Death and Then Some......

This has been a week of loss. Last Monday started with my friend Bob Cummings in Las Vegas. Sporting a cowboy hat and with a deep velvety speaking voice mellifluous to be exact, he was radio. Bob worked on the mic and off the mic. Sometimes for the heck of it, we would ask Bob to say the weather.

Bob had a gentle nature and was very humble about his talents, on the mic and behind the scenes. He had a good sense of humor. The two of us could not have differed more politically, but Bob and I were able to laugh about it. I can still hear Bob's laugh and see his cowboy hat. He would say, "Hey Big Guy." He called everyone Big Guy, even me.

Well Bob got cancer. He started chemo. It was going to be okay. A lot of people get cancer and recover and go into remission for years. Bob wasn't going to be so lucky. Cancer took him last Monday. He could barely hold his head up let alone speak. He's out of pain but I want to say, "Cancer you are a fucking bitch. You suck worse than the hooker with one tooth at Coney Island who isn't good enough for the Atlantic City Boardwalk where they have top notch trash."

I did my show the night Bob died. It was a success. I impressed the right people. I told myself Bob would have been proud. Bob was part of a group of people who believed in me as I was facing eviction and made the decision to leave my mentally ill partner. He gave awesome hugs. Thought I should have mentioned that.

Of course as I am getting over that loss, I have another dead friend moment. It's my buddy Scott. He's been dead for a few years. Scott was a part of a group of friends I had a few years ago. He knew a buddy of mine who had a house in Astoria. An odd creature, he was the first and only Log Cabin Republican I have ever met. Scott was kind, funny, and like Bob, we could not have disagreed more politically.

Scott was more of a "don't tax me bitch" conservative. When I pointed out he was voting against himself he replied with, "Well don't tax me bitch." We laughed about it. Scott was sort of like a big brother who liked the same clothes I did. Anyway, he lost his job and moved back in with his parents on Long Island. At that point, because he was out of sight out of mind we lost contact. Until I read on facebook he had died. Actually, his sister had checked him into hospice the day before. Facebook can be morbid and unintentionally funny at the same time like that. Either way, apparently he too had cancer and it had progressed quickly.

In any event, I was on my way to the dentist and didn't want to go. Then I realized my dentist was in Scott's old hood. It was like WTF?!?! I haven't been here since Scott.....and then I also realized Scott would have told me to stop being an asshole and go to the dentist. Those would have been his words. But cancer got him too. Seriously cancer, you are a bitch. A stupid bitch. Luckily you are a disease otherwise you probably wouldnt have a face cause someone would rearrange it.

Days later, my ex did something crazy. As I mentioned he's mentally ill. He had the bright idea to find me on Skype. What he hoped he would get I don't know. After the death of one friend and now my dental issues this was just something to further piss me off. I told myself there had been enough death this week. Why pick up a felony charge cause I beat the shit out of his dumb ass?

Anyway, I had another friend die Monday. Also Scott. Scott had been a club manager who was good to me. Scott was amazing actually. At the time, my drinking had raged out of control and I was trying to get my proverbial shit together. Scott was supportive. There were people who told Scott I was mentally unstable. They tried to talk him out of booking me. Scott didn't listen. Instead, he saw my natural talent and decided to give me a shot.

At the time, Scott was managing a flag ship club and his fairness was his best and worst asset to the comedians. It was good because if he saw potential he opened the door regardless. It wasn't because Scott didn't put up with shit from established comedians who thought they could do as they pleased. But Scott was fair.

At the time there was a show producer that was harassing me. Untreated bipolar, he was threatening me and making me feel unsafe. Scott wanted me on his weekly show. I told Scott I was terrified of this person. Scott fired him from his own show so I would feel safe. That's who Scott was.

I got to know Scott and his family quite well. For perhaps being too fair, Scott was forced out/quit the comedy club he managed and moved on to other things. And then he moved to Long Island. Because of the move, I wasnt close to him or his family like I had been.

Anyway, Scott got cancer. He got sick rather quickly. He died last night. I cried buckets. I wanted to say to cancer, "You are officially a cunt. End of story. Make that super cunt."

