Monday, June 30, 2008

Queen of the Road by Doreen Orion


Doreen Orion is the author of newly released Queen of the Road, "The True Tale of 47 States, 22,000 Miles, 200 Shoes, 2 Cats, 1 Poodle, a Husband, and a Bus with a Will of its Own." She's also a humor essayist and has written many stellar essays, a few can be found on Huffington Post here and here. Run. Read. Now. Fab.
Recently, Doreen was featured on Nevada NPR. You must listen to her dish Queen of the Road. She also blogs, "Medicinal Musings from a Mobile Shrink, AKA Queen of the Road".

I'm sure you've seen her around All the Way from Oy to Vey, she's left deliciously sarcastic comments-- she's just like us.

In this moment, Doreen is schlepping around the country reading and signing her book. I am looking forward to attending one of her readings because (A) she's a riot. (B) She wears a boa. (C) At her Las Vegas reading at Borders Books, an Elvis renewed one lucky couple's vows. what's not to love?!
I just bought Queen of the Road and should have it in a few days (I can't wait to read it). The minute I run into Mrs. Orion, I am going to beg her to sign it. I've dished with her plenty over email and she's as adorable, sweet, brilliant and hysterical as you'd imagine her to be. A genuine and cozy broad, like latkes and sour cream with homemade applesauce. Her work is as fabulous as she is.

You must run and buy yourself a copy of the Queen's book assssssssssssappy. Follow her book tour on her blog. Catch a reading. Check out her essays on HuffPo and listen to her podcasts, filled with excerpts from her book. She's SO FUNNY. I adore the girl.
Mazel Tov, bubbie!

Saturday, June 28, 2008

Mind Adrift


My mind wanders through inaneville when I take a 3-5 minute on-a-whim-shit, an unplanned evening, or late afternoon, shit, one that doesn’t need to be lured by freshly percolated coffee.

Often, parading curiously through my weird ass brain is the origin of words: Who decided to call fluffy white squares marshmallows? Molestation, why marry “mole” and “station”, two perfectly independent, doable words and turn them into a big fuckin’ nightmare. Who was the decision maker behind that gem? Nomenclature screams mutton chops. One of the meanings of nomenclature is dictionary, vocabulary or glossary. Loving words, I should have an affinity for this one. I just can’t get behind nomenclature; it sounds and feels like decrepit, beyond repair, vintage furniture. And we all know how much Katie loves vinty everything.

Last night’s on-a-whim-shit, my mind wandered, of course. What popped into my head wasn’t a word; it was a thought: I wonder what my psychiatrist looks like when he takes a dump. Does he push? Or let it roll? Does he read? If so, what’s his preference, doctorly mags or self-indulgent reads, like auto magazines, gossip rags, or self-helpy Deepak Chopra dish? Does his mind wander, too? Does he worry about hemorrhoids if he's on the can too long? Does he go through the medical process of shitting?

I was OCD'ng so hard about this for 2 minees that I forgot to make my on-a-whim shit. The shame...

Thursday, June 26, 2008

Guess Who's Birthday It Is?!


Today is my favorite pharmacist's birthday DrugMonkey. If you would please be so kind as to click your gorgeous tuchas's to his bloggy blog and wish that child a very happy birthday, I would be most appreciative. He's such a love machine, a honey of a fellah. I am so grateful to him for oh so many reasons.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DRUG DADDY OF DOOM :) You know I wish you the world, child.

XO

Jewgirl

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

We Have A Lot of Offensive Ground to Cover, so Perk Up or Click Away, I'm Just Sayin'


Teens Make Pregnancy Pact to get pregnant (WAIT, the pod just peeled. Back in a minee). I'm back. Didjya miss me? Just kidding. I think I whacked the pod. I plugged it in and it's not syncing up. It's okay, don't panic, I have another music source. I'm covered.

Back to the topic at hand. Wait... Oh, right. Duh, Schwartzy. Six teenagers at Gloucester high school made a pregnancy pact. Consumed by determination, one broadette fucked a homeless chap. Can you imagine cruising homeless shelters for cock after school?! It's like a bad Families in Crisis daytime special.

