Check it, Peons: Your CNN Humiliation Compartmentalized

Saturday, October 30, 2010

HAPPY HAUNTINGS!


Happy Halloween weekend everyone! I hope you all have a deliciously spooky time, and that no one in your neighborhood gives out "nature's candy" (i.e. raisins) as Halloween treats.
Check it out--here's my costume. Guess which one is the real Andy Warhol?

Thursday, October 28, 2010

MY REBUTTAL TO PATTI STANGER'S BITCHERY ABOUT NEW YORK STYLE


Patti Stanger, I’ve noticed that you and your two Goth love wranglers have descended upon NYC for a new season of “The Millionaire Matchmaker”.
You’ve proclaimed that us New Yorkers are in dire need of your dating advice.
Well, that may be.
But when you had the nerve to say that New York women aren’t as stylish as L.A. women, that’s when I say: back it up, bitch.
It’s the East Coast -West Coast style divide and I’m here to represent.

Let's kick this off with a few defining factors about New York Style:

1. Unlike L.A., most of us live without a car here in New York. So our style is both fashionable and functional. We actually walk in this town. A lot. You might have a business meeting in Midtown, a lunch date in TriBeCa and then cheer on a friend doing a poetry reading in the Bowery. Moreover, we run up and down the stairs to our walk-up apartments, chase down the hot guy who just crossed the street and sprint for the bus in our cute shoes. We navigate sidewalk grates, subway steps, and those clanging metal doors that shield underground caverns below restaurants and delis.

2. Walking more than you do, we battle things you L.A. women don’t have to worry about—like mud puddles, dripping AC window units and gusts of hot air whooshing up from subway grates. We can handle the unexpected with flair. As a result, New York women are savvy, smart and capable. A New York woman can hail a cab, text her boyfriend and tell the jackass on the stoop to fuck off—all at the same time.

3. We're on display more than you. You can go to a restaurant, show off your revealing outfit then retreat to your car. We can't. The sidewalks here are perpetual runways.

4. Unlike L.A, New York has real seasons. So we have more diverse ways of expressing our personal style than you do. We look adorable in our gloves and hats in the winter, our rain boots in the spring, our flirty dresses in the summer and our chic trench coats in the fall.

5. We believe in diversity of beauty. We don't have a cookie cutter, botoxed, plastic surgery-sculpted definition of what a woman should look like. We appreciate women of all sizes, ethnic backgrounds and fashion perspectives.

6. This is reflected in our after hours style too. In L.A., it seems like you just wear as little as possible and that’s considered stylish club attire. And sure—L.A. is full of beautiful women. You’ve got tanned skin and toned thighs and you look great. You’re very sexy. But we're sexy in New York too. The difference is, when we head out for the night, we take the opportunity to try out outrageous looks, unique styles. If you look around a New York club or bar, you might find a sexy librarian, a retro 60s seductress, a motorcycle hellion, a glamazon. It’s not just about showing flesh. It’s about showcasing style.

And while we’re on the subject of clubbing--when New York women go out, we go out. We’ve got stamina. That defines us too. There’s no finer sight than coming home as the sun is rising over the East River.

Now, I visit L.A. on a regular basis. And I love your town. It's great. But your bars and clubs shut down absurdly early. People are booted out on the street at 1:30 am. What’s worse…many of them actually go home. Like, to sleep.

This is totally uncivilized.

New York women are just getting started at 1:30. On a Thursday. When there’s a sales presentation scheduled for 10am the next morning.

In conclusion:
Patti Stanger, alias Millionaire Matchmaker, I wouldn’t dream of speaking on behalf of my city.
New Yorkers are quite capable of doing that for themselves.
It’s what we do best.
But from me to you: Patti, you don’t know shit about true style.

New York women kick ass…and look damn good doing it.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

ALTERNATE IDEAS FOR JACKIE COLLINS MERCHANDISE


It has been well-established that I love author Jackie Collins. So when I heard she opened up an on-line Jackie Collins store, I was excited:
JACKIE COLLINS MERCHANDISE

Now, the keychains and notebooks are nice enough. But I have a few ideas to spice things up a bit.
Jackie, if you're reading this, I think your hardcore fans like me might appreciate some of these items:

1. Jackie Collins brand condoms: "The Cock Sock of Rock Stars"

2. The Jackie Collins Database Management System: "The Only Software Application That Gets You Hard"

3. The patented two-in-one Jackie Collins Pooper Scooper/Bedazzler: "Tired of ordinary dog shit? Bedazzle it!"

4. Jackie Collins brand Feminine Deodorant Spray. Comes in three scents: The Movie Mogul Magnet, The Washed Up Actor Repellent, and The Sweet Smell of Success

5. The Jackie Collins brand Potato Harvester: "For all your Potato Farming Needs"

Update:
I'm not sure if it was really her, but "Jackie Collins" left a message on my voicemail: "What the hell is going on around here? A Jackie Collins Potato Harvester? Whose idea of a joke is this? How many of these did we order? You're fired!"

