s not the cool kind. He is pandering to the far right to get elected, and he has modified some of his past beliefs to gain their support. We don’t need another pro-war, pro-life, pro-rich, pro-pissing off the rest of the world administration. I’m sure McCain is a nice guy, and he has done a lot of reaching across the aisle in the Senate. But, I am ready to see America as it used to be: a country that doesn’t torture people, doesn’t attack other countries for no reason, one that has health care for everyone, and clean air and water. If you are a Republican, vote for McCain if you wish (but consider Obama please). If you are a Democrat, do not betray us and put another Republican in the White House. Let the rest of the world look at us and see that we really are a melting pot and that the decisions of the past 8 years don’t represent us.

Let’s end the reign of the white guy! Off to buy an Obama bumper sticker now…

Potluck of the Week

I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth. I was born with a plastic spork. And it wasn’t in my mouth!

You know how people always say their cooking is made with the special ingredient of love? My mama had a special ingredient, too. She cooked with spite.

My friend likes guys that are mean to her. Not me; I like nice guys. She said, “Well what about the boy that pulled your hair in kindergarten?” I said, “Even at 5, I knew that was a red flag!”

I just turned 40. My niece called me and said “You’re over the hill!” I said, “I like it on this side of the hill. There’s lots of money and self-esteem over here.”

I Blog, Therefore I Am

Potluck of the Week

I am about to celebrate my 20^th year in comedy. My comedy career is almost old enough to drink. My comedy career is old enough to have its own comedy career. And that comedy career has had enough time to be more successful than mine.

I am the luckiest woman in the world. I am married to the one man in LA that hates sports and does not harbor a secret obsession with skinny Asian chicks. Thank God I’m somebody’s type. Gotta love a man that likes big boobies more than basketball!

This guy called me up and said, “I was just listening to Aerosmith and I thought about you.” Yeah, if you listen to Aerosmith, you are bound to think of a chick my age. No one ever said to me, “I was thinking of you when I was listening to Fallout Boy.”

I don’t let myself ever fantasize about anyone else when I am having sex with my husband. I think it’s disrespectful. Now, masturbation is a different story. That’s my time!

In 2001, our phone rang one night and the next day two teenagers were on a plane from GA to move in with us. Now we screen our calls.

I have been in a normal, stable relationship for so long that I thought I wasn’t crazy anymore. But, recently, I got a crush on a 26 year old boy and I found out that when you poke crazy with a stick, it will get up and play no matter how long it’s been asleep.

So this guy I have a crush on says to me, “I’m not a boob man. My type is tall, thin, and brunette.” Great. The anti-me! You forgot young…and male.

I’m reading Eckart Tolle’s book “A New Earth”. It’s all about being in the moment and the Power of Now. I keep trying to stay in the moment. Ok, I’m in the moment right now. Wait, now. No, now, I mean now. Now. I’m in the moment now. Damn it!

A lot of my friends’ mothers were so critical of their weight growing up that they got eating disorders. My mother didn’t give me an eating disorder. She just hated me as a whole. She took the holistic approach to child rearing.

Like all couples, when my husband and I first got married, we had to work out the kinks of living together. Consequently, one night we got in a big fight and I threw a knife at him (one of the kinks). It did not hit him! It hit our dog! It stabbed her in the back and she started yelling and bleeding. So we put her in the car and drove like crazy to the emergency animal hospital. When we got there the doctor demanded to know how it happened. Uh. Um. I said something about loading the dishwasher and the dog running past and knocking the knife out of my hand. I knew it was a bad story, but I didn’t know I would need a story! The guy was very suspicious and for a minute I thought he was going to call Dog Protective Services on me. I could see myself in jail and someone asking “What are you in for?” Uh, knifing the dog. I just wanted to yell out, “I swear to God, I was just trying to stab my husband!”

Found Joke

I just switched over to a new joke notebook that I bought a while back. When I opened it, I found a joke I had written in it and forgot about. Yay! It's like putting on a jacket and finding money in the pocket. So, without further adieu, the "found" joke:

Recently, I went on the Sallie Mae website to get some info on my student loan. I had to create a log-in name and password, and then it asked me a series of questions that they could ask me later if I forget my password. I was expecting the question “what is your mother's maiden name” and even “what was your first pet,” but I was not prepared for “What is your biggest fear?” WTF?