These girls want to be single mothers. Each month, they'd take pregnancy tests and sob when they got a "-" sign instead of a "+" sign. Though the school is one that practices abstinence (God forbid we educate American children about safe sex), the school nurse does provide pregnancy tests. Imagine her surprise when the same lot of 15-year-old's cried tears of joy when they found out they were knocked up. Giddy, planning their baby showers for each other, assuming their parents would be over the moon and none to pleased to assist in raising their babies, a light bulb flickered in the nurse's head, finally.

It was on the Today Show. Time Magazine broke the story.

One of the teenagers, a graduate of Gloucester high school, got pregnant at 15, too, citing that she blamed celebrity single mothers because she looked up to them. Assuming the preggy sophomores felt the same way. This bothered me. The whole thing made me neesh, really. Though, her statement felt like Kosher salt on the wound. The argument that Hollywood is responsible for perpetuating violence, teen pregnancy, immoral lifestyles and a gazillion other things is the impetus for censorship and the republican platform good ol' fashioned family values (shove it all in the closet and under the rug). A parent's job is to raise their kids, not the media's. Where's the sense of responsibility? (I know, I know, I know, shut up, Schwartzy, Gaaaahd. It's my fucking blog.)

Last point, I promise... teenagers experiment sexually and it doesn't mean they lack morals, at least I don't think so. Public schools should educate children about sex and all of the responsibility that goes with it. The idea that passing out condoms is the equivalent of shoving a teenypeeny in another teeny's veewee is absurd. And, hello, abortion. It is a choice. Every teenager and woman should have the right to a safe and legal abortion. Period. Period. Period. (Well, that comes after the abortion). Anyhoodle-doodle-do, everyone knows I'm pro-choice/pro-life. Personally, I believe that an abortion is stopping a process, nothing more. Children should not be having children.

PS: (Okay, I do have one more point. Sue me), for some reason, I have always felt that if I were to have a child, I'd do it on my own anyway. Not that I wouldn't want a mans in my life. I just wouldn't let not having a partner stop me from having children if I wanted them. Ya feel me? Are we same paging? Fab.

When I read about the yarn today and watched it on MSNBC, it got me too twisted up inside. I feel sooooo bad for these girls. I wish their parents would've jumped in and given them some kind of education about sex and the realities of parenting.

Moving along...

The Outsiders: Teens Caught Between Freedom and Faith, Amish Adolescents 'Run Around' Before Committing to Church or Leaving Community.
Did anyone catch this yarn on ABC Primetime last night about the Amish? My father used to take us to see the Amish often, it was festive. I remember the smell of butter and those kitsch ensamblays, a bit too racy for my taste.
The story followed four Amish teenagers who fled to the outside world, it's called Ordnung. Essentially, in order to become ordained within the church, there is an unwritten rule that teens can experience life in the "English" world to make an informed decision. What killed me about this story was that if a teen decides to live in our world for good, they have to leave their family behind forever. What a horrific, gut wrenching decision to make. What fascinated me was that the kids who chose to remain outside share the same basic values they were raised with, they just wanted more freedom. Again with the extremists--oy.

One of the kids, he was so camp. During his Ordnung, his parents let him trick out his buggie with an iPod, woofers and sub-woofers, I think they're called. He was rockin' out to ACDC tooling around in his bad ass buggie. I liked the way his parents incorporated the outside world into the Amish world. Still. I can't imagine living such an extreme lifestyle or having to make the choice between family and freedom. I could see the torment and suffering in their eyes-- Oh, how they pined for their rents and sibs. Truly heartbreaking.

Moving along....

Fondling Senior Year, Undergraduate School




Fondling the Graduate Edition


Is there anything left to say?!

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

What a Shituation



I wrote an essay called Shitvitation in my forthcoming book. Bubbsie and Oldest Daughter know the essay cause'ns I read it at the Fixx Reading Series. In short, my apartment manager had a girating asstastic experience on my porcelain goddess while dishing on the phone with one of his chippies. Oh, what a shitmare it was, just ask B or Amy. Amy and I were furiously emailing back and forth during Shituardo's fiesta for party of one.

