TOILET PAPER TOUR OF THE WORLD

Some people collect decorative spoons or thimbles from their trips to foreign lands.
Me, I collect toilet paper.
Actually, I don't even collect it personally.
No. Since I have the best friends a girl could ask for, I am able to wipe my ass with toilet paper from lands I've never visited.
In the photo above, you'll see a roll of toilet paper all the way from Amsterdam.
That's right.
When I wipe my ass with this toilet paper, I can almost see the beautiful tulips and smell the hash smoke wafting out of a quaint cafe on the Leidseplein.

So, if any of you are planning any overseas trips, I urge you to think of me and my International House of Toilet Paper. You'll be helping this broke writer travel the world in my own special way.

Much obliged.

TRASHY NEIGHBORS

An excellent way to tell that you're not living in a deluxe apartment building is when you go to take out your trash and find that one of your neighbors has disposed of their BONGZILLA box.

I hasten to add that I do not live in a dorm or frat house.

I really cannot imagine what one of my neighbors is doing with BONGZILLA, a.k.a "The Ultimate Party Fixture!" This is Midtown Manhattan, not Daytona Beach. I can't even buy more than 4 rolls of toilet paper at a time (which is why I'm always running out and stealing it from bars) because there isn't enough room. Yet this thirsty party animal has ample space in their urban abode for BONGZILLA.

Somewhere in this building it's perpetually Spring Break and I need to find out why.

INFLATABLE SLIDE AS RESIGNATION DEVICE

By now, JetBlue flight attendant Steven Slater has become a symbol of fighting bullshit with a flourish:

JETBLUE FLIGHT ATTENDANT STORMS OFF THE JOB BY DROPPING F BOMBS AND EVACUATING PLANE VIA INFLATABLE SLIDE

This guy is a crusader in an era of overbooked flights, rude passengers and uncomfortable seats. Plus he has panache. But it got me to thinking how much cooler any resignation would be if you could exit stage left by zooming down an inflatable slide:

Imagine Richard Nixon resigning as President by shouting, "Fuck you America! You won't have Richard Nixon to kick around anymore" grabbing Pat by the hand and slipping out of the White House on an inflatable slide. Or if David Lee Roth quit Van Halen by packing up all his Aqua Net shrieking, "Fuck you Eddie! I'm out of here" and releasing an inflatable slide tucked away in his lycra pants.

The bottom line is:
If this shitty economy has taught us anything it's that there is no job security. We're all adrift, and you've got to sort out your path in a unique way. So if you're going to quit, take a lesson from Steven Slater and do it up right. Burn that fucking bridge down with a monogramed Zippo.

DO YOU KNOW THIS WOMAN?

For years I've described a certain kind of plain woman simply as "WOMAN".
She's the kind of woman who is fit, has good clear skin, healthy teeth, nice hair.
She is a nice physical specimen.
But she has no style and is duller than a non-alcoholic wedding reception.

I use this term because they remind me of Biology textbook illustrations like the one above.
There's nothing wrong with this woman. But no one, not even a horny 17-year-old is going to get a boner by looking at her.

The funny thing is, I've noticed over the years that a lot of men wind up marrying "WOMAN".
Sure, they'll date the gorgeous TV producer, the hot model, the sexy actress/waitress. But somehow they hit the age of 35 and marry "WOMAN".

I actually asked a sampling of men in the Wall Street area about this phenomenon. I asked them if they'd noticed that a lot of men tend to date the hot ones and marry the dull ones. I wondered if they'd even know what I was talking about. Or if they'd pretend not to get it. But to my surprise, they all knew exactly what I meant. And you know what most of them said?

"Because we're tired."

LITERAL TRANSLATIONS

Hairy Clam:


Pink Taco:

TRANSVESTITE ON THE LOOSE

A Peon Confidential reader just sent me this outrageous article:

TRANSVESTITE HAS SEX WITH DOG IN MOAT OF ENGLISH CASTLE

First off, I'm humbled by the extraordinary array of toilet, fart, pubic waxing and sex related articles that remind you Peon Confidential readers of me. Sometimes they aren't even articles. One of you farted loudly at work once and saw fit to message me about it. So, I'm much obliged.

Secondly, my favorite line in this incredibly strange article is: "the pair spotted the lone transvestite on the morning of Saturday July 10th," as though transvestites are more traditionally spotted in packs, gaggles, flocks or whatever the collective noun is for transvestites.

TURKEY TETRAZZINI FOR LINDSAY LOHAN

Well I am just flabbergasted. (I don't think I've ever used that word before. Sounds like something Andy Rooney would use, along with "horsefeathers".)

Anyway-
A trusted source just told me that jailbird Lindsay Lohan dined on a fine meal of Turkey Tetrazzini last night, her first culinary experience in the Big House.

Here I thought she'd be dining on gruel and dust bunnies. Instead, she gets the finest meal CNN's Hard News Cafe had to offer!
While this particular Turkey Tetrazzini was not made by Famed Hashslinger Roz's loving hands, it is still an approximation of the savory vittles that made us whistle while we worked at The Plant, a.k.a CNN Center in Atlanta.

