Grrr. Do I have to?

It seems that every time I make a full commitment to getting healthy and becoming one of those thriving hearty types I despise, God and/or CNN conspires against me.

I quit smoking…again. This time for real…again. Last time I did this I lasted two whole years before I started to wane and then fall full into habit (I blame 9/11; Karl Rove and Dick CHeney. I take no personal responsibility.) After an outrageously indulgent Labor Day weekend – fudge for breakfast anyone – I put down the matches and picked up the sugar-free popsicles. I stupidly decided to look at the ingredients on the box and noticed that my frozen treat had actually more chemicals than my cigarettes, but without the added nicotine deliciousness. Ironic huh? But that’s not my point.

My point is, after a solid week of being smoke free and certifiably crazy I came across an article on CNN that stated: “Showerheads may deliver blast of bacteria.” Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but what the fuck?

Here’s where it got really confusing, First they stated: “If you are healthy and your immune system is functioning properly, you should not worry about the germs in your showerhead.” Great. Fine. But the next sentence says: “Mycobacterium avium, found in 20 percent of study samples, can cause lung infections in both healthy people and those with weakened immune systems, particularly smokers, alcoholics, people with chronic lung disease, and others with conditions that make it difficult to fight off infection. Symptoms include fatigue, a chronic dry cough, and shortness of breath.” Later they state “”[The study] is nothing to freak out about because most germs don’t hurt you,” Then why the fuck did you do the study and why do you still have a job!

Okay, fine I quit smoking, but a shower may or may not kill my lungs anyway, and I’m doomed to die on a street corner because Obama is a Marxist, Socialist, Red Lovin’, Foreigner and there’s no way in hell, aka South Carolina, that a health care plan is going to get passed. And although I’m doing my best to not eat my way through withdrawal, a few extra pounds are beginning to appear which certainly won’t help with being a 42 year old single women. Oh sure beauty is on the inside, but there’s nothing like a few pints of ice cream to make that beauty really, really hard to find.

Let’s review:
Smoking: curbs your appetite, help keep you thin, is delicious and all the cool kids do it
Qutting Smoking: makes you insane, spurs your appetite, and doesn’t guarantee you won’t get run over by a bus and die tomorrow anyway
Showering: Will get you clean, but may or may not kill you.

In that name of all that is holy, if there is an afterlife, it better be in a cigarette factory with only cheesecake to eat and not a shower in sight, that’s the only thing that’s going to make up for this new healthy lifestyle that’s clearly making me miserable.

F*ing Nazis

So, David Mamet has been hired by Disney to pen a new movie version of “The Diary of Anne Frank.”

Let me repeat.
Disney. Mamet. Anne Frank.

Ext. Holland. Day.
Close up on a perfect blood red tulip. Camera slowly pulls back to reveal the tulip is one of thousands in this field. The wind has them bending in unison. As we pull back even further the tulips become so obscured they have transformed to a sea of blood.

SFX: CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP

We move back in on the field. Big black boots step into screen. They crush the tulips. It is finally revealed, the boots are laced onto the feet of Nazis. Holland is under siege.

Ext. The Hideout. Establishing.
A nice Dutch house.

Int. The Hideout-Attic
It is this tiny alcove of a space that we meet ANNE FRANK. A willowly, underfed but beautiful girl of 15 Anne, is not “Jewish looking” in the typical sense. Her blue eyes are set off by her blonde hair (think a young Nicole Kidman). We will learn in a flashback that as a form of rebellion, Anne traded one week of rations for hair dye.

Anne writes in her diary.

Anne (voice over): Dear Diary, this place sucks. My roots are coming in and mother will kill me if I sell meat again.

MALE VOICE (off screen): Anne? Anne? What are you doing?

ANNE: Nothing.

MALE: Huh?

ANNE: What?

MALE: Whatever you’re doing you need to stop.

ANNE: Why?

MALE: Why what?

ANNE: Why do I have to stop?

MALE: Because the fucking Nazi’s are coming,

ANNE: Fucking Nazis.

Anne relunctantly puts her diary away and crawls under the bed to hide. She looks up and notices the window is open a crack.

ANNE: Shit. Shit. Shit.

Just then, two animated bluebirds fly in the window. They chirp a happy tune.

ANNE: Why? Who are you?

BLUEBIRDS; Chirp chirp chirp!

MALE VOICE: What the fuck is that fucking chirping?

The bluebirds know when it’s time to leave. The give Anne a wink fly back out the window, shutting it when they leave.

ANNE: (to the male voice) Are they gone?

MALE VOICE: Would I be screaming if they weren’t?

ANNE: What?

MALE VOICE: What?

ANNE; (voice over) Dear Diary, it’s very nice of these people to let us live in their attic, but why do they have to be such assholes about it. It’s not like I asked to be Jewish and have everyone hate me. You try living in attic and having your period for a week and we’ll see how you do.

Gunshots are heard outside teh window.

ANNE: Fucking bluebirds can shut a window, but can’t even poke one Nazi eye out. This place sucks.

“You have the right to remain silent…”

The world’s first Beer Summit. I’m more than a little shocked this took so long. Forget the G8 and the world economic forums, let’s everyone sit down over a frosty brew and talk like men. Pass the pretzels-oops sorry none for you George W.

Let’s take a close investigative look at the world’s first Beer Summit.

First of all the President said he wasn’t taking sides. Let’s see. Beer was first invented in ancient Egypt and Mesopatamia, and who lived there? Black people. So immediately one could say by his choice of beverage, Obama was siding with Gates. BUT, by choosing to drink Bud LIght, the President was making a nod to the Teuton heritage of Officer Crowley. Clearly the President thought this through, and by this alone,, I can say with impunity, President Obama was indeed impartial.