First of all, I had to run down a whole list to figure out my biggest fear, hmmm….what am I afraid of: let’s see…there’s people, places, things, nouns in general really, grocery stores, Republicans, dying alone, snakes. Snakes! That’s my biggest fear. So I typed it in and then I thought. That’s a lot of information for Sallie Mae to have. They know my social security number, where I live, and now my biggest fear! Fuck, George Orwell was right. What if Sallie Mae puts a snake in my house so they can steal my identity? Oh, shit. I think I have a new biggest fear!

Potuck of the Week

So this guy says to me, “Face it, men age like wine and women age like milk.” I have to admit, there is some truth to that. I have never seen a wine that could get it up either.

I finally learned how to text! I’m getting good, too. Now, I can just as quickly get pissed off at something you said in a text as over the phone or email.

So, this same guy asks me what I think about Obama’s new speech about people in the Midwest clinging to guns and religion. I said, “Well, I agree with him, but I’m sure they don’t want to hear it.” He goes, “So if you have (have?) a beautiful woman and she gains weight, can she get mad if you tell her to lay off the double-doubles?”

Well it depends. Did she ask you your fucking opinion on anything? I don’t think so. What if you have a man with a little dick? Can you tell him his dick is too small? What if he doesn’t make enough money? Can you tell his sorry ass that? Go ahead and tell “your” woman to lay off the double-doubles. Then there will be no in- and- out for you for a while. You can jack your own box. I need a man who can Supersize me. He goes, “Are we still talking about Obama?” I’m like, “Who?” I would never elect to be with a guy like that. All that conversation did was make me want a double-double.

Have you ever been so pissed off at someone you couldn’t even masturbate to them? Me, either, but it was close!

I’m so paranoid, whenever I fantasize about someone, I have to imagine where my husband is and where the kids are so I’m not getting busted in the fantasy. Then, I think, “Ok, imagine you are at his house…now... where’s his mom?” (cougar joke)

Cougaring

The cougar is back in the cage. I am done. I’m out. I give up. I’m throwing in the towel. I have officially had enough. I have had enough of the drama, the hating on old people, the “me me me” attitude. Don’t they know it’s all about me me me? I am not your mama. I’m your sugar mama. There is a difference fucker. I am not here to stroke you and never be stroked in return. It’s not enough for you to show up and look good and throw me a bone every now and then. If I were a dog, that’d be great. I’m not. You should be happy to be with a woman like me. I am the comedy guru of Pasadena! Don’t you know who I am?

Sally writes: Another said Cougar has renounced her feline status. Sally Mullins has decided that No Cunt For Young Men will be the big winner at her box office this season. After a Superbowl weekend/cougar party debacle, in which a 23 year old fell asleep with his hand on her tit and ran out her room the next morning, Mullins has decided not to prowl for men in their twenties. Other incidents included a 25 year old who repeatedly cancelled so he could take naps and a 32 year old who kept calling her "Cougar Momma" incessantly. "He was a bit long in the tooth to be making me the saber tooth tiger,' complains Mullins- who got a 34 ½ year old in the door the day after her cougar party to get the job done." I had to buy some coke, but by golly he worked his ass off." Says ex-cougar Mullins, "30 plus guys know shit like this (points to vagina) doesn't grow on trees."

Why Men Are Better Than Boys

1. They don’t call you m’am.
2. They know booty doesn’t grow on trees.
3. If you throw them a piece of ass, they will take it and be grateful.
4. They occasionally pay for at least their ½.
5. They don’t forget to text (they forget to call).
6. They don’t ignore you on myspace because they don’t even know what that is.
7. They don’t think they are going to be the next big thing; they know they’re not.
8. They newness of alcohol has worn off.
9. They don’t hate on old chicks.
10. They don’t know how to text, but they know how to put out.

Fake Boyfriends

You've heard of friends with benefits? Well, I like to have fake boyfriends with no benefits. See, I would never cheat on my husband, but I sure do like the IDEA of getting with some little cutie in his 20s (of which there are many in my comedy class). And lots of little cuties look to me to help them with their comedy career. I sure would like to take advantage of that situation!! But, alas, I can't. So, I have fake boyfriends.