Then again...
If I find out tonight's meal is rice and corn with packets of hot sauce, we'll know just where Roz found new employment after getting booted from her Hard News perch.

CENSORED BATHROOM POLE

Happy 13th of July everyone!
Sorry I've been neglecting you a bit. I've been immersed in a whirlwind of home improvement projects. I've been a regular fucking Bob Villa! This place is gonna look like something out of House Beautiful when I'm done, but without some bitchy-looking WASP broad sitting on the sofa.

One sad byproduct of all this frenzied household activity is that the infamous "Porn Pole" in the bathroom has been censored. I know, I know. I'm a bit depressed about it too. But it was really the only option.

Let it be an important lesson to you: if you are going to decorate an unsightly pole in your bathroom with a collage of 1980's Playboy photos, make sure you waterproof it first. Otherwise the lovely ladies will get watermarks all over their asses.

R.I.P. Porn Pole: 2007-2010.

And here's the new, censored version:

BORDELLO PHOTOS

Sister Saara says:
On the merciless streets of NYC, the temperatures are rising, the garbage and dog piss are stinking and we're getting cranky.

But inside Mama D's Arts Bordello, the burlesque dancers are hot, the writers are cool and the drinks are intoxicating.
We've added some new photos to our Bordello Gallery.
Take a look and be whisked away to our velvety realm....

MAMA D'S ARTS BORDELLO GALLERY

THE KING IS LEAVING HIS THRONE

Yesterday, CNN legend Larry King announced that he will stepping down from his perch soon and "hanging up his suspenders". Some of you have either worked for his show in the past or still do. I never did find out the truth behind the "he forced a VJ to pick the peanuts out of his Kung Pao chicken" rumor. But he was a comforting, steady presence on CNN and this rapidly changing world will feel just a bit more unsettled without him.

Here he is, interviewing The Letter W on Sesame Street:

SAMMY DAVIS JR.'S GLASS EYE

It's hot, humid and impossible to think in NYC today, let alone blog about anything too complex.
So instead, I'm offering up a rare, historical treat: Sammy Davis Jr.'s glass eye.
It was on display for several years at The Freakatorium, a.k.a El Museo Loco on the Lower East Side.
The owner, Johnny Fox was a sword swallower who also showcased such wonders as the two headed dog skull and Tom Thumb's vest.

Sadly, the Freakatorium closed down five years ago.

If anyone knows where these curios have been moved to, please let me know. It seems that the freaks in this world are getting harder and harder to find, and these artifacts deserve some love!

THE LONELY SHOE

Our new "Random NYC Photos" concept is off to a great start!
One of you sent me the above snapshot to add to the collection.
Today I present you with, "THE LONELY SHOE"

I'm not sure what the backstory is here. Did some drunken Cinderella lose it after a night of singing Lady Gaga songs at a karaoke bar? I suspect the odds of her inebriated, Bon Jovi-belting Prince Charming tracking her down are pretty slim.

Or perhaps some firey young woman came home from work early to find her boyfriend and some other woman naked in bed. Enraged, she scoops up this woman's clothes and shoes and throws them out the window shrieking, "Get the fuck out of here, you whore!" This prompts the naked woman to quickly wrap herself in a sheet and run out onto the street, wildly snatching up what she can before hailing a taxi, leaving this shoe behind.

I guess we'll never know...

MAMA D'S ARTS BORDELLO: SLAUGHTERING SACRED COWS-TONIGHT!

The time has come! Get down to Parkside Lounge where sensational best-selling author Jackie Collins will kick off this show via skype. Then put on yor safety glasses and rubber gloves because your favorite icons and cultural institutions are getting slaughtered! The Middle Class, Shakespeare, Bono--we're making mincemeat out of 'em. And the venerable NPR is going on trial. Will this esteemed Sacred Cow of radio be slaughtered or spared? Come be in the audience and deliver a verdict.
Plus: You could win a delicious prize during Mama D's Meat raffle!

Where: Parkside Lounge
When: Tonight at 8pm
How Much: $5

See you there!

NEW CONCEPT: RANDOM NEW YORK PHOTOS

It's the dawn of an exciting new era here at Peon Confidential! That's right. We're adding something else to this cyber brew.
I'll be snapping photos of random shit around New York City and accosting you with them on this blog.
Be forewarned-I'm no great photographer. I can't dance either but that won't stop me from making an ass of myself at your wedding.

This will be a photo potpourri. Sometimes the photos will be people, sometimes they'll be inconsequential snapshots of NY life. Don't over think them too much.

This first photo is, "STILL LIFE IN THE LAUNDRY ROOM."

I liked this image because with the multiple Duane Reade drug store bags and proud Bloomingdale's bag standing at attention, you just know it had to take place in NYC...well that and the fact that the laundry room is a filthy shithole.

