thehouseofvon.com

Chris Brown & Rihanna are collaborating on 2 new songs together:

                Birthday Cake (In Your Face)

                                      and  

Turn Up The Music (Before I Beat Your Head Into The Car Window)

Let the beatings continue.........

For as long as I can remember the story always was that older women (Cougars) liked to find sexual companionship with much younger men (Cubs). The reason being that younger men can keep up with the sex drive of a woman who is at her sexual peak without having to pop a Viagra and won't have a heart attack or stroke if a third or fourth round of sexual romper room is requested. Also, younger men are willing to learn new tricks and can easily be put on the correct path to pleasing their much older lady friend.

Being a woman in her early thirties (Puma) I just can't seem to grasp the idea of sleeping with or dating a much younger man. The youngest man I dated was only five weeks younger than me. My belief is that men mature at a much slower rate than women. If I were to jump into bed with a twenty-five year old it would be like dealing with a teenager and my name is not Sandusky! I'm not saying that when I hit my forties my views won't change but for now I'll stick with dating men that are a bit older than me.

Before I begin my story I will educate you with some Urban terminology so that we are all on the same page during this magical tell tale of how I got revenge on a "man" that would rather sleep with Betty White over Angelina Jolie.

Cougar: A woman 40 or above that is in her sexual prime who prefers to hunt rather than be hunted. A cougar's victims are usually under 25, as cougars prefer to mate with men who still have hair. Cougars generally feed and then continue hunting, as they enjoy role reversal.

Puma: An attractive woman in her late 20s or early 30s.

Cub: Cub is a name of young guy who likes to date older women or bang em.

Let the humiliation begin.......

As some of you know I was in a committed relationship for the past eight months. I started dating a friend, we'll call him "Dave", that I was writing for and we fell in love with the blink of an eye. The on going joke was that "Dave" was always into much older women and that dating me was a change of pace for him. The jokes never bothered me but they did intrigue me. What was so great about dating an older woman? I mean most single women, even in their thirties, come with baggage (even me). They're either divorced, have children or other issues that come with getting older and living life. Could it be that this Cougar Phenomenon was strictly because older women are fantastic in bed and will take control and dominate their prey? YEP! Bottom line is that older women are a complete and utter turn on to most men thirty and under. It's almost like a sexual fantasy to these Cubs who need guidance and want to be told what to do and taught how to do it.

About two months into the relationship I received a call from one of my girlfriend who is in her forties and living and loving life as a Cougar. She was calling me to inform me that she belonged to a site called Cougar Life and that while she was hunting for her next boy toy she received a message from a young Cub that looked an awful lot like my boyfriend.



My boyfriend and my Cougar friend had never met but she had seen photos of him on my Facebook and immediately recognized his sexually deviant looking mug. Not only was he a member he was a PREMIUM member (hey there big spender)! She clicked on his profile to see what it said and it read:

Happy Black History Month to...... Kim Kardashian's vagina.



                          You go girl!

Have you ever closed your eyes and tried to picture Danny DeVito and Rhea Perlman having sex? No? Me either (maybe).

Whenever I use the ATM I look at the crumpled receipts on the counter to see if anyone's balance is less than mine. Then smile if I find one.

I was a guest on LA Talk Radio's Question Reality on January 22, 2012! If you missed it I should smack you BUT I won't because you can download the show by clicking on the link below.

Enjoy and don't get to turned on by my New Yawk accent. ;)

Listen To Me Now

Oh Anthony Weiner....what have you done? First you embarrass your wife by messaging pic of your crotch to young ladies and now you've grown the stache of a sexual villain. You're a mess and popping up that collar is NOT going to make things any better.

Sometimes I really want to buy a pair of Birkenstocks but then I remember I enjoy sleeping with men.

It’s happened to all of us. Saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, embarrassing yourself to the highest caliber. We have all been in embarrassing situations where we feel like we will never regain our dignity or self respect. I’m about to revisit some of my most embarrassing mishaps so that I can share them with you and make you happy that you’re not me. Sit back, relax and try not to judge as I reveal to you……

The Von’s Top 10 Most Embarrassing Moments

10. The Tampon in the Church

I must have been about 15 and the only reason I was in church was because of a death or a wedding (I can’t remember). I was rummaging through my bag out of sheer boredom, hoping to find a Snickers bar or something to distract me for the next 45 minutes. Then all of a sudden, a glistening ray shined through and caught my eye. It was a Hershey’s Kiss! As I went to move everything off of it my little brother knocked my arm and contents of my bag went flying into the aisle. The entire church turned silent and immediately looked my way. My lipstick, compact and a few other things were laying on the aisle waiting to be picked up. I quickly ran over to start collecting my belongings when all of a sudden the boy I had a huge crush on for almost three years walked over to me with what looked like a giant highlighter in his hand. He passed it to me and smirked as he gently placed it in my hand. What he handed me was no highlighter, it was a super plus tampon. It too had escaped my bag and made it’s way onto the floor and now the boy I was crushing on knew I had a heavy flow and was currently surfing the crimson wave.

9. Hot Guys and Rugs

 

I was about nineteen and working in a home design store. There had been a guy in his late twenties that had been coming in to buy some stuff for his house and he was definitely good looking. The only thing that was throwing me off was his hair. It looked like a toupee but I wasn’t 100% sure.