Needless to say, as the news is being handed down, my mom calls me to freak out about my life. It's her yearly meltdown about my existence. She's being a mom. While the timing is never good for the yearly meltdown about your kid's life, this year it was especially terrible.

To make myself feel better, I watched Milk. I was trying to remember when I saw Milk. Then I remembered it was with my friend Chacho. Yes, one of my besties who died as a result of drugs. It was fucking morbid as all shit when I realized this, more like fucking Christ. Fucking Christ. Fucking Christ.

But then I laughed. At least he didn't die of cancer. He broke the mold. He died after a drug driven orgy. Sure addiction has a stigma but he went out doing what he loved most. What a morbid fucking evening. Chacho would ask me why I wasn't with some nice looking black dude. Addiction is a whore too, only she's cancer's less attractive but more ruthless sister. Are they even related? Hell if I know......

This morning I woke up feeling like I was hit by a truck. I had a meltdown on facebook the night before like an adult. I also saw my mom sent me several emails kind of apologizing. Hell if I know.
I got my coffee this morning and met a little girl who has my same birthday. It was crazy. It was funny. It was happy. It was hopeful. She pointed right at me and giggled. Like yeah......you stole my birthday. No, I had it 31 years before you. I am that old.

Then it made me think of Chacho's brother. His ex wife had made his life hell, and took his kid out of the country. But then she remarried and was having a kid with her second husband. Chacho's brother went to visit his ex wife in the hospital. I asked him why. He said they were family. I pointed out that this woman made his life hell. Chacho's brother pointed out that it was true, but she was his daughter's mother and life was too short to hold a grudge.

Maybe he's right. The crap with my asshole ex. The crap with my mom's meltdown over my life. The crap that is crap. Life is freaking short. We will all be gone as quickly as we came. And somewhere in the world there is someone wearing a diaper that has your birthday.

And yes cancer, if you haven't forgotten, you fucking suck.

Discipline

Yesterday was one of those days. I had a terrible case of the runs-more than you wanted to know-and had a tech run through at Don't Tell Mama for my show. My pianist came and was feeling the burn from the West Coast as he just got off the road. We both had a long week. Me with my telegram deliveries and him with his gigging. Coffee wasn't enough and neither was vitamin water.

The rehearsal went okay but we clearly needed another before the show. As we are packing up I am talking to a friend who's in the space after me. I was running my mouth, thinking I could put my feet up for a tad before my next destination.

Then on the subway I discover I forgot the ipad at the theatre. FUUUUCCCCCKKKKKKK!!!!

I even screamed it on the train. FUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!

It's the 7 so a lot of the train doesn't speak English, but they understood that word. I go home, drop my shit in more ways then one, and run to to the venue. They have my ipad. THANK GOD!!!! The bartender had a good sense of humor, but they all thought I was crazy. I earned it.

I met a buddy for a gnosh and then went to charge my phone in Port Authority. I dunno why I went there, but finding an outlet in NYC is like finding Waldo in a crack den where everyone is dressed like Waldo. So I find a plug and a homeless dude hits on me. Then a dude with one leg comes over and wants to use the outlet. Of course he's homeless so he spills his booze. Then he gets into a fight with an old homeless dude who then begins fighting with a tranny.

That's when I pick up and find another outlet.

At that moment I am approached by a man speaking his own language. He asks me where Chelsea is and I tell him. He then asks what's in my box. When I don't answer he starts screaming at me. I run. He follows. I run. I lose him. What the fuck just happened?!

I get to a diner and kill some time. I drink some coffee. I talk to the mentor. I watch the clock as I kvetch. He laughs at me. The weather is warm where he is. He's paid his dues. He thinks my life is funny. Is it? I dunno.

Finally I get to the last stop on the train. IT's New York Comedy Club. It's the Paid or Pain Show. I know I am gonna get disciplined by the dom. It's fine. Yes, they have a dom. Jay Nog has worked hard and made quite a show and now it's on Sirius. I'm gonna be on the radio. Life is good.