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

HALLOWEEN HIJINKS


This year, I've decided to dress up as Andy Warhol for Halloween. I figure this is a safer bet than some of the costumes I've worn in the past.

When I went as feisty "Valley of the Dolls" author Jacqueline Susann, I got into a cat fight, lost one fake eyelash and spilled a martini all over my fake Pucci outfit.
(But for the record, I treated guitar hero Slash with the utmost respect.)


When I went as perpetually intoxicated gonzo journalist Hunter S. Thompson, I became a belligerent drunk for the evening; chomping down on my cigarette holder and spewing obscenities at anyone who crossed my path.
(Including the mild-mannered Scooby Doo you see in this photo.)


Now, from what I've read about Andy Warhol, he was a quiet man who liked to watch the circus around him with an impassive gaze. Surely this is a great way to stay out of trouble for the evening.

Eh, who am I kidding? I'll find some way to make a nuisance of myself. I always do. Even in a fancy lobster restaurant.

Sunday, October 17, 2010

THE GIN AND TONIC COLONIC CHANNEL


Hello there pals and cohorts!
Just letting you know that I've been compiling all the Mama D's Arts Bordello videos in one convenient spot.
I have a Youtube channel now, which you can find here:

GIN AND TONIC COLONIC

At some point, as soon as I've figured out how to light myself properly so I don't look like I'm locked up in a dungeon, I'll be doing a video blog there too. (Yes, I know it's called a "vlog". But that sounds slightly menacing to me. Like a cyborg or a blood clot.)

In fact, that was the reason I created the fucking channel in the first place. Hence the channel title.

But stay tuned! Subscribe if you like. By the power of Thomas Edison, I'll be vlogging before you know it...

Saturday, October 16, 2010

PHOTOGRAPHIC EVIDENCE OF THE SHIPWRECK

We had a great, zany show on Friday. Thanks to all you passengers who climbed aboard our sinking cruise ship. Mama D's Arts Bordello is growing and we're happy to keep adding new members to our wacky family.




Wednesday, October 13, 2010

MAMA D'S ARTS BORDELLO: CRITICAL DARLING!


Today is a watershed moment in Mama D's Arts Bordello history...
We got a beautiful red check next to our "Shipwreck" show in Time Out New York magazine!
That's right--we're an "Own This City" critic's pick for this week:

TIME OUT NEW YORK: OWN THIS CITY

Hooray--critics and audiences agree...Mama D's Arts Bordello is an ass-kickin' good show.
Come check us out on Friday the 15th!

Friday, October 08, 2010

THE CURLY HAIRED ANCHOR BAN


As a curly haired person, I have wondered something for a long time: why aren't curly haired women allowed to anchor the news?

If you just plug in "news anchor" to Google images, you will not find a single curly haired woman in the bunch. Not one! While there is more ethnic diversity than there used to be, that diversity stops when it comes to hairstyle. All women must submit to the stereotypical, straightened, laquered news helmet. (See Megyn Kelly above.)

So I want to know: what the hell is wrong with curly hair?

Are curly haired women viewed as untrustworthy? Unprofessional? Crazy? Unkempt?

Who decided that a woman with curly hair can't read a TelePrompter? News organizations will occasionally let a curly haired woman report from a war zone, but she tends to be wearing a flack jacket too. So I guess the curly hair is a prop, conveying the message that, "I'm a serious journalist. You can tell because I have no time to flat iron my hair as the bullets whizz past my ears."

So I say enough with this shameful ban on curly haired women at the anchor desk.
It's time to show some Curly Pride.

Monday, October 04, 2010

THE GHOULISH GRUNGE KID


So Halloween is creeping up on us, as gourds and skeletons take their place in October's seasonal showcase. (Actually, gourds get to savor the spotlight longer than skeletons, as their fame lasts all through November. Lap it up gourds! Shine on you misshapen motherfuckers!)

The point is, I've been trying to figure out what I'd like to be for Halloween this year, and found myself perusing the Buy Costumes website.

I examined the Fetching Fraulein ensemble, the Sexy Scallywag attire, and the noble homage to our Native American ancestors, the "Pocahottie" getup. Then I found this:

90s Grunge Guy Costume.

Now this just cracked me up. It appears that Grunge, once a backlash against hair metal theatricality, has become a defined costume; complete with the "grunge hair" attached to the skull cap...available for $24.99.

Even the shield of 90s irony couldn't change the fact that time makes Halloween spectacles of us all.

What would Kurt Cobain say?

Friday, October 01, 2010

ONE SICK BASTARD


That's me.
I've been under the weather for the past three days: snot flowing, vomit spewing and Theraflu swilling.
On Monday night I decided to paint the living room wall red, and I think the fumes combined with the rude fucker who coughed all over me at the supermarket are what did me in.
I suspect my Peon Pal who refuses to cook would be the first to tell me that this is an excellent reason to stay out of the supermarket. But I'll still take my chances.
Anyway, the photo above showcases what the wall looks like now.
I think it was worth the aggravation.
What do you think?