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As most of you already know I spend 43 hours of my 48 hour work week messing around on Twitter looking for attention from complete strangers to help fill the void from my childhood years. Throughout 2011 I have grown to love many Twitter accounts, most of which have no clue I even exist. The people behind these accounts are raunchy, funny and downright ridiculous, making me want to dry hump each and every single one of them. But there are only ten that have really won over my blackened heart with their inappropriate Tweets and scandalous ways. These Tweeters are the ones that aren’t afraid to say they want to kick a toddler in the kneecap or that they want to motorboat you when their wives aren’t looking. These people have no shame and are willing to say everything you’ve ever thought about in your sick and twisted heads but never had the balls to say it. They are…….

Top 10 Shameless Twitter Accounts to Follow in 2011

Please Note: If your Twitter account is listed below please do not think you’ve won anything. The only thing you’re getting out of this is the knowledge that I’ve obviously been stalking you on an hourly basis. Thank you and Happy Holidays.

10- albertina rizzo @albz

I’m a writer and so-so at having goals. Super casual, you guys.

 http://hialbertina.tumblr.com/

 

9- Stephanie @Smethanie

The Zooey Deschanel of bologna.

I’m the girl everyone shakes their head at and asks:

What’s wrong with you?

My name’s Mark. No STDs!

http://marknormandcomedy.com

 

5- Mary Charlene @IamEnidColeslaw Chicago-ish

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Since I've become become the head of booking on The Comedy Point, I've become very active on Twitter. (Follow me @TheHouseofVon) I've suggested The Comedy Point read the Top 10 Tweets of The Week LIVE every Tuesday 5 to 8pm! Think your Tweet is Top 10 worthy? Get @TheHouseofVon‘s attention or Tweet @TheComedyPoint.

Top 10 Tweets 12/20/2011
@k9leavings Harold Busch
Tomorrow’s the shortest day of the year, except for people who have kids for whom every day is the longest day of the year.

@UNTRESOR Brandon Guttermouth
Tribal tattoos are a good way of advertising which type of frog paralytic you like to put on the tips of your date rape darts.

@JennyJohnsonHi5 Jenny Johnson
Sending someone a Xmas salami stick is a cute way of saying, “I think you’re a filthy garbage person who’d eat meat out of their mailbox.”

@lunchyprices Heather Kay
Great job glancing in my cart and drawing a line on my receipt, Costco worker!

@lenadunham Lena Dunham
Spent spin class imagining myself as surrogate for this striking gay couple but turned out they were str8 dudes who didn’t know each other:(

@EliBraden Eli Braden
I bring home the bacon in my family (I buy it at the store with the money my wife makes)

@lazerdoov Dan Duvall
I can’t prove God isn’t real, but at the same time, I can’t prove that my dog doesn’t run a violent Asian street gang while I’m asleep.

@bdbdleeroybrown Bad Bad Leeroy Brown
Alcohol is like real life photoshop for ugly people.

@JeffKlinger Jeff Klinger
Hey, people with ugly faces, you can stop exercising now.

@McBonerpants78 Mark Hamer78
You perverted Women and your shake weights

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Since I've become become the head of booking on The Comedy Point, I've become very active on Twitter. (Follow me @TheHouseofVon) I've suggested The Comedy Point read the Top 10 Tweets of The Week LIVE every Tuesday 5 to 8pm! Think your Tweet is Top 10 worthy? Get @TheHouseofVon‘s attention or Tweet @TheComedyPoint.

Top 10 Tweets 12/13/2011

@AdamHammer Adam Hammer
The only sound sweeter than a child’s laughter is the Saturday morning silence in a home with no kids.

@LeviathanPride LP
I’m throwing my poo at seagulls because I think it’s time we fought back.

@trevso_electric Trevor S
It’s so cute how toddlers pronounce certain words! Today my 5yo asked if my cocaine connection is my “jug dealer.”

@WhitneyCummings Whitney Cummings
Stop trying to make the catchphrase you have for yourself happen with your email signature

@paulrust Paul Rust
How can I be expected to water a plant? I can’t even raise my child!

@aliwong3000 Ali Wong
I know I’m getting old b/c owning a pool doesn’t seem fun, it seems like liability.

@emilymayamills Emily Maya Mills
Not sure if it’s the rain that’s making my tote bag smell like a 4th grade backpack full of smashed bananas or if it’s just who I am.

@AnaGasteyer Ana Gasteyer
Online shopping is so much easier except for the eyestrain and the multiple hours spent ignoring your children in plain sight.

@MarylandMudflap Scotty L.
I thought I was feeling depressed. Then I saw a book titled “Fun Recipes for the Single Vegan” and realized that I’m walkin on sunshine.

@albz albertina rizzo
Got my parents Kindles for Christmas & uploaded all the angry letters I wrote after their divorce. Told them it was the latest Dean Koontz.

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Since I've become become the head of booking on The Comedy Point, I've become very active on Twitter. (Follow me @TheHouseofVon) I've suggested The Comedy Point read the Top 10 Tweets of The Week LIVE every Tuesday 5 to 8pm! Think your Tweet is Top 10 worthy? Get @TheHouseofVon‘s attention or Tweet @TheComedyPoint.