I am first up. I am gonna get pain. I know it. I even tell the audience as much. They laugh. I pull out Donald J. Tramp. I'm doing fine but it's a puppet. I am gonnna get pain. Jordan Carlos does a great Trump impression where he tells me I'm great but the puppet is a liar. The other judge says I'm funny but a puppet act is difficult to kill with consistently. He's right.

And I do get pain.

The violet wand. It's fine. It's the perfect end to this trippy day.

But a producer offers me more spots. I make new friends. I'm gonna be on the radio in 2 weeks. And I shill out a few bucks for the cab ride home.

Come requires dedication. It requires discipline. It requires a violent wand. It requires a brave heart. It requires just relaxing and enjoying the ride. Sometimes we all need a little whipped into shape

Come see my show
The Lady and President Tramp
February 20, 2017 7pm
Dont Tell Mama
343 W 46 street

Mean......

The last two days have been a maelstrom of shit. An old enemy of mine has come out of the wood work. I won't say too much about her but she is a bitch. Actually, I'm not her enemy. She declared me her psychotic enemy. I wasn't aware I was living in a comic book and we were Hob Goblin and Spider Man but apparently we are.

Without getting into too much detail, she has gone out of her way to slander me and lie about me over the years. It's sad. It's truly sad. She has said nasty things about me and the people I care about. And now without getting into it she has done something where she has really stepped over the line. Even for her.

I don't want to talk about what she did, other than the fact that it gave me a terrible stomach ache and nearly made me throw up. I know she has a drug problem. I know she is sober for less than an hour a day. I know she has issues. I know all of this, but it doesn't mean her behavior doesn't suck.

The sad thing is, this is all over a dude. I was with this guy for maybe six months. She has been with him for a few years now. They own property and have a pet. What the fuck does she want with me? I. DON'T. WANT. YOUR. MAN.

This junior high bullshit still gets me down even after all this time. Yesterday my boss says when he meets people like that he just keeps going. My mentor, an ex cop, says during his time in law enforcement he met people who just are bad. I know she has problems. I know this particular ex is part of a circle where they stir the pot. But Jesus Christ why you gotta be so mean?!

This mean girl shit is what costs the Dems the White House. WOMEN turned against Hillary. WOMEN decided they weren't with her. Yes WOMEN sold each other down the river and now our reproductive rights are in danger. Other WOMEN.

This shit is what has held my gender back. Either way, the beautiful thing about the snow storm yesterday was the children running about and sledding. It made me remember there was a big, wide world outside of this fugly bitch. It made me happy. It made me realize she was just a speck of dust in the world. And it made me grateful that junior high was in fact over.

Come see my show
The Lady and President Tramp
February 20, 2017
7pm
Dont Tell Mama
343 W 46 street

Block Me

The other day someone reported one of Donald J. Tramp's posts to facebook. It was stupid. It was ugly. It was a low blow. I have a feeling it was either an ex boyfriend or someone who wanted to thwart my progress. Or maybe it was a Trumpkin who was offended I was making fun of our president. Maybe it was a liberal who didn't vote for either candidate that just wants to be offended by everything.

Either way, the whole thing was stupid. It pissed me off. I had to fight not to break every blessed thing in the room I was in. Then I was like fuck it. I need a day or two or five off of social media. Away from the right who can't have a conversation but instead want to shove faith down my throat. Away from the left who wants to censor everyone and talk about how there is no God. Away from the Nazis on both sides.

It has become a dangerous world.

It has become a world where when you make a joke, someone gets offended. Someone liberal gets butthurt. Some Trumpkin gets angry and boycotts and whines on twitter. You both need to put on some big boy/girl pants and grow up. You are both worthless. You are both what is wrong with America. If something offends you, change the channel. Don't go to the page. But by God don't censor the person.