SECOND HAND LUNGS

So-
I have a bit of experience in purchasing second hand items. In fact, second hand books are cooler in some ways. You might see that the previous owner underlined certain phrases and wonder what kind of person they were. Of course, you occasionally wonder what that disgusting green glob is on page 152.
Which brings me to this story from the Associated Press:

Woman Received Lungs of a 30-year Smoker

LONDON – The family of a 28-year-old British woman who unknowingly received a lung transplant from a smoker says she would have been "horrified" and have lodged a complaint.
Cystic fibrosis sufferer Lyndsey Scott in February received a double lung transplant from a donor who had smoked for three decades. She died in July of pneumonia.
Britain's top transplant official Chris Rudge defended the decision and said patients should be told they are not getting a "brand new" organ. He said on the BBC that "lungs from a smoker can be working perfectly normally."

Now, I think this transplant official is kind of a prick. Of course this patient knew she wasn't getting a "brand new" organ.
It's not like they stock new lungs at your local Target.
But getting this particular set of lungs is a bit like getting Pamela Anderson's used vagina.

The bottom line is:
If you're getting something used, it's best if it's "gently used", to use a vintage clothing term.
It seems to me there ought to be a Kelley Blue Book for second hand organs.

5 NEW PORK SLOGANS

Apparently, Pork Industry honchos are searching for a new slogan. Sales are stagnant and "The Other White Meat" isn't cutting it anymore. I'd love to sit in on the pork slogan brainstorming sessions. Tell ya what fellas, here are a few ideas I came up with, just off the top of my head:

1. Stab Your Fork Into Some Pork

2. Don't Worry, Swine Flu Doesn't Actually Come From Eating Swine

3. This Little Piggy Got Slaughtered And Wound Up On Your Plate

4. Ham It Up Tonight!

5. We Ain't Fakin'-There's Nothin' Better Than Bacon

10 MOVIES WITH SHITTY MESSAGES

It occurs to me that people have overlooked some of the lousy messages buried within popular films over the years. Well no more. I'm fed up. It's time to call these classics out, and I'm just the cranky bitch to do it:

1. Forrest Gump: It's better to be naive and ignorant because otherwise you'll get hooked on drugs and die.

2. Pretty Woman: Prostitution is a great way to land a cute, rich guy who buys you lots of expensive stuff.

3. Sixteen Candles: Date rape is totally hilarious!

4. Ratatouille: Rats in the kitchen are adorable!

5. Grease: When you completely change your image and learn to dress like a slut, you get the hot guy and everybody's happy.

6. Dead Poets Society: Pompous, irritating windbags are "inspiring".

7. Patch Adams: Don't be afraid if your doctor is some nutjob wearing a clown nose.

8. Twilight: Pasty stalkers who watch you sleep are "romantic".

9. The Wizard of Oz: If you magically find yourself in a beautiful place with great friends and cool shoes, it's still better to go back to the dusty, dreary shithole you came from.

10. Pretty In Pink: That guy who really loves and understands you, who is sweet, funny and kind? Yeah. Forget him and go for the rich asshole who was too embarrassed to be seen with you.

Have you got one to add? Lay it on us.

FATHER'S DAY ANNOYANCE

So-
Every year around this time I start the hunt for a Father's Day card suitable for my father. Yes, I have to start this early because it is such a pain in the ass. They're all illustrated with pictures of tools, golf, barbecues or fishing poles (none of which applies to my father.) Worse, they all have sappy inscriptions like,

Dad, you've taught me how to live, share and love. You're the best dad I could ever ask for.

Dad, you're wise and caring. My love for you grows every year. Thanks for always being there for me.

Dad, you're my hero.

Yuck.

And listen, I love my dad. I love him for the person he is, not for who I wanted him to be. It took me a while to figure that out.

So all I want is a card that says, "Well, dad...you tried."

Yeah, I could just write it myself. But it would be oddly reassuring to know that someone at Hallmark felt the same way.

CAPTIONING WITH INTENT

CAPTIONS FOR THE ABOVE "RESPECTABLE DAD" PHOTOS

1. I heard through the grapevine that Bill McGillicutty's company is planning to transfer him to London where he will be living with his gorgeous wife in a multi-million dollar townhouse.

2. Yet here I am, unemployed, living in this shitbox with my mustachioed wife.

3. Bill McGillicutty is goin' down, fuckers.

4. That's better. Now, I'll put on my glasses and spy on the hot college girls next door.

EMBARRASSING GYNECOLOGIST CHITCHAT

One thing that I have always loved about working in news is that when people enter the newsroom to begin work for the day, they don't always greet you with the standard "How are you?" that you get in other corporate environments.
We newspeople are a little peculiar.
The most extreme example of this phenomenon can be found here: ASS ASSESSMENTS.

Years ago, a CNN co-worker of mine shuffled into the studio on an overnight shift and sighed, "My gynecologist completely humiliated me."
I raised an eyebrow and she continued with:
"He's an old guy. I just don't think he understands the art of chitchat with his patients. But there I was with my feet in the stirrups, my hoo hoo on display, he's digging in with the speculum and says, "So last weekend I went Largemouth Bass fishing with my buddy Joe."



P.S. Happy Birthday Eve Ensler!