Top 10 Tweets 11/29/2011

@cornlog Hugh Jass
Fun Fact: Jews are biologically incapable of having Southern accents.

@realdonjamieson Don Jamieson
Madonna performing at Super Bowl. Cuz after 40 beers I’m always thinking “You know what would make this game even better? La Isla Bonita!

@Smethanie Stephanie
The worst thing about having amnesia must be feeling left out when everyone busts out with the Biggie lyrics at a party.

@JennyJohnsonHi5 Jenny Johnson
The number one cause of teenage pregnancy is sluts.

@nedroid Anthony
Hi, I’m Guy Fieri. I wear my sunglasses on the back of my head to block out the past which is always haunting me.

@bazecraze Alex Baze
I feel like I can’t go back downstairs now because my doorman already said “goodnight, Alex.” That’s normal, right?

@joshbeckdotnet Josh Beck
Some guys look for tramp stamps, but c-section scars are all the only indicators I need.

@donni Donni Saphire
Sometimes I lie awake at night wondering why Missy Elliott used to wear that garbage bag.

@NickBergmeister Nick Bergmeister
Hey, middle schoolers in McDonald’s: that guy you’re considering buying weed from is most definitely not “legit”.

@robdelaney rob delaney
I will buy pants at Radio Shack before I buy a CD at Starbucks.

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Since I've become become the head of booking on The Comedy Point, I've become very active on Twitter. (Follow me @TheHouseofVon) I've suggested The Comedy Point read the Top 10 Tweets of The Week LIVE every Tuesday 5 to 8pm! Think your Tweet is Top 10 worthy? Get @TheHouseofVon‘s attention or Tweet @TheComedyPoint.

Top 10 Tweets 11/29/2011

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Since I've become become the head of booking on The Comedy Point, I've become very active on Twitter. (Follow me @TheHouseofVon) I've suggested The Comedy Point read the Top 10 Tweets of The Week LIVE every Tuesday 5 to 8pm! Think your Tweet is Top 10 worthy? Get @TheHouseofVon‘s attention or Tweet @TheComedyPoint.

Top 10 Tweets 11/22/2011
@buck4itt Buck
There’s no way to accurately understand how much misery you are personally responsible for until you have a spouse to help you understand.

@LaurenGberg Lauren Greenberg
I don’t want a boyfriend, I just want my ex-boyfriend to think I have a boyfriend.

@juliussharpe Julius Sharpe
I’m only a good parent when my wife is looking.

DavidPressman David Pressman
Drunk, watching “The Five” on my DVR & waiting for UPS to deliver the season 1 DVD of Army Wives. Everything’s going really well over here.

@jenstatsky Jen Statsky
DIET TIP: If you only want to eat 1 slice of pizza, have one. Then have someone immediately shoot you in the neck with a tranquilizer dart!

@IamEnidColeslaw Mary Charlene
Tonight Jesus interrupted my prayers & said, “Kenny Chesney is such a turd.” Then I said, “Yeah Jesus, he totally is.”

@FSUSteve Eric Prydz
Toddlers should have twitter accounts since they think everything they say is important too.

@gwynthfair Cunning Linguist
If I had a dollar for every comedy central roast I watched today I’d have $4 and would still be failing at life.

@StellaRtwot Ella or Denise
Fact: The KKK invented the Snuggie.

@jakefogelnest Jake Fogelnest
RENT (with an option to buy). #jewishmusicals

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Since I've become become the head of booking on The Comedy Point, I've become very active on Twitter. (Follow me @TheHouseofVon) I've suggested The Comedy Point read the Top 10 Tweets of The Week LIVE every Tuesday 5 to 8pm! Think your Tweet is Top 10 worthy? Get @TheHouseofVon‘s attention or Tweet @TheComedyPoint.

Top 10 Tweets 11/15/2011

@Benny_Smalls Ben Small

Hey, women that change their profile to sonogram pictures! It’s only beautiful to you! Keep it to yourselves!

 

@DougBenson Doug Benson

Hey, if you’re drunk, now is probably a good time to go to iTunes and download everything I’ve ever done. #RegretsAreHealthy #ThanksDrunky

 

@kellyoxford kelly oxford

A sure sign that a woman’s Facebook profile picture isn’t pretty, is having 50 comments from other women telling them how pretty they look.

 

@pattonoswalt Patton Oswalt

Daughter just saw me in a tux & yelled, “Wanna wear a costume TOO!” then she took off her diaper & put on a pirate hat.

 

@MelleDoles Melle Doles Equis II

Always carry ear phones to drown out the whiny voices that come out of elderly people

 

@BradolphPittler Kelly K’Meowski™

If Kim Kardashian doesn’t want to look plus sized she should never wear flats….or her body.

 

@Petey_E Pete

If my wife ever finds sobriety, she’s bound to realize I’ve been lying to her about how good looking I am

@Chrsharbert bustermcthunderstick

If I were a bathroom tile salesman, my pitch would be “Think of how great this will look in the background of your social networking pics.”

@IGotsSmarts Steve M*******ski

If you’re going to be a ninja, NEVER wear corduroy!

@Coastiefish Matt Smith

Hey guys whose girlfriends wear those giant t-shirts as nightgowns, one day you’ll be married, and that shirt’s going to fit her.