On Monday, Shituardo and his sidekick, a lovely bloke who kindly smiles at everything I say, came over at 9AM to replace my tile-oleum with actual see-ramic tiles. Unprepared and terrified I'd be bombed again, I wrapped my toilet in duct tape and closed the door. I also offered up additional insurance, 20 bucks each for lunch. I spent the day standing guard in the living room as they ripped up the linoleum and replaced it with tiles or as my mother refers to them, teelays.

By 4PM, the tiles were down and the shitwins were leaving for the day. Curious. As you can see from the above picture, my refrigerator and kitchen table were in my living room in front of my "bedroom" (murphy bed) and my stove was in the walk-in closet. Fortunately, my couch magically converts to a bed, so I slept on that. My LR felt like white trashapalooza. All I was missing was a pig to roast, a Budweiser keg to tap and a few toothless kinfolk. I do believe if I had the aforementioned items, I would've been able to send out motel notepad stationary invitations for the event.

The next morning Shituardo was back, and so was the duct tape. He grouted the tiles and took off. Thinking he'd be back in 5 minees, after an hour, I called him and asked him what the plan was. He said, "I be yack-yat 2 wee-m." By 3PM there was no sign of Wardo. I called him and said, "It's waaaaay past 2 and I have a million things to do. I need to know exactly when you're going to be here to finish what you started." "I yo. I yo. I yo." He said, "Yive yinutes I be yack."

Fine. Fine. Fine.

30 minutes later he returned. As you can see from the below picture, the floor didn't get mopped. According to S-wardo, white-trashalvania could be reformed. However, he couldn't mop the floor until Wednesday because the grout needed to set. Funny, he could subject the grout to dragging a refrigerator, table and a stove across it, but cleaning it, well that was out.


FUCK THAT.

I'll do it myself at the crack'o. There is an upside, though. He didn't pillage my divaoilet. I have new tee-lays instead of puckering linoleum and it only cost me 40 bucks.

When I saw him on his knees grouting my floor with his ass in my face, I thought I really hope a proctologist wrangles his anus sooner than later to find a cure to his sewage crisis.

Poor guy.

FreidaBee's Love Letter


You must read FreidaBee's Love Letter to her Thyroid, Dear Thyroid, I miss You and I'm Sorry.

I laughed.

I cried.

Regardless of whether you have a thyroid issue or not, her letter has a very positive healing affect. It's beauuutiful.

Sunday, June 22, 2008

This Isn't a Joke


My sister sent me an email about Dita Legends, a new i-eyewear website. Her peeper windshields are all handcrafted and made of platinum, gun metal and every other, how-can-we-charge-more, metal, you can't think of. The above pair of specs are 750 DOLLARS. Take that in for a minute and just sit with it.


Pause.


Pause.


Pause.


SEVEN HUNDRED AND FIFTY DOLLARS. Click here for deets. For 750 dollars, those glasses should: dispense advice, provide sexual bliss beyond my wildest expectations and quite frankly, the world should be viewed to my altruistic taste every time I wear them.


Now it's your turn. What would a pair of 750 dollar glasses have to do for you?!?!

Saturday, June 21, 2008

Graduation Day


My sister Kerri, is graduating this morning. I am so proud of the girl!


We had dinner with my dad and Nick, youngest brother, last night, fab. I know it's a shitty picture. I was laughing when I took it. Cut a girl some slack. Is he not a riot?! So 21. I forgot what I was like when I was 21 and quickly remembered after 5-minutes. He's a great kid, brilliant and hilarsquared. The picture I took of my dad sucked ass. I'll get anothah one today, to post on Sunday.

I owe the divine miss FreidaBee an e-stalk, my onlineBFFfaheva, CormacB and my Frannylish. By Sunday, everyone will be e-stalked back.

Have a great weekend everyone. I know I am grossly behind on reading your fab bloggys. Sunday, I'm all ovah ya asses.

XO

Friday, June 20, 2008

Dish and That


I meant to publish this on Friday when I wrote it. Keep that in mind. XOXO'ng it.

It is hotter than a tropical climate dwelling gorilla's asshole outside. 93 degrees. I'm shvitsing myself into a God damned frenzy.