What do you get as my fake boyfriend? Why, you get all of the drama of being my boyfriend, but none of the sex! What a deal! If you act now, you can get crazy late night texts in the middle of the night and jealous hissy fits if you hook up with other girls. The fake boyfriend plan does not include: sex, kissing, or blowjobs! As my fake boyfriend, you are required to compliment me and flirt with me at all times. I require a lot of attention! But, as your sugar mama, I will pay for everything, and as an added bonus, provide you with lots of stage time (this offer applies to comedians only). Call my 800 number if you wish to apply.

Potluck Jokes

I used to date a priest. Not a Catholic priest, an Episcopal priest. They are allowed to get married. But, they aren't allowed to do what we did!

I had to get a bunch of stuff done at the dentist lately because I have bad teeth. The office girl told me my insurance would cover it, and then after it was over, said “Oops, I was wrong. You owe us $1,000…and we need that today.” I said “you told me I was covered or I wouldn’t have had the work done.” Then she holds up a giant phone book of benefits and said “Didn’t you get one of these?” Yeah bitch. I got it. But, I didn’t read it! That’s what you are for. Isn’t that why you went to Bryman?

I love my dentist, but I hate the dental assistant. She is too rough with that damn suction. I’m like, “stop shoving that thing down my throat; I’m not your prom date bitch!” So today they put on my chart that I don’t want that assistant anymore. There are so many things on my chart.

They used to call me like 3 times to confirm every appointment. It would drive me crazy, so one day I went off on them and told them that they are only allowed to call me once per appointment. If I don’t cancel, I’ll fucking be there! So once they had to call me twice because there was a change to the appointment and the girl was like “I know you don’t like to be called more than once. It says on your chart not to call you more than once. I’m so sorry to be calling you. Please don’t be mad that I called you more than once.” I told my husband, “damn I guess they got the point; maybe the gun was a little too much.”

My husband and I are about to turn 40. We have been together since we were 20. Being the same age as him has made me realize how different men and women really are. When we were younger, he wanted to have sex constantly, and I could take it or leave it. I think I even went two years once without enjoying it at all. But, now that I am almost 40, I am a god-damn sex maniac. I am such the stereotypical woman in her late 30s. I have the sex drive of a 17 year old. No wonder I like 17 years old so much lately! I look at young boys who walk by and where I used to think “little hoodlum” now I think “I have got to get a piece of that!” I see men as sex objects only now. I don’t care about them as people at all. Now I see why the boys in high school were so obnoxious. No wonder. It’s hard to be horny all the time!

My husband is not having the same experience as he turns 40. Now, he could take sex or leave it. At the very least, he sure as hell doesn’t want to do it as much as I do. So since I have the sex drive of a 40 year old woman, and he has the sex drive of a 40 year old man, my husband has established some rules.

Chris’ rules:

1. We can only have sex once a day. (I know!)

2. We can only have sex 3 times over 4 days. (This totally breaks rule #1)

3. If you don’t initiate before 10pm, you don’t get it. (To be fair, he works 2 jobs)

I think those rules are unacceptable! Especially rule #2. I remember a time when he wanted to have sex 3 times a day, and I just gave in to shut him up. Couldn’t he just give in to shut me up? I have 3 rules, too, but mine are much more reasonable.

Bobbie’s rules:

1. No morning sex (Too bright in the room & I have bad breath)

2. I get off first. (And usually 2^nd, and sometimes 3^rd)

3. And, most important-No one cums in my mouth! (I established this one in college and it has served me well)

I have been monogamous for twenty years. Last time I had sex with someone other than my husband, gas was $1. Prince was on the charts. I’m pretty sure “When Doves Cry” was playing in the background. When I was single, I was a liberated woman, ok a whore. But I fucking loved every minute of it! But, when I got together with Chris, I gave all that up (except that one time before we got married when we broke up for a weekend). Do you have any idea what it’s like to be monogamous for the last twenty years when the first twenty years you were a slut? It ain’t easy! I’m still that same person that wants to fuck hitchhikers (only now very young hitchhikers), but I can’t! I think I should get some kind of extra credit over some women who never liked sex who are faithful. That doesn’t require effort! But, for a nymphomaniac to be monogamous, that takes effort!