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Since I've become become the head of booking on The Comedy Point, I've become very active on Twitter. (Follow me @TheHouseofVon) I've suggested The Comedy Point read the Top 10 Tweets of The Week LIVE every Tuesday 5 to 8pm! Think your Tweet is Top 10 worthy? Get @TheHouseofVon‘s attention or Tweet @TheComedyPoint.

Top 10 Tweets 11/15/2011

@Benny_Smalls Ben Small

Hey, women that change their profile to sonogram pictures! It’s only beautiful to you! Keep it to yourselves!

 

@DougBenson Doug Benson

Hey, if you’re drunk, now is probably a good time to go to iTunes and download everything I’ve ever done. #RegretsAreHealthy #ThanksDrunky

 

@kellyoxford kelly oxford

A sure sign that a woman’s Facebook profile picture isn’t pretty, is having 50 comments from other women telling them how pretty they look.

 

@pattonoswalt Patton Oswalt

Daughter just saw me in a tux & yelled, “Wanna wear a costume TOO!” then she took off her diaper & put on a pirate hat.

 

@MelleDoles Melle Doles Equis II

Always carry ear phones to drown out the whiny voices that come out of elderly people

 

@BradolphPittler Kelly K’Meowski™

If Kim Kardashian doesn’t want to look plus sized she should never wear flats….or her body.

 

@Petey_E Pete

If my wife ever finds sobriety, she’s bound to realize I’ve been lying to her about how good looking I am

@Chrsharbert bustermcthunderstick

If I were a bathroom tile salesman, my pitch would be “Think of how great this will look in the background of your social networking pics.”

@IGotsSmarts Steve M*******ski

If you’re going to be a ninja, NEVER wear corduroy!

@Coastiefish Matt Smith

Hey guys whose girlfriends wear those giant t-shirts as nightgowns, one day you’ll be married, and that shirt’s going to fit her.

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Since I've become become the head of booking on The Comedy Point, I've become very active on Twitter. (Follow me @TheHouseofVon) I've suggested The Comedy Point read the Top 10 Tweets of The Week LIVE every Tuesday 5 to 8pm! Think your Tweet is Top 10 worthy? Get @TheHouseofVon‘s attention or Tweet @TheComedyPoint.

Top 10 Tweets 11/8/11

@Gavin_McInnes Gavin McInnes
Daughter asked what government means so I go, “It’s an expensive store that sells Invisible crap and if you don’t buy it, you go to jail.”
6 Nov

@iamcolinquinn Colin Quinn
“I’m starting a young nittany lion wrestling club, Coach Paterno!” “oh, no, Jerry, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” #2005conversations
2 hours ago

@TheJWess Jeff Wesselschmidt
Dude next to me on subway is looking at naked pictures of his girlfriend. So am I.
20 hours ago

@shanecomedy shane mauss
My cat and I have a lot in common. For example, neither of us care about Micheal Jackson.
18 hours ago Favorite Retweet Reply

@GaryGulman Gary Gulman
When I was a kid I looked forward to The Olympics. Now, it just reminds me of how little I’ve accomplished in the last 4 years.
5 Nov

@GenitalTzo Eaton Kuntz
20 years ago today Magic Johnson lied about having AIDS.
7 Nov

@jessiestwats Jessie G.
2 year old in front of me is wearing gold stretchy hot pants- should I tell her they’re not doing her any favors?
4 Nov

@bryansafi Bryan Safi
Adults who eat those Peter Rabbit fruit snack pouches from Starbucks were for sure molested.
22 Oct

@louisvirtel Louis Virtel
“Where’s Waldo” is becoming a movie. I hope he gets lost in Hollywood so viewers can search the screen for original ideas.
22 hours ago

@Aimee_B_Loved Aimee B
Michelle Duggar is pregnant again? Forget Mexico. We should build a fence between her vag and the real world.
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Since I've become become the head of booking on The Comedy Point, I've become very active on Twitter. (Follow me @TheHouseofVon) I've suggested The Comedy Point read the Top 10 Tweets of The Week LIVE every Tuesday 5 to 8pm! Think your Tweet is Top 10 worthy? Get @TheHouseofVon‘s attention or Tweet @TheComedyPoint.

Top 10 Tweets 11/1/11

@MadeaSim Lil Dooky
#kimkmarriagewasshorter than the line of tricker treaters at Casey Anthony’s house
15 hours ago

@danecook Dane Cook
I wonder how many calories a women burns trying to avoid sex?
25 Oct Favorite Retweet Reply

@jimmyfallon jimmy fallon
Selena Gomez & Justin Bieber adopted a dog. Not to be outdone, Brad Pitt & Angelina Jolie adopted Selena Gomez & Justin Bieber. #FallonMono

@TheDilaudid Eriks Chase
My friend always tells the same stories over & over again… I thought she had alzheimer’s but realized she’s the re-gifter of reminiscing.