Some of the headlines over the past 24 hours are so short bus, I can't believe it: Victoria's Secret Sued Over Thong Incident: A broad tried on what she said was a faulty V-string. She claimed that one of the decorative metalic objects whacked her in the eye. I'm blue that she sustained an eye injury, of course. I just can't get past faulty V-string because it's such a straightforward item. Child Molester Wins Lottery. I can't find the article (argh), just a Yahoo Answers about it. Anyway, what I couldn't believe is that, well, he won. Weird. Or, that he didn't want to give 50% of the money to the victims and to various organizations dedicated to helping victims of molestation. Dick move. Not that he was such a charmer to begin with. One more, Bride Punches sister-in-law during their ceremony. Okay, creeparella, ya can't exercise a modicum of restraint?!

I'm too hot to breathe. Keeping you looped.

Have you heard about MyCemetery.com? The concept is lovely and healing, yes, that's true. It also makes me cock my head to the side and say, "Whaaaa?!" From the homepage: "Over the years, MyCemetery.com has grown to become the world's best-known online burial grounds. Thousands of visitors from all over the world come here every day to read and share the epitaphs, create personal memorials, and leave messages for their loved ones."

"World's best" and "online burial ground", let's just sit with that for a moment, shall we? Do you get a dedicated server as your "burial ground"? Shouldn't it be called virtually hosted burial plot? The site is divided into two sections, Virtual Memorials and Virtual Pet Cemetery. My first stop was the virch-p-sem and at the bottom there is an ad leading to LavaLand, a gaming site. I clicked over to the v-mems and each post has a little RIP tombstone (love a personal touch). At the bottom of the site there's that LavaLand ad again. Wait! I noticed something else, Honors & Awards. Before clicking, I thought My-p-sem gave out awards for the best written death or rated them with stars, 3-star death, 5-star death, and so on and so forth. I was wrong, this is my-p-sem's brag page.

After mocking them into a frenzy, I thought, you know, this is a good idea. Death sucks ass. When you're in a state of grace, perhaps it's comforting to have a virtual plot to visit. Though, I think each v-plot should be tricked out, yo. I would love tombstone options, crematoriums to visit, flowers (or as the Jews do, rocks) to leave on the t-stone. If you're going to go for it, fucking go for it, right? Right. Death it up. Give us dedicated death pages. Ask leading questions. I want to customize and personalize my v-death-spot with fervor. I want music, marches and tchoch. I want funerals, too.

It's SO HOT.

Thursday, June 19, 2008

Is A Made Girl A Wise Girl?




Oh, who the fuck am I kidding?! Guilt is my drug of choice. You know it and I know it. We would be nothing without each other. Peppered with shame, guilt blows heroin away, or so I'd like to assume.