Lesson 1, neutrality is possible at a Beer Summit.

For all his talk about organics and Dijon mustard, we learned Lesson #2: Obama has no taste. Yes he had to drink an American beer, but really, do you think you can bring about world peace with a light beer? Good god man, you go to the gym, you’re the leader of the free world, have a real beer. No wonder his poll numbers are dropping.

I want to get invited to a Beer Summit for no other reason then to lay the ground rules for a Beer Summit and hang out with Michelle. All I need to do is figure out how to get myself involved in some type of racial imbrogolio that will inspire Obama to make an off-the-cuff comment he’ll, come to reget. If I get myself arrested for say, j-walking, do you think I could use racial profiling? That the cop picked me because he thinks that Canadians are taking all the good comedy jobs in this country and that there are too many Canadian news anchors using the American airwaves to spread their propaganda? Ooh, and then if I throw in Quasi-Jew as well I can get him for anti-semite and then Rahm Emanuel will have to join the Summit and introduce me to his brother, Ezekiel the Oxford/Harvard trained oncologist. Then Ezekiel and I will marry and he’ll introduce me to his brother Ari, the Hollywood agent, and I’ll finallly sell a movie. Oh my god, who knew racial profiling could have so many benefits!

Time to go out and get myself arrested!

Batter Up…

Just when I think I’ve seen it all in New York…

My summer softball team practices on a field in Red Hook, Brooklyn. It’s adjacent to some low-income projects and what is generally a low-income mixed immigrant neighborhood. Although genetrification is rapidly changing that. There are four softball diamonds on this field. Usually there are kids playing at another diamond and sometimes they come over and play with us, which is very fun.

Last Sunday I biked to the fields for practice. I pedaled by one corner of the field, where across the street latin/salsa music was blaring. Under a giant tent about 150 Puerto Rican families had gathered for father’s day. The grills were going. Fun was being had. THe salsa music was blaring. Down the street on the kitty corner across from the field, was the black family father’s day celebration. Rap music thumping, grills going. Good times were being had. In between this, on the field were 10 men out in the field with one guy up to bat. They were in black dress pants, white button down shirts, black dress or running shoes, yalmukahs and tallis’ hanging out their shirts. A group of orthodox men playing softball. I had moment of “only in New York.” Orthodox. Puerto Ricans. Blacks. Grills. Softballs. Salsa. All within five minutes of each other.

I sat and watch the men play for a bit. First thing I noticed was how bad they were and how it would behoove them to let those women out. Second I realized how convenient it was for them to have ready-made uniforms. Then of course, I thought who are they praciticing to play? And I realized I needed to form the world religious league!

Please imagine each team in traditional religious garb for the full experience. Think mitres and dishdashes, turbans, and robes…and sandals.

The Abraham Division
The Orthodox Ocelots
The Catholic Cougars
The Muslim Mustangs

The Dalai Lama Division
The Hindu Hurricanes
The Buddhist Bobcats
The Sikh Silver Streaks

The Tom Cruise Division
The Wiccan Warriors
The Scientology Sabres
The Pagan Panthers

Each teamplays over the course of the summer and ultimately they play the Religion World Series. And I when I say the world series I mean it. Each year, the winner would determine what religion the entire world would follow until the next season. Now that’s a sports a tournament that would matter. I’m sure there’d be such a following they have to move out of Red Hook. It would be quite a summer series. The Halal guys could swap recipes with the Kosher guys. The Wiccans could trade make-up tips with the Pagans. And in the end, the great American Pastime would bring peace to the world, and I wouldn’t have to hear anymore about Michael Jackson.

No One Wants A Saggy Loaf

We all know the end of the world is nigh. If the Terrorists don’t kill us, the pigs will, if the pigs don’t, the ecoli bacteria will, if the Ebola bacteria doesn’t, global warming will, and the list goes on. But there is a crisis that has emerged that is more horrifying than all the above. It might not kill us outright, but it will so damage our way of life that a mass suicide is imminent. The baguette has become less crusty. Sacre Bleu!

Steven Kaplan (an American!) is the world’s greatest living authority on French bread. ” This is a significant and catastrophic trend,” said Mr. Kaplan. Yes, according to Kaplan, bakers are cutting cooking time which softens the crust – a response to the growing belief that food should melt in the mouth. Mr. Kaplan is having none of it: “The question is: do the French care any more, do they care about taste? When you eat their tomatoes, their carrots and their merlotised wine, you start to wonder. Are they not collaborating in their own cultural demise?”

Although I have been a victim of a crust-cut more than once…you know, when that crust is so damn hard it rips the roof of your mouth open, this new trend is unacceptable! When I say let’s break bread together, I want my bread to break! What will happen to that iconic image of happy French people riding their bicyclettes with a baguette sticking out the basket? No one wants to see a cyclist with a saggy loaf. How else can we pass off stale bread as fresh if all loaves are now as soft as Wonder bread? Egad, how will the French citizens defend themselves against burglars? They’ll have to get guns. It is truly the end of civilized culture as we know it.

Perhaps a letter writing campaign is in order. Or a UN Resolution. Mandatory dentures. Something. Anything. This is the issue I can and will get behind. If we don’t stop it now, what’s next? Creme Non-Brulee? Eggless quiches? A French President without a mistress?

World peace depends on this people. Act now or I promise you, the repercussions will be felt for generations to come.