Potluck O' The Week

The actress who played Mary Ann on Gilligan's Island just got busted for possession of marijuana. She is 69 years old. I guess that solves the old "Ginger vs. Mary Ann" debate. Mary Ann has weed. Gilligan got busted for pot, too. I'm starting the think that island wasn't half bad. I bet the Professor made a hell of a coconut bong.

The other day this woman I know came up to me and said, "My friend Becky said she saw you buying pot at the pot clinic." Really? Becky told you that, did she? Did she tell you my age and my weight, too? What the fuck happened to anonymous? I guess that's only if you're sober. There is no pothead anonymous. Well, Becky, it might be legal, but pot etiquette still applies!

I was looking through a Playboy, and I don't understand why women don't have pubic hair anymore. When we were kids, we wanted to get pubes. Now little girls are like, "I can't wait till I grow up and get pubic hair so I can shave it off."

I was raped when I was 12 years old, or as we call it in GA, headstart.

The new governor of New York is blind. I heard them ask on the news "how will he be able to handle the subtle nuances of politics?" Um, I think he can handle it. If George Bush can pull it off, believe me Helen Keller could get it done.

New Potluck

I heard on NPR today that the situation in Kenya is getting really intense. Not only are they having riots and murders, but people are sending “Hate Texts”. That’s right, text messages of hate. People must have furious thumbs. “OMG I H8 U!”


Is anyone else watching Celebrity Rehab? I love that show! I totally can relate to Jeff Conway from Grease. You know, I think Celebrity Rehab is actually helping me! My husband’s asks, “How was your day honey?” I’m like, “Kenickie and I had a break- through in group.” I guess it’s cheaper than real rehab.


In California, people really put their kids on a pedestal. I have never seen such extravagant birthday parties for a child. In Georgia, you were lucky you didn’t get a whipping on your birthday, much less a moon bounce. We didn’t even know what a piñata was. We just hit the gas tank with a stick.


I voted for Hilary. I just heard someone say they would never vote for her because of how she handled the whole Monica Lewinsky thing. I think she handled that with class. America is very lucky I am not first lady. I would have thrown Bill’s ass out on the White House lawn, cigars and all. I would have slashed the tires on Air Force One. They would have found Monica strangled to death with that blue dress. Then I would have fucked Al Gore.

Barack Obama has a secret. No, he's not a Muslim; he smokes cigarettes. He needs to quit immediately. We cannot have a smoker as President of the United States. I can’t imagine him stepping outside the UN in the middle of a meeting cause he's having a nicotine fit. We can't be going to war, Obama, cause you ain't got no nicarette! I know Clinton loved his cigars. But, I don't think he was smoking them.

Funeral Humor

My mother just passed away and I had to go to GA for her funeral. It was very hard, but very strange, as well. I felt like I was the star of some coming-of-age indy film about the freak who goes back home to deal with the death of her cold and distant mother and her estranged redneck family. It was very surreal and I will share with you some of the highlights.

First, Delta Airlines does not have a bereavement discount. I did not know this until I paid for the one-day notice airplane tickets for two from California to Georgia. Actually, they do have a bereavement discount, but only for Alaska and Hawaii. Don’t they know that people die in all 50 states? What is so special about Hawaii? At least if someone dies, you get to go to Hawaii! I had to go to Georgia!

So, I got into a fight with the funeral home. That’s right. You heard me. At my mother’s funeral, they gave my daddy a package to take home. When he gets it home, he opens it up and it’s the bill.

So, when I got back to California, I emailed the funeral home and told them I didn’t think they should give the bill to the family at the funeral. I suggested they mail the bill to the family. Every other business in America can mail a bill, why not them?

Then, the woman from the funeral home writes me back a mean email! She said it’s not a bill it’s a “statement” and they are required to give it to the person responsible and WHY DON’T I CALL THE FUNERAL HOMES IN LA AND FIND OUT HOW THEY DO IT. WTF? Oh no you didn’t bitch! This is who they send to deal with the grieving people?

I wrote back, “First of all, you can call it whatever you like but a bill is a bill; second, I understand that you have to give it to someone but not at their wife’s funeral; and third, I watch Six Feet Under and you ain’t fooling anybody bitch!”

The funeral itself was very religious, which was so not my mama. She was a very controlling woman. She was never a WWJD kind of gal. Unless it was What Would Jean Evans Do? That’s her name.