Moving the story along... Today has been the most surreal day of my life, I think. Surreal stirred and shaken on the rocks, that's how surreal my today has been.
  1. I woke up.
  2. I slept 8 hours straight, for me that's huge. Usually, I sleep 3-4 if I'm lucky.
  3. It was a heat-hot day. I was indoors for the most part, so it wasn't too overwhelming to deal with.
  4. The morning was busier than usual, lots of calls to make and e-stalks to respond to.
  5. I got a lot of writing done, very positive.
  6. Blood was drawn, thanks to my psychiatrist-daddy-of-doom.
  7. My best friend's dog, my dog's first best friend, died today. Nobody wants to be a member of the Dead Dog's Club. I'm sitting shiva for Jimmy, a sweet, loving, tender dog who had an incredible impact on everyone who met him. I knew the moment he died because I felt LouieJew behind me saying, "Ma, don't worry, I got him." Ten minutes later my BF called and told me the news. Sadly, he'd been dying for the past few months. Let's send lots of love and light, please. Thaaaaaaaaank you.
  8. I had to run out after I got the news. I pulled out of my parking space. I was parallel parked in front of a Mercedes. I accidentally tapped her car with my car. Bitchybroad gets out of her car and in the most obnoxious I'm-from-Simi-Valley-accent, says, "Ah-mah-gaahd, you like totally um slammed into mah car." I said, "No, I tapped your car, barely." "Um, I felt it, and like that was a MAJOR hit." "I really need to go and it's just a fucking car. It's not the end of the world." "I need to check for damage." "The last time I checked, dead dogs trump shallowness." Before we parted ways, she cursed me out and of course said, "Sorry about your dog." "It's not my dog," I said. I don't know why I needed to clarify that as sternly as I did. Moving along.
  9. 1) I hope I run into her again or her car (not literally) because I'd like to apologize. Projecting my problems onto her was not fair and it's not something I do, it was wrong. 2) Just because cars aren't important to me doesn't give me the right to assume they shouldn't have value to her. Every person has the right to determine what they value and how dare I project my values onto someone else?! Again, not my style. 3) What I won't apologize for is hitting her car, when in fact, it was a tap. I might just leave a note on her car with all three points-- I'll feel better.
  10. My step-mother and my father found my blog. I never told them about my bloggy. My step-mother did a Google search for Katie Schwartz for no particular reason and happened upon my blog. I could hear my father in the background, "All the way from oy to vey". My ma doesn't even know I have a blog and my sister recently found out about it. My brothers don't know I have one, either. I haven't kept it a secret, I just haven't dished about it with them, it seemed so insignif. Now, I am swimming in guilt for not having told them. It never came up.
  11. My mother called this morning and I wasn't able to really listen to what she was telling me because I was multi-tasking myself into a frenzy. You know how you do and I felt so bad. I hate when a p-unit feels like I blew them off.
  12. I divulged a super secret to my psychiatrist today that I'm noivous about.
  13. I screamed at the eye glass man this afternoon for refusing to take two-seconds and answer a simple question, "Do you have post-cataract surgery sunglasses?" No, I'm not having cataract surgery, I just need surgical sunglasses to wear during the day to protect my mini-windows to the world. He was standing in front of a customer, waiting while the customer talked and laughed on the phone. He said, "I'm with a customer." "Right, I know that. He's on the phone and this is a quick and easy question." He shh'd me. I haaate being shhh'd. Anyway, I left the store after 10 minutes. Oh, and the customer was still on the phone when I left.
  14. In summary: I - FEEL - SO - GUILTY and SAD.
  15. It's almost 10 PM. I don't feel tired. I sure do hope I sleep.
  16. My dad is coming in tomorrow with my youngest brother, Nick. My step-mother isn't coming, though it would've been quite lovely if she did.
  17. My sister, Kerri is graduating from P-dine this weekend, her second masters. I'm so proud of the girl.
  18. More later.
  19. Love,
  20. Jewgirl

Sunday, June 15, 2008

Funniest Commercial Evah

video

Happy Father's Day


To all of the fabbylish pappa's who read All the Way from Oy to Vey, HAPPY FATHER'S DAY! Ya fabulous and ya dawta's love yas. Capisce?! Capisce!

Saturday, June 14, 2008

And a Life it is



Let's bullet point this bitch, shall we?!

  1. Long ass week from hell, though filled with beautiful moments.
  2. Deadlines galore, I'm glad about that.
  3. Awaiting feedback. Def on edge. I skew neurotic as often as possible.
  4. Big eye doctor appt on Monday or Tuesday, will know more on Monday. Noivous like nobody's bizola. I digress.
  5. An old friend who used to call me by my middle name Louie, popped up out of nowhere and it was great to hear from him.
  6. Missing another friend HARD, realizing that he never really was a friend to begin with, so I'm bluejewin' it for a minee.
  7. Running errands.
  8. Just bought two of Adam Deutsch's poetry books and I can't wait for them to arrive.
  9. Maybe I should stop listening to "Dr. Feelgood" and brush/floss and flee from the house for a minee. Yes, that's what I'll do.
  10. I've hit many of my favey blogs this AM and some dishy new ones, too, thanks to FranIAm and Politits. More reading ahead, to be sure.
  11. I'm off like a prom dress.
  12. More later.
  13. XO
  14. Katie

Sunday, June 08, 2008

Oh, Agadore


Yesterday morning, my sister Ker and I decided to hit a few gahoroohj sales. We began at Pete's for some butch Joe and schlepped around the hood. Nothing doing for blocks until we stumbled upon this situation: a gun packing, badge toting security guard. ?! He was 6ft. tall with a supple bosom and Charlie Chaplin eyebrows (plucked to perfection), a 14K gold plated chain around his neck and a heaaaaaaaaavy Greek accent.