@PeteKavanagh Pete Kavanagh
somewhere a tailor is staring at a huge pile of epaulettes and aiguillettes and muttering “first Jackson, now Gadaffi. I’m ruined”

@MendelBJ Brandon Mendelson
This Christmas: Give your kids beatings, not iPads.
7 minutes ago

@DaniIsFUNNY Dani. Tosado
Auto correct always changes “I hope u get stolen by a van tonight I hate you” to “when are you coming home babe?” It really helps sometimes
30 Oct

@robdelaney rob delaney
I always cry at weddings. Because I’m sad that my Saturday is being ruined.
23 hours ago Favorite Retweet Reply

@JimmyShubert Jimmy Shubert
I went trick or treating in Silicon Valley and I got an Apple Computer with a razor blade in it!! UNBELIEVABLE!!!

@behindyourback passive aggressive
And then Young MC busted a move sooo hard he was never heard from again. The End.

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Since I've become become the head of booking on The Comedy Point, I've become very active on Twitter. (Follow me @TheHouseofVon) I've suggested The Comedy Point read the Top 10 Tweets of The Week LIVE every Tuesday 5 to 8pm! Think your Tweet is Top 10 worthy? Get @TheHouseofVon‘s attention or Tweet @TheComedyPoint.

 

Top 10 Tweets 10/25/2011

 

10- @IAmJoelWest Joel West
If you click your heels three times and say “Obamacare” they make you Canadian.

9-@therealrussellp Russell Peters
If this tweet gets sent, then BB is working again…. If not, ignore that u read this!

8- @friedmanjon Jon Friedman
It might help if Conrad Murray just started singing, “I’m sorry Ms. Jackson (oooh) I am for real.”

7- @BoweKnows Travis Bowe
Who the fuck are JD Power’s associates?
6- @trumpetcake Ted Travelstead
God forbid someone is ACTUALLY murdered at the “CSI: The Experience” interactive exhibit at the Times Square Discovery Museum, but what if?!

5- @ChrisComedy Chris Martin
The Iraq War is winding down but we’re still fighting in Afghan valleys deeper than the crevasses in Christiane Amanpour’s face.

4- @Frank_Liotti frank liotti
if i worked at a cold cut counter i’d slice ham and say would you like to try a piece? then i’d say catch! and toss the meat, like to a seal

3- @joannasloame Joanna Sloame
if you’re looking for a relationship, you should really date me. everyone i break up with gets a serious girlfriend in a matter of days.

2- @KingsRoc SlowKing
Are foursquare jokes still funny? Because I just checked into your wife’s vagina. I’m almost the mayor.

1- @SalVulcano Sal Vulcano
“You got it!” NOT, “You go tit!”. Too late. Sent. #lookinglikeajerkevenafteriexplainmyself

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Since I've become become the head of booking on The Comedy Point, I've become very active on Twitter. (Follow me @TheHouseofVon) I've suggested The Comedy Point read the Top 10 Tweets of The Week LIVE every Tuesday 5 to 8pm! Think your Tweet is Top 10 worthy? Get @TheHouseofVon‘s attention or Tweet @TheComedyPoint.

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Have you ever waited anxiously for the love of your life to pick you up to go on a romantic date? You look in the mirror, check your hair, peek through the blinds to see if they pulled up yet, check yourself in the mirror AGAIN then pace around some more? Not since you were seventeen? Well since I’m a thirty-one year old loser that is exactly what I did this past Friday night while waiting for the love of MY life…… SOUL Joel Richardson.

The Love Of My Life

I was so excited to go out that I must have peeked through my bedroom blinds at least four times. On the fourth peek, instead of seeing nothing,I saw a giant white Escalade pull up and a little man dressed like a Guido jump out. The tiny man looked around and started to walk directly across from my house into the peninsula of trees and bushes as a look of sneakiness took over his orangey tanned face.

I was intrigued. Before he completely descended into the oasis of green shrubbery and deer ticks I noticed a white box in his left hand. I became intrigued while forgetting all about my date and the anticipation I had just minutes before. Was he hiding money? Maybe it was pirate jewels or a thousand free ice cream cone gift certificates to McDonalds. The possibilities were endless. Then I thought that maybe it was a box of illegal drugs or a murder weapon so I quickly ran downstairs to get a closer look of his truck so that I could write down his license plate just in case.

As I peered through the living room window trying to glance at the plate on the truck something unexpected happened…the man caught me looking! The mysterious Guido had spotted me! I quickly ducked but it was too late! My heart started to race and my palms got all sweaty. I ran for my life up the stairs and  into my bedroom  slamming the door behind me. I’d been had!

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As most of you know I live in a delightful oasis called Staten Island, New York. An inconvenient jerk named Irene is on her way to throw a wrench into my weekend plans and probably sink us into the ocean since we are already below sea level. Since I’m notorious for always waiting until the last minute to do anything I will be running around the island looking for gas for my car, bread for my tummy, liquor for my sanity since I am going to stay with my parents and grandmother while the hurricane strikes and a life jacket because I’m super lazy and if we are flooded out I want to be able to just float in the waters effortlessly while waiting to be rescued. With that being said, I’m not going to have time to write a long blog this week BUT I wanted to share something with you that I came across while clearing out some old documents on my computer.

 

Last year my brother was in the hospital. Every day after him I would go into this little prayer room next to his unit to say a quick prayer and of course to be nosy and thumb through this note pad that people write in asking God for favors. The letters were pretty much all along the same lines of:

“Dear God, Please heal so and so…,”

Then to my delight I came across the most amazing letter to God written by a thirty-six year old man named, Colin.