My favorite part is that everyone I talk to keeps saying, “Oh, your father will probably die now.” What? My daddy is only 60! “Yeah, but that’s what happens. The wife dies then the husband can’t bear to be without her and he dies, too.” Please, stop helping!

At the funeral, my brother Eddie kept saying to every person who walked up to me, “Be careful. Everything you say to Bobbie can and will be used against you on stage.” It was cute the first 100 times. Then I started thinking maybe he was pissed about something. Then I realized none of my brothers were really talking to me. Hmm. Do you think they are mad about all the jokes calling them fucking idiots? I didn’t think this through.

My niece says to me, “Hey tell us that joke.” “What joke?” “The one on your website about me being pregnant on Chrystal Meth.” Fuck. I gotta go. It’s not my fault. She shouldn’t have been pregnant on Chrystal Meth. She knew her aunt was a comedian.


My brother Eddie got fat. My rail thin brother who used to terrorize me as a child with fat jokes that were completely unprovoked and vicious is now fat. I really wanted to just spew every criticism on him that he ever tortured me with. I wanted to say, “Hey Eddie, hope the house doesn’t catch on fire and we all have to haul ass ‘cause you’d have to make two trips!” I wanted to do that but that behavior is not as becoming a 40 year old as it is a child. I don’t think I could get away with it now. Damn life’s cruel jokes!

So, as mentioned before in this blog, my oldest brother and his wife are insane religious fanatics. My husband and I are atheist liberal commie pinkos who believe in crazy things like evolution, gravity, and photosynthesis. My brother said, “How can you believe in evolution?” I said, “You believe Jonah was in the belly of a whale!!” He said, “Oh, I can show you proof of that!”

His wife said, “You believe that if you put a watch in the ground for a hundred years you can dig it up and it would be life?” WTF? Is that what they teach you evolution is in home school? No wonder they don’t believe in it.

I said “You believe that Noah gathered up two of every animal on Earth
and put them on a boat.”
She said, “No we don’t! Noah didn’t gather up the animals. God called
them up.”
I said, “How do you know that?”
“Because the Bible says so.”
I said, “Well Catcher in the Rye says a lot of stuff to, but I don’t live
my life by it.”
“Catcher in the Rye wasn’t written by God.”
“Neither was the Bible…for Christ’s sakes!” Oops. Sorry. I got carried away.


I had a long discussion with my brother about religion, politics, abortion, racism (get this: the white man can’t catch a break in Mississippi. Really? Mississippi?), everything we disagreed on basically. Then, about a week after I get home, he calls me up and says, “I’ve decided you’re not evil.” I was thinking “Well, I’ll call you back when I decide you’re not an idiot.”

New Potluck

New potluck jokes...

I’m getting old. I know I’m old because now I use my roach clip to pull whiskers out of my chin.


The LA City Council just banned the N word. Seriously. It is against the law to use the N word. But, only within 5 feet of a building.


I used to be obsessed with this website of a prison in Texas that listed death-row prisoners’ crimes and their last meal requests. I was fascinated by the horrible things these men had done and what they liked to eat. I thought maybe I could find a pattern. But, alas, there was never a fried chicken/child murder correlation.


I just went to the Helen, GA, and it is just like Big Bear and every other quaint little mountain tourist trap. Who decided that mountains + candle shops + fudge + Swiss chalet shaped hotels = fun? Just add tubing and you’ve got yourself a vacation!


I bet when we were Cavemen, there was a dude with a sign that read “The end is near.”


One night my husband and I were watching the Hip Hop awards and he looked at me and said, “Bitch you better watch yo ass.” I said, “What the fuck did you just say to me?” He goes, “Oh, sorry, I’ve been watching too much BET.”


I just read the new Steve Martin book “Born Standing Up”. He took his father to see “The Jerk” and afterward someone asked his father what he thought of it and he said, “Well, he’s no Charlie Chaplin.” Damn. Who the fuck do you have to be before your parents recognize that you are someone? I bet Charlie Chaplin’s dad said, “Well, he’s no Fattie Arbuckle.” My mama said to me, “You’re no Steve Martin.” Where does that leave me? Oh to be Fattie Arbuckle!


Everytime I buy pot, I buy $240 worth. Now when I go to the ATM, it says “do you want your usual $240?” Fuck. They are keeping track of my pot purchases. The ATM machine is a narc!


