breast cam

Sometimes I worry that I'm missing great shit when I pass over Larry King Live and the Charlie Rose Show because my digital cable guide never tells me who the guests are and I'm too lazy to actually click on the program to find out. Last weekend Larry King was calling out to me like a siren. I just had to find out who made the weekend recap episode. Surprise! I tune in to Larry trying to interview Motley Crue, but he's so woefully out of touch with their history and ouvre that he's forced to fill the hour with phone call questions. The first question involves Tommy Lee's infamous "titty cam" and Larry looks mostly bewildered with a hint of disgust. Nikki Six and Vince Neil also field questions. The band had been on for almost 10 mins before cutting to camera 3 and revealing that poor Mick Mars is stranded on far side of the interview table. I didn't even know he was there! C'mon Larry, Mick Mars may not be my favorite person to look at, but I'd rather watch him than you!



















Last month I had the shall we say opportunity to meet my cousin's wife Kelly and their five kids for the first time at their apartment. To be honest I was expecting a scene like this one from Raising Arizona, but despite a voracious appetite for cheese puffs the kids were very well behaved. It was Kelly that wrote the proverbial 'fart' on the wall. She and I had some previous beef about some viciously nasty letters she wrote to my mom begging for money, so I wasn't expecting Martha Stewart to answer the door. The purpose of my visit was to pick up something for her hospitalized father-in-law, my uncle Gary. I'm not there 3 minutes and she's giving me a hard sell about how Gary Sr. wants her family to have his truck, all of his money and his guns - and me and my mom better know it. What the fuck do I want with guns? And my mom doesn't even drive! She has no need of a truck or guns. Also Gary Sr. isn't dead, he's just sick. I'm sure he wants his truck, his money and his guns! Plus she goes on to tell me that she seldom gets out of bed before noon. Noon? You have five kids! One's a toddler! Does she just leave snacks scattered around the apartment for them to eat? I spent most of the visit thinking, "Please be kidding me," and staring at Kelly's immodest display of skin. She was showing a lot of ink, and I was tempted to ask if the theatre masks on her arm were for her love of drama club or Motley Crue. Then she asks me what age I am and when I answer replies, "I didn't realize you were older than me." Alright cue to leave.

Turns out Kelly & Co ransacked Gary Sr.'s house while he was away, so I think he officially only has his truck left.

chock full of rock

My life used to be full of rock - concerts every week, total band preoccupation. Now? Not so much, but last week was a throwback. 3 shows, 2 even in one night. First up was R.E.M. at MSG. A total delight. It seems like I've loved this band forever, but sometimes I forget just how much Peter Buck's guitar stylings are my favorite. Anytime I can sing along to the riffs with as much or more enthusiasm as the melody I'm in heaven. Don't get me wrong, I love Michael Stipe too. Does any other lead singer sound as great basically whining at top volume? I mean that with the greatest warmth and respect. He sounded unbelievable all evening, but I was particularly impressed with the way he just howled out "The One I Love". It was magical. And Mike Mills not only played fabulously, but he was also sexy as hell. Who knew that "Harborcoat" would propel me out of my seat with such ferocity? I shook my stuff so hard I almost took out the guy to left and to the front of me.

Then onto Sloan. Seeing them is like eating my favorite meal, so I really like seeing them. This show could have been ruined by Patrick's hat and also a terribly inconsiderate and tall asshole who decided he needed to be right in front of us. In a nice break from tradition he was so pathetic that the absurdness of the situation was more humorous than annoying. His excuse when pressed was that his ex-girlfriend used to sleep with Chris so he needed to be right up front. What for? To measure up Chris' crotch? Very funny stuff. Especially when Lola gave him a verbal smackdown when he tried the same move a few songs later. I also enjoyed the stuffing out of the group of boys who sang "Witch's Wand" like it was written for them, handclaps and all. Chris trying to pull off a frontman routine during "She Says What She Means" was the cherry on this comedy sundae. Forget the UCB folks!

I'm addicted to sweets and proud of it!

One of my newer favorite things on TV are the fabulous documentaries BBC America airs on Sunday night. The first one I caught was "Love me, Love my Doll" about men who replace human companionship with full size silicone women called Real Dolls. My favorite quote is from a very sweet gentlemen who claims he could never have the same relationship he enjoys with his Real Doll with an "organic woman". All of the docs have an inclusive tone which I really enjoy. The filmmakers aren't trying to put their subjects on a freak show display, but trying to show that everyone has something a little odd about them whether it's their voracious appetite for sex or preoccupation with their smallish boobs.

So last night I watched "Transvestite Wives" about you guessed it, husbands and boyfriends who like to dress up like women. It was very sweet even though the wigs were frankly disgraceful. Also I think Rachel could do with a little lipstick. C'mon Rachel it's your fortieth birthday, even I put on a full face for a party! At one point one of the couples take out their pre-op friend Roxy for her first public foray in daylight. Congratulations Roxy, but you might want to think about nailing down walking around as a women before you actually take steps to become one permanently. Actually Roxy inspired me. Right after the program I went out to John's, my local bodega, and bought a pint of Ben and Jerry's Cinnamon Buns ice cream. Then in a very green moment I turned down a shopping bag and walked back to my house pint in hand, head held high, despite the knowing looks from my neighbors. That's right Greenpoint, I'm single lady who enjoys ice cream and plans to polish this pint (with a little help from Jane) off tonight. And guess what? I like fluffy cats too. They didn't even know that I had already indulged that very day in a lovely double scoop at our local outpost of the Brooklyn Ice Cream Factory. Not to mention a delicious cookie sandwich from the Treats Truck.

Hopefully this was positive sign that I'm increasingly more comfortable with myself and not that I really belong on an episode of Intervention.