After reading the letter, I stood there smiling from ear to ear. Colin doesn’t know it but I will find him one day and we WILL become best friends! Just from reading his genius letter to God, I am able to tell that he would be highly capable of entertaining me for hours on end. The only question I had was why this bitey fish hater put his age after his signature. I’m pretty sure God knows how old you are, Colin. Maybe he signs all of his letters like that. I will never know. It’s one of life’s mysteries similar to the mystery of how Paris Hilton keeps getting television producers to give her her own reality shows. Mind boggling!

Thanks for the laughs Colin! Stay dry everyone!

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We’ve all said those golden words full of empty promises: “I am never going to drink again!” Those are the six words you usually whisper up to God immediately following  a night of sloppy drunkenness and inappropriate behavior. It’s almost as if preaching that promise out loud will make everything that occurred the night before disappear. That’s never the case.

Believe it or not, I didn’t start drinking until I was twenty-two years old with the exception of two incidents:

1. The Zima I had when I was fourteen which made me think I was the coolest cat on earth.

2. The ten back to back shots of Goldschlager I had at a Christmas Party when I was sixteen.

I thought it was a smart idea to go head to head with my friend who was a three hundred pound  seasoned veteran in the alcohol consumption department. I managed to throw back ten shots of the 107 proof, bad decision in a bottle, in a matter of thirty minutes without puking.

Until…….

I was standing by the bar dancing (if you call unsteadily swaying from side to side “dancing”)  when Madonna’s Don’t Cry For me Argentina came on. I remember a spinning disco ball followed by maroon and gold carpeting  (I remember the carpeting because that is where my face planted after I threw up on myself and toppled over). I was a hot mess! When I woke up I was taken outside, put in a friend’s tiny automobile and driven back to Staten Island to face my destiny…. My Mother!

Hi Mom!

When I got home I was woken up and carried to my front door with only one shoe on my feet  (I had lost the other shoe somewhere between Madonna and the car ride home). My sober friend got my mother to open the door and explained what had happened. She then handed me off to my creator who then took me to my room and undressed me for bed. That’s when the inappropriateness occurred. Apparently I tried to slow dance with her while calling her Chad and then tried to make out with her (NOT my proudest moment). I only remember these details because the day after my drunken escapades, my mother and my dear friend took the time to retell the prior night’s happenings resulting in me getting to relive one of my not so favorite days. My favorite part of them recapping the chain of  events was my mom telling me that when I first got home I opened my mouth to speak and the flowers in the vase behind her wilted due to the high volume of alcohol that spewed out of my mouth. I was like a drunken dragon! I was impressed. After plenty of Tylenol and large amounts of orange juice I remember looking up to the ceiling (trying to get God’s attention) declaring that six word promise for the first time in my life, “I am never going to drink again!” That promise lasted more than six years because like I stated before, I didn’t drink again until I was twenty-two. Unfortunately I don’t believe it was the promise I had made to God that kept me from drinking alcohol.

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Many of you already know (from my multiple whining Facebook status updates) that I some how (maybe during “adult activities”) hurt my back last week and haven’t been able to function properly. I had been self medicating myself with expired muscle relaxers (that I found in an old pocketbook)  and Bengay for the first four days but the pain only got worse so I decided to be a responsible adult and take a field trip to the emergency room (any excuse to get to leave work).

When I got there I only had to wait about five minutes until the murse (male nurse) called me into the pre-examination room to take my vitals.

He asked me what brought me there and I told him I was having severe back pain. I went on to tell him I couldn’t move my neck and I felt constant throbbing and pain. He wrote it all down and sent me into the examination room to wait for the doctor. About twenty minutes later an older Asian man walked in and introduced himself as Dr.Cheng (this is where my aggravation started). As he held my chart in his hand and began reading it, he asked me the exact same questions that the murse asked me twenty minutes before. I told him I was having severe back pain that I definitely thought I pulled a muscle. He nodded and asked me if I have a history of asthma. I told him no. Then he asked me if I had a fever and I asked him what my chart revealed since the murse took my temperature when I arrived. I could see the conversation was going nowhere. As soon as I started to lose faith in the American Healthcare System it got even worse! Moments after I told him all of my symptoms he went over to his computer and started entering them into Web MD! I couldn’t believe my eyes. This man wasn’t a resident, he was a real deal doctor and ASIAN! I thought to myself, “Aren’t Asians supposed to be smarter than us? Why is he using Web MD?!”

After a few seconds my “assessment” came back. He looked at me and said, “I send you downstairs for chest x-ray. You may have pneumonia.” In which I replied, “I do not have pneumonia, I have a back injury.” Apparently doctors believe Web MD over their patients because moments later I was being sent downstairs to the x-ray lab to have pictures taken of my chest so that Dr.Cheng could see the pneumonia I didn’t have.

When I got to  the x-lab my aggravation level was at about a nine.

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PLEASE NOTE: No names have been changed to protect the parties’ privacy.

If you have a private Facebook account AND an arch nemesis in life you’ve probably gotten a “friend request” at one time or another by a person that just didn’t seem “kosher.” Ninety-nine percent of the time  I can almost guarantee that the person friending you, of which you have no idea who they are, is most likely that one person you have tried to rid your life of but like a bad case of herpes they keep coming back.