Last night I was watching that show “Intervention” where they follow around addicts and videotape their family’s intervention. And they had an intervention for a fat guy! Seriously. Can you imagine you come home one day and your friends and family are gathered around to tell you that you are a fatass…and they taped it…and showed it on TV! “John, we are really concerned about your pizza consumption.” You’d be like, “Billy is on crack! You said this was an intervention for him. And you said there’d be pizza!” That’s why whenever I walk into a room and see more than 3 people I know gathered, I turn around and walk the fuck out.



I was talking to the guy at the coffee house trying to figure out the difference between a medium and a large. He said, “8 oz.” I don’t know 8 oz. I can’t visualize 8 oz. I know how many 1/8s in a quarter and how many ¼ s are in an ounce. I don’t know kilos though. I could never do a drug that made you learn the metric system.



I used to know this guy named Gary. I would say, “How was your day Gary?” He’d say, “You’ll never believe what stupid thing Homer said today.” I was intrigued until I realized he was talking about The Simpsons. He would talk about TV characters like they were people. He said, “Oh my God, Darhma was at the store with Greg’s mom, and you know how she’s so snotty and bitchy…” We were gossiping about sitcoms. And not very good ones. Don’t you know any real people we can talk shit about?

Old Boyfriends

So in this day and age of the Internet and myspace, we have all by now experienced the horror of being contacted out of the blue by ex-boyfriends. This experience catches you completely off guard. I have now had this experience several times, lucky me (as well as the continuing offer from strange men to pay me $250 to pee on them. I know! How do they know that I always have to pee and I could use the money?)

My old boyfriend from high school contacted me last year (2007) and said, “I have thought about you every single day since high school (I graduated in 1986) especially the 8 years I was in prison.” Great! I gotta go.

This happened to me again recently, and it made me walk down memory lane of boyfriends past.

I once dated a guy who said, “I would never marry a woman that made more money than me.” Really? Then you better cruise the homeless shelters ‘cause you are one broke son-of-a-bitch! I notice you don’t mind whenever I pick up lunch. Never marry a woman that made more money than me Mr. Always- in- the- bathroom- when- the- check- comes motherfucker!

I once dated my dealer. Take it from me, don’t ever break up with your dealer! Now I don’t know what I’m jonsing for- pot or abuse.

One boyfriend, I didn’t actually break up with. I just stopped calling. But, this is a passive aggressive society and if he can’t learn to read between the lines, then fuck him!

The strangest boyfriend I ever had put in a good deal of time and energy into wooing me for about 6 months, then when I gave in, he wouldn’t have sex with me. What the fuck? Believe me, I can get that someone would not want to have sex with me. But, this guy really put in the leg work, you know? Why would he go to so much trouble if he didn’t want to sleep with me?

I keep trying to figure out what he got out of the relationship. It’s not like I was the Sugar Mama. So I paid for Senior Fish a couple of times, big deal. Dating me is not exactly good for your career. I can get you into the Ice House, so what? The thing is, I know he used me...I just can’t figure out for what! He never wanted me, he just wanted me to want him. It was like a bad Cheap Trick song.

I just can’t figure out why he didn’t sleep with me. At first I thought he was gay. But, then I realized, even the gay guys will fuck you (I should know). Then I thought he was religious, but the priests will fuck you, too (again, I know). If he were gay, I would have been fine with that. I don’t mind playing the fag hag; I just want to know the terms up front!

When he contacted me recently it was weird. It was kinda like a booty call, but it was more like a no-booty-for-you call. You know, I could have handled any fetish he threw at me except the not fucking. That’s just weird. Are you sure you don’t just want me to dress up like a Raccoon (or pee on me)? I told myself, “He’s just scared.” And my best friend Sally said, “Well he wasn’t scared of Amy when he was fucking her last week.” She’s a good friend.

There is a limit to the amount of bullshit I will put up with, and evidently it’s about 6 months. Hey, I can find plenty of guys out there to not fuck me! Especially when I whip out the Senior Fish. I just hope that when I die, God will tell me why I was rejected. He will say “Your keys were in the sofa and by the way, Jim was impotent.”

Do you think I am being too harsh? Let this be a lesson to you. Don’t ever fuck over a comedian.