We circled the spot a few times, not sure we should risk it. Would he bust out his gun and point it in our direction if we picked up an item and held it longer than 2 minutes? 5 minutes? 7 minutes? Were the owners of the house selling high ticket tchoch? Were they famous? Infamous?


After circling the house a few times, in the cheeriest tone, Agadore instructed us to park. We were curious and nervous, so we did. Aggie welcomed us a la Mr. Roarke from Fantasy Island.


This moment needed to be preserved on film. Pretending to take pictures of the garden, I positioned myself to click, when Agadore jumped in the center and said, "Take my picture instead." That's how I got the above pick.



We ambled through the driveway, the center of the sale. After Aggie's greeting, we got a cold welcome from one of the homeowners. His ass was planted on the back-door stoop. He was eating a fiber bagel bar with cream cheese (question, is that self-defeating or self-loathing?). "Help yourself to anything. We're sick to death of this shit and want to get rid of it," he said, spit-talking food. So vile.



We saw a giant box of white betamax tapes, not vinty fab glass, cheap ass Wal-Mart glass, vases, plates and statuettes. Oooh-oooh was that Jadeite I just spotted at the end of the table? Not so much. More like fauxite. Tattered and dusty, off-the-rack clothing to give the illusion of being vintage. Random crap scattered on the ground, in boxes, on fold-up card tables and in beat-up bookcases. Junk you wouldn't re-gift or send to an enemy.



Finally, we hit the garage part of the sale, and met the other homeowner, stalking the only true antique items available, 4 depression glass decanters. I know my vinty glass and these babies retailed at $25 a pop, maybe. After name dropping himself into a frenzy about all of the famous estate sales he'd been to, he looked at his pile of shit for sale and realized there wasn't a single testament to his tale. He quickly turned his back to us like a super model who only banked 5MM in 07' (DistributorCap, two MM's or one when it's a single digit million?)


Ker and I looked at each other, both feeling a wave of creepy darkness and flew out of there. Passing Agadore, he authoritatively said, "Stop!" Shit. We were about to get whacked by an over zealous Greek security guard at a shitroohj saleaaay in West LA on a Saturday morning. Oh, God, please don't let me peel out this way. I mean, really. Really?!



Smiling like he'd just won the lotto, he said, "Wouldn't I make a fabulous Kojak?" Simultaneously, Ker and I insecurely said, "Shhhure." To which he responded, "I sing, too."



Agadore broke into song. He ripped Papa can you hear me into shreds with a burst of sunlight beaming on his Kojak scalp. It was fuckin' tits.

As we drove away, it dawned on us that we were in The Birdcage and this was Agadore, part-time-faithful-house-boy-sometimes-leather-queen-full-time, I have a dream, to star in my own television show.

Though we can't help Agadore make his dream come true, we sure do hope some fabbylish telly executive passed by the sale Saturday to cast him in the remake of Kojak, Greek style, starring: Omega Agadore Papadiamantopoulos.

Friday, June 06, 2008

Man in Connecticut hit by car, ignored

Full article here. I can't tell you how deeply saddened I was to see this video and read about this.



A man was hit by a car TWICE and ignored by passing cars and pedestrians. Is it the shock that makes you not want to run to the middle of the street and hold his hand and tell him that he'll be okay, and that help is on the way? What is it? Because I REALLY need to know.











PS: Don't forget to sign the Million for Marriage Petition right here.

Support Marriage Equality for All


Please Sign this Petition. Please, please, please. Loving....

Thursday, June 05, 2008

A Bit More Dish



  1. From Tiffalish of UnScene Chicago: "Show your opposition to this homophobic, bigoted, and mean-spirited bill to amend the Constitution" You need to read it and oppose it. To say it's offensive is a compliment. What year is it? Oh, right, 2008. In case you're worried about what God thinks, believe me, God created homosexuals and heterosexuals equally. It is about time America woman up and man up, and get with the God damned program.