 

I have two arch nemesis’ in life. Both are complete  jerks who have lots of time on their hands to friend me with fake Facebook profiles. I actually fell prey to one of them last year when on of them pulled the wool over my eyes and got me to accept a friend request from a hot guy named Vinny whose  profile picture was of him modeling a tight pair of boxer briefs.

Would You Accept A Friend Request From Him?

I was in heat that week so of course I accepted without even questioning. After drooling over his half naked pics and exchanging a few flirty Facebook messages I began to realize that I wasn’t dealing with, “Hot Vinny the Underwear Model,” I was dealing with “Crazy Karen the Psycho Ex Friend.” Not only had I been had but after calling her out she made fun of my Rod Stewart hair cut and the 30lbs I had   packed on since I had last seen her.    

I was furious for falling victim to a fake Facebook profile and realized that having short hair while being chubby probably wasn’t the best look for me. I quickly blocked “Hot Vinny the Underwear Model aka “Crazy Karen the Psycho Ex Friend” and intend on never accepting a friend request again unless of course I personally know the person and if I do they must be prepared to answer some background check questions just so I can make sure.

I have been  in the clear of any stalker shenanigans up until yesterday. When I logged onto Facebook I received the strangest friend request from a man by the name of Boris Jelinek of the U.K. I looked at Boris’ page and he had no friends, no photos and no wall posts. Since I had an absolute ton of work to do at my job I decided to do what any great employee would do which was try and find out who Boris Jelinek was and this is what I got:

 Jen Remauro: Cousin Boris!??

Boris Jelinek: Erm … I don’t think so … FB suggested we should be friends so I thought … “okay”

Jen Remauro: sorry……I already have a freind in the UK…

Boris Jelinek: can’t you have more than one?

Jen Remauro: no

Jen Remauro: if that person cancels their Facebook you will be the first one I friend in the UK

Boris Jelinek: damn and I had a space for an arrogant, rude American … oh well need to keep looking ;-P

Jen Remauro: do you have an accent?

Boris Jelinek: yes a Scottish one …. you?

Jen Remauro: an African American one

Boris Jelinek: super … with a hint of NY?

Jen Remauro: no, Utah

Boris Jelinek: so why does it say NY on your profile?

Jen Remauro: I live in NY but have the accent of an African American that lives in Utah.

Boris Jelinek: I have no idea what that would sound like … you will need to send me a recording one day

Jen Remauro: I think I picked it up from watching way too much of The Bronze Buckaroo

and Harlem Rides The Range when I was a kid

Boris Jelinek: lol … I didn’t wish to ask, but I didn’t think you looked very African American

Jen Remauro: I’m not.

Boris Jelinek: so what do you do when you aren’t watching tele or conversing with your one British friend?

Jen Remauro: I’m a Cat Food Quality Controller..you?

Boris Jelinek: IT Consultant

are cats really that fussy that they need a QT for their food?

QC I meant

Jen Remauro: Yes. They are very picky.

You can’t imagine what happens if a bad batch of salmon gets mixed into their food.

 

**”Boris” never replied after that which kind of made me sad because I was having so much fun. The funniest thing about this whole situation is that “Boris” actually found that one friend I have on Facebook from the U.K. (which I didn’t even really think I had) and friended her!

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It’s extremely hot out (just in case you have a lack of temperature sensitivity). I have not done anything productive at my job for the past three days (not much different than any other day)and I don’t intend to do anything productive until the temperature drops to at least eighty-five degrees. Besides being unproductive at work I am also slacking on my blog this week. It’s so hot, even my brain is sweating and all I can think about is ice cold water, Dippin Dots, Tom Selleck and the beach.

I tried to get out of writing this week but Joel obviously can’t take a hint.

I used the, “I don’t know what to write about,” excuse with a stressed look on my face

Sad/Stressed Jen

…while gently caressing his hand, thinking he would turn to me and say, “Oh honey, don’t worry. You can take a break and write something next week.” NOPE! He just threw ideas out at me which made me feel even more hot and bothered. Since my charming, girlish ways didn’t buy me a free week I am here, yet again, entertaining you, my five loyal fans, in one hundred and thirty degree heat.

So what do you want to talk about? We can discuss this past week’s ridiculous events that occurred in my life. Like the fact that I had to Google Rupert Murdoch’s name last week because I had absolutely no clue who he was. I used good ol’ Wikipedia to educate me and help me rejoin society. I admit, I definitely enjoyed the fact that some one tried to smash Murdoch in the face with a pie. That information entertained me for a while.

How about we talk about that before last week, I thought Alaska and Hawaii were the fifty-first and fifty-second states and were considered a sort of “prize” to the United States (in my brilliant mind). I said this out loud during a conversation with my parents who are now extremely concerned with the fact that they allowed me to drop out of college, not once, but twice.

Speaking of parents, when I was at the nursing home visiting my brother the other day, it was brought to my attention that a patient, a woman I have been having conversations with for the past nine months about nail polish colors and this season’s fashions, is indeed a man (caught a glimpse of the enlarged Adam’s Apple which even had stubble on it). When I informed my mother of the news she said, “That would explain why she’s a size thirteen shoe.” When I asked her why she knew this tidbit of information she looked at me with a straight face and said, “I’m buying her a pair of hooker boots.” I didn’t ask for details and I never will. All I know is that the day I pull up to the nursing home and see the resident cross dresser wearing patent leather thigh high boots I may just piss my pants.