If you disagree with someone have a conversation. You might learn something. A lot of gun owners and members of the NRA are not evil people. My sister is a champion markswoman who cares about gun safety. As an ER doctor she treats gun injuries and has given a presentation on gun safety and prevention several times. Others, like my cousin who is a teacher in Alaska, carry a gun to school because he might meet a giant Polar Bear or Grizzly Bear on the road. He has several times. Hey, it's a safety thing. Others are ranchers who live miles away from the actual cops. Many are not evil racist people.

Does abortion offend you? Have a conversation. Many times pro-lifers yell and scream about dead babies. Let me tell you not everyone who has an abortion is evil. Some are cases of rape and incest. Other times the woman is on her own and doesnt have familial support. If the guy can walk away why can't she? Additionally sometimes a woman is pushed into a pregnancy by a partner against her will. Her body, her choice.

Of course they always shut the discussion down by screaming about the genocide and the babies murdered as a result of abortion. How about this. We have the babies, drop them at your door, and tell you to raise them. They kids are gonna be on welfare as are their mamas, and you're gonna be paying for them anyway. Why not? When I have said this a few idiot pro-lifers have sputtered.

However, I know some pro-lifers who will have the convo. There are many who support adoption as do I. I have 6 adopted cousins. I say we need to make it easier for people to adopt. We need more options for single mothers who keep the kids to finish high school. When Pro-Lifers are open to this convo and want to create options, I am all there.

But we have to talk to each other. LISTEN! We have lost the ability to have a discussion. IT was asinine that Mitch McConnell shut Liz Warren down. Let Liz speak. Yes, disagree with her. Don't evoke an archaic statue to shut her down when you don't do this with your male colleagues. Let her speak. Even some pro-Trump freedom of speech peeps agree with me here.

Bottom line, the First Amendment means you have the right to worship and the right to your opinions and to voice these opinions. Someone else has the right to tell you that worshiping a man who rose from the dead is stupid, but they have no right to shut you down. I might tell you Trump is a maniac xenophobe, but I have no right to intimidate you into voting the way I want you to. Just as someone feels divinely inspired to speak out, someone else feels divinely inspired to oppose. That's how freedom of speech works.

So to those of you that do the little bitch thing of reporting someone, you're making me famousssss

Come see The Lady and President Tramp

February 20, 2017 7PM

Dont Tell Mama

343 W. 46 Street

Another Night (Aretha Franklin)

A little over a year ago I ended a relationship with someone I was working on building a life with. It ended suddenly, horrifically actually. It’s hard to talk about what happened, because the words even after all this time can barely form. However, it was due in a large part to my former partner being mentally ill.

After living with a mentally ill partner, you look at life very differently. For starters you get sick when people equate mental illness to cancer. People with cancer don’t lie. People with cancer seldom refuse to comply with treatment. You don’t see untreated cancer patients in prison or on the street. Cancer patients don’t self-medicate with drugs and alcohol. There is not a fucking stigma against cancer. 

People know cancer isn’t a choice, but they feel you are making a choice to be mentally ill. And when a celeb who’s spoken about cancer comes on the screen everyone is all misty eyed. When it’s someone who spoke about combating mental illness, ohh look at the crazy bitch or bastard.

If you have ever dealt with someone who’s mentally ill, you know they lie and act out in ways that are insulting, baffling, and outright immature. When things ended, my ex did a lot of that. I told myself he was sick a million times a day. I had to. It kept me from going crazy. It kept me from breaking something. It kept me from being sucked back into his shit which was what he wanted. Eventually I ran out of fucks to give and moved on with myself.

A year later, I was out of my unsafe living situation and away from my unstable former partner. Instead, I found myself marching with STAT, Donald J. Tramp as spokespuppet, heading the largest Anti-Trump protest at the RNC that year. We were number 8 on twitter, trending that day. People asked me if I was scared. I remember thinking, “I had bed bugs eating me alive, couldn’t breathe, and had an unstable Iraq War vet boyfriend looking for Isis in the windows. All and all, this is perhaps the safest situation I have been a part of in a while.”

In 2015, my birthday was spent scheduling free legal help at my local neighborhood legal. It was also picking up the pieces after my ex’s devastating departure. This past year it was spent at Hofstra, protesting/street performing outside the debates with Donald J. Tramp. I didn’t need a party. Being a part of American history was a better present than I could have ever dreamed of.