  2. Astonishing Adventures Magazine is now officially in print and available on Amazon! Run. Read. Now. Mazel Tov, Lewch, Tim and Katherine. Excellent job, yo. This read is pulp heaven.

  3. When pitching yourself for a job raising someone else's children, you might not want to use an email address that reads: "leather" and "nanny" before @. Just a thought.

  4. Did you read about the Air force Chief that Resigned? "Gates said his decision was based mainly on the damning conclusions of an internal report on the mistaken shipment to Taiwan of four Air Force electrical fuses for ballistic missile warheads. And he linked the underlying causes of that slip-up to another startling incident: the flight last August of a B-52 bomber that was mistakenly armed with six nuclear-tipped cruise missiles." Um... Oops?!

Wednesday, June 04, 2008

Twist Tie Guy


Ages and ages and aggggggggggges ago, I posted about the secret life of twist-ties. Remember? You don't? Okay, check it out here. I was OCD'ng hard about TT's at the time (what else is new?!)



I got a comment a few weeks ago regarding that post from RyanD. I saved it, hoping there was an e-addy attached, but there wasn't. However, I did look him up and he's a Twist-tie artist and sculptor and his work is pretty tt-fly. Check it out, yo.

Billy's Willy


I love web hosting emails with subject lines that read No Rack Fees. It always makes me think of the twins and how affordable it would be if they would just cross over to the bra space. Right now, I'm averaging $25 a tit for airport-security-alarm bra support.




Speaking of breasts, I saw Bill was on the news yesterday regarding the many women he's fucked and continues to fuck. Um. DUH. Every generation of woman I know wants Billy's willy in her Wageeena. He could be 110, hobbling on a cane and I'd still want him to dine on my Y.


I'm so tired today. All I want to do is make myself horizontal. I can't though, too much to do. Argharooney.


Speaking of Rooney, does Mickey still have a pulse? Okay, that was cunty. I take it back. I'm just so damn tired. I think I'm procrastinating. Yup. That's it, I'm being a big screaming procrastinating douche.

Shuf it Baby


Loverdeedo's, Jewgirl is about to hook yo' asses up! While I do love a fabulous heel, when it comes to comfort shoes, I am no joke. I give you Shuf's. Sure, they're a little hempy. I will have you know these unisex slip-on's will give your feet pleasure beyond your wildest dreams. I'm not kidding. I schlep everywhere in these babies and so will you. Oh, and, they're on sale from 80 duckets to $14. Please. Does it get any better? Run like a dawg and buy a pair. They come in red, brown, grey and beige. I have grey and brown (like we give a shit, Schwartz). PS: Make sure you get them a half size smaller than your foot size because they run big. I'm just sayin'.

Tuesday, June 03, 2008

If I had a Penny...




  1. ...for every prick that crawled up my ass today, I'd be Trump Daddy Doom with a far more fierce comb-over and all. Or, a super rich prossy. I did get bent over and paid, just not for sex.

  2. On an up note, I discovered a lovely new blog today called Cherry Ink: "It’s a place where you can share your experiences, imaginings, ponderings, feelings and questions. It’s your shared writing pad. Make yourself at home." Isn't that lovely?!

  3. Look what I happened upon today What Katie Did.

  4. Every day, I receive at least one email for another Katie Schwartz at katiegirl@gmail.com from all over the world. They're such personal emails. Katie Schwartz has been invited to baby showers, family reunions, alumni soiree's and my faves are the, "Katie, please take me back. I love you" emails. Awww. I do e-stalk them back though, and tell them it's the wrong Katie.

