Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Natural Woman

I’m sick to death of looking at the image of that unibrow that tried to kill New York. Ladies, once more: If you KNOW you're about to make headlines as the central operative of a high-profile terrorist attack, please...tweeze that shit beforehand! Obviously I’m referring to the man recently arrested as the suspect accused of planting what could potentially have been the biggest bomb to hit Times Square since Dance of the Vampires. Hold for laughter, two, three… (In fairness, that joke’s not an original. Jim Caruso said it to me yesterday, and when I threw a tantrum because I wanted to be the one to come up with it first, he said I could steal it. So there it is. And I came up with it.)

I will say, my tension from all this terror talk was slightly relieved when the NY Times reported the bomb as no more than “a Rube Goldberg contraption”. Apparently, it was made of, like, fishing wire, sequins and a couple of rubber chickens. And that schmuck didn’t even really know how to set it off, which doesn’t surprise me. There are literally dozens of terrorists in my neighborhood (sorry… “Pro-Terror Naturalized Americans” in my neighborhood), and all the ones I’ve hooked up with have never even come close to igniting any flames, if you catch my drift...

TERRORIST DATERS, AM I RIGHT??? Hold for laughter, six, seven, eight…

Anyway, I can joke all I want, but the truth is, this stuff does get to me. I tell myself that it doesn't, but it inevitably does. Last night I had the most vivid, absurd dream (one of those that feels like it's three hours with no intermission): A bomb went off in New York, but instead of a big explosion, it emitted this pink gas that covered the city. When inhaled, it didn't kill us, but instead left us with these bizarre afflictions. Mine was that my nose could suddenly talk and every time I smelled something, it would comment. Like, "Oh, that pie smells delicious", or "Ugh, that cologne smells like my nose-ass!" (It was a real Jewish nose, if you will.) One of my friends grew donkey ears, and another (I swear, this was my dream) grew pizza on her ass. Like, just a whole pepperoni pizza sprouting right from her ass!

Apparently the ultimate terrorist, as manifested in my mind, is Endora from "Bewitched".

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