One year prior to the debates, my ex’s sister had called to threaten me. A year later, I was credentialed press in Las Vegas with puppet journalist Donald J. Tramp. I was in the spin room when Donald Trump uttered “bad hombres” and “nasty, nasty woman.” I watched it all unfold, and for as much as his idiot sister or any other woman he manipulated could and would say, they weren’t there with me. Nor would they ever be.

This time last year, I was rebuilding my life after a devastating defeat. Now I am getting ready to return to Restaurant Row with a one woman show. I just showcased at APAP. I am a correspondent for a blog. I am getting ready to teach a ventriloquism class.

The lessons were hard. One was that love isn’t enough. Love wasn’t enough to make my ex get help. Love wasn’t enough to make my ex stop lying. Love wasn’t enough to justify the fact his rages coupled with black outs were getting worse and worse, and that it was getting to the point where my safety was in jeopardy. In my heart, I know he was kind and giving. I know he would have never intentionally hurt me. But people who are mentally ill flip and kill people all the time, especially if they have mood swings and aren’t medicated. My ex claimed meds failed him and refused a medication regimen.

When my sister got married this summer, her priest alluded to the fact that a married couple lives for each other. The truth is, that’s codependency. You don’t live for anyone. The other person is a part of your life not your whole life. All relationships come to an end whether one partner leaves or dies or whatever. And guess what, you have to move on.

You also realize that a person is just a person. They have their faults. They will fuck up. They will disappoint you. And at the end of the day, good and bad, my ex was just a guy. Yeah, I cried when he left but then they handed me eviction papers. I had to pick my ass up off the ground and go to court to fight my landlord who was turning off my water because I called the city on him. My ex wasn’t there to support me. My family was far away. Really and truly, I was on my own.

No man was there to support me and none was going to materialize. At times like this, you see whether or not you are really and truly a feminist. Most women yell and scream about it, but when the time comes to step up to the plate they don’t. I had to step up to the plate. I had to deal with their demeaning bully boy male lawyers. I didn’t have time to cry.

As I was deciding to get the on with it all, it became easier to get rid of all the shit of his I accumulated. It became easier to block him on social media. It became easier to block his number. It became easier to block his sisters and female friends who are all horrific harpies who enable him. It became easier to date other guys. It became easier to grow into my new life It became easier to be define by my own self-worth, not that of a relationship.

The week my sister got married one of her friends was sad that she was the last one who was single in the group. Feeling the feelings weddings bring up, she asked me if I was upset my sister was getting married and I wasn’t. The answer was a huge NO. I love my brother in law like the baby brother I never had, and think he’s perfect for my sister. But I know how it feels to be with someone who’s toxic and bad for me. I know it’s better to be alone then to be with that, and it’s alright to be alone.

I know a relationship does not define me, and am reminded that good friends are better than a partner any day. I have two wonderful housemates, one obsessed with UFOs and the other a happier Van Gough who are characters that were there for me last year when I had a cancer scare. (Yes, what wasn’t happening). I have an awesome job where I get paid to make people happy, and an even more awesome boss who puts me front and center whenever I can. I have an awesome mentor in Las Vegas, and his people are awesome. I have an awesome friend who’s a mentalist that awesomely predicted the Super Bowl. I have an awesome friend who was my puppet wrangler and has been front and center through all my madness. I have an awesome family.

So this Valentine’s Day, I wont be getting flowers or candy and that’s alright. My life is full of people who love and support me, and someone people don’t even have one person who loves and supports them……and those people are in committed relationships!

Bottom line, if you are in a rough time, you can rock your way out. If the Pats can win the Super Bowl, you can climb out of your pit of despair. And being alone is better than being with someone who’s unhealthy for you. At the end of the day you can have all the love in the world but you really gotta love yourself. Just saying kids. This is as deep as this bitch gets for now. 

Come see The Lady and President Tramp

February 20, 2017 7PM

Dont Tell Mama

343 W. 46 Street