  5. More dish later.

  6. XO

  7. Jewgirl

Sunday, June 01, 2008

Random Dish




  1. Best Spam Headline from BFF PaintPusher: Well Hung Christian Single Russian Girls. I feel like it's missing, insert-transsexual "here". Or insert-God-Fearing-Men "here". Thoughts?
  2. Our Bethy girl has a photo credit! On Hollis Gillespie's site
  3. From my brother Ben, Mobile Locate. Check it out, you can locate anyone via their cell phone. Creepy enough?!
  4. Alterna Title Sequal Tive post by Cormac Brown is so fucking funny. Run. Read. Now.
  5. I broke up with Mac. I'm so sorry, I just couldn't do it. Mac is far too straightforward. I like an operating system that requires over-thinking. Please don't hate me.
  6. I almost got sent to Russia accidentally when trying to fly back to LA. How does one make that mistake?!
  7. Three hours into my flight from east to the west, I had an allergy attack and couldn't stop sneezing. The broad to my right kept glaring at me-- snatch. I was so irritated, I finally said, "You glaring at me will NOT make me stop sneezing." She laughed. Cuntola. Gahhhd.
  8. While in the Hamptons, Mr. Loooongggiiisland schlepped my bag onto the Jitney and said, "Fuck, this is heavy. What the hell ya got in hea, ya kids?" I said, "Just the adopted ones."
  9. I will be in NYC after the 4th of July. I expect to meet all NYC bloggers (if yas are in town).
  10. More later. I have a ton of blog reading to catch up on.
  11. Why is my Internetsso slow today?
  12. XO
  13. Schwartzy
  14. PS: I fucking love this picture.


The Dish On Pilcrow

The Pilcrow lit Fest was an extraordinary experience. The festival was a true celebration of all things writing and community building. There were so many brilliant writers and authors, Ben Tanzer, Gail Konop-Baker, Jill Alexander Essbaum, Steve Himmer, Angela Gant, Elaine Soloway, Elizabeth Crane, Adam Deutsch, the list is endless, here it is. Publishers, publicists, Internet Marketing Gurus, Zines, Timothy Schaffert's Omaha Literary Festival, The Rebuilt Books Auction to support the NOLA Library rebuilding project, which raised $4,000. All hosted and curated by Amy Guth. Please read her detailed post about the entire weekend, it is most inspiring. I'm so proud of her and what she accomplished. Pilcrow's first year was one hell of a success!




Two wonderful documentarians I had the privilege of meeting, run the site UnScene Chicago, Tiffany Tate and Sawyer Lahr, they are so lovely and fabulously talented. (Side note) Tiffany, bubbie, you couldn't make a girl look thinnah, dahlink?!)



Fixx Reading Series - 052208 from TheFemGeek on Vimeo. More dish on the festival on UnScene Chicago.




Bubbsie is the shit. I want to join the B-clan. Meeting him in person and spending time with him, Oldest Daughter and Youngest Daughter was such a treat. His family will take your wig off. They are each so very unique, warm, wicked smart and funny as hell.




I hadn't been on a stage in 2-years, so it was quite amazing to get my legs back, as the saying goes, at The Fixx Reading series, a wonderfully supportive environment. I saw many aspects of old Katie-ism's resurface when I was certain they were MIA for good, the improvising, for example. I saw new things, too. My mind is still in recovery, for lack of a better expression from the Graves'. Instead of ignoring when I'd lose my place, I pointed it out. Previously, I zealously stuck to the material I was reading and breezed past what I missed. I'm curious to see how I change in future readings, to be announced this summer. Plenty of readings to come.




Pilcrow also marked my "Coming out" of semi-reclusion. I couldn't have chosen a more nourishing way to get out.




On Friday, the official day Pilcrow started, I got great news from my endocrinologist. My thyroid is ... NORMAL. Say it again. NORMAL. One more time. NORMAL. I am so happy, I can't stand it. Oh, and, as of this morning, I am down 24.5 pounds. YA-HOOZEY.




Sitting on
panels was a fantastic experience, I absolutely loved it, Multi-format writing and dishing with other writers about how many mediums each writer focuses on. The Assey Not Classy panel was too festive for words, really. Professionalism, burning bridges, when to speak up and hold your tonuge-- so fantastic. On Re-Routing Recovery, it was incredible to hear everyone's story and share my own. Learning the impact of the creative process and being sick / healing and how each person dealt with it or literally changed their writing styles was fascinating. I went to every panel I could and learned so much about marketing your book online and offline and came up with some fabbylish ideas, too.




I'm hitting all of your bloggies this weekend to catch up and see what ya's have been up to. I got back into town last night. Here I am. Let's dish.

 

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