To end my week of exciting events I will discuss the fact that I now know that Joel is very afraid of bats. How do I know this you ask? Two nights ago I was swimming in my parent’s pool with my son and Joel.

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Over the past seven years Facebook has paved the way for people to live a life they never thought possible. The nerdy,quiet,ugly kid in high school can now show off his hot, new, big breasted trophy wife (whom he acquired after making millions in the stock market) instead of forever being remembered as just some fat geek with braces.

The creepy girl that always wore black and smoked cigarettes in the corner of the school yard while watching the cheer leading team practice can now sit behind a computer screen and stalk the pages of those peppy, popular girls she still aspires to be like without being called a stalker (I believe the proper term for her is cyber-stalker). Even information you don’t want to know is now readily available at a click of the refresh button on your news feed (teenage cousin losing her virginity on prom night to the half the football team). Years ago none of this was even possible. There would be family members you would only catch up with at funerals or weddings (the way you’d rather it be), high school reunions you’d miss because you moved and the invitation got lost in the mail (thank God) or missed opportunities to find out your boyfriend was cheating because technology wasn’t advanced enough to show you that he checked into Places (a sleazy hotel) with another woman (complete whore).

But times they have changed!
Now people use Facebook to remember their parent’s birthdays, stalk ex-boyfriends/girlfriends and even use their status updates as un-paid therapy sessions.

For some people Facebook has taken over their lives (The Von) and has gotten totally out of hand (I’m addicted). How can you tell if you are one of those people??? Well besides seeing yourself in every one of the scenarios listed above, there are a few more ways you can tell if you have severe Facebooking issues:

10.You can draw a complete lay out of your high school nemesis’ entire house, including wall colors, because THAT’S how many times you’ve looked through her Facebook photo albums thanks to her page being public.

9.You not only have your own Facebook account, you also have two fake ones so that you can friend people that won’t accept your personal account because they think you’re a freak.

8.Getting a new high score in Bejeweled Blitz is more exciting to you than the day your husband proposed to you.

7.You’ve added your bed, backyard and bathroom to Facebook Places.

6.Some of your closest friends are one’s you’ve never met and only know from Facebook.

5.You posted that you’re pregnant on your wall before calling your parents or the father to be to share the great news!

4.When you get into a fight with your sister you immediately remove her from your Family List on your page and consider yourself officially sister-less (and by doing that makes it totally legit to you).

3.Clicking on some one’s page that you despise and finding out it’s NOT set to private is better than that feeling you got on Christmas morning when you were a kid.

 

2.You take hours to return client’s phone calls at work but you update your status every hour on the hour about how your day is going.

1. You wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat because you forgot to harvest your crops in Farmville.

 

So we salute you Mark Zuckerberg, for making over seven-hundred and fifty million people become addicted to social media faster than a five cent hooker can become addicted to crack.

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I don’t know if you’ve heard (if you haven’t you must live under a rock) but I’m pretty famous now (in my twisted mind and my mind only). That ridiculous hot dog suit I’ve been wearing for the past two years has finally paid off (not with money though) and has put my name out there in the media world (hasn’t benefited me at all just makes me look crazy). The photo I have of me, dressed as a giant frankfurter, standing with Anthony Weiner has made it to Gawker.com, PerezHilton.com, Elvis Duran’s morning show AND was featured on the celebrity gossip television show EXTRA.

Wiener vs Weiner on EXTRA

It’s pretty safe to say that I’m BIG TIME now (in my own little messed up world). Not to worry though, my narcissism is at the same level it was before becoming a star, high.

Now that I think I’m BIG TIME I have had a few people stop to ask me, “Where did your nickname The Von come from?” People want to know the real me. They want to know my hopes, my dreams, my mental stability considering I own a giant hot dog costume along with several other food related dress up outfits at the age of thirty-one. While I can’t answer the last three questions with dignity, I can answer where I got my nickname from. I must warn you, it’s a pretty lame story but it happened to lead me into the cyber arms of some one I consider to be my soul mate (he just doesn’t know it).

About a year and a half ago I was having a melt down. Was stuck in the same dead end career for the past twelve years, didn’t finish college, money was tight, I tried to dye my own hair and wound up looking like Ronald McDonald (but cuter). I was a hot mess. Then I thought of it! The one thing I could do to make my crappy life turn around. I could change my name to make myself sound rich and then maybe I would become rich (no I’m not kidding. I really believed this at thirty years old). I started thinking how everyone I have ever known with VON in there last name has been extremely successful.
The Von Trapp family, Walther von der Vogelweide, Deeta Von Teese….all successful Vons.

The Von Trapp Family

I needed to be a VON too! So I did what any certifiable lunatic without a college degree would do. I changed my name on Facebook to Jennifer Von Remauro. The change made me feel better already! It took a while for people to notice my new identity. In fact old classmates that I had gone to school with for most of my adolescent life were referring to me as Jennifer Von Remauro without realizing that wasn’t really my last name (which goes to show how important I really was to them growing up). A few months later I  started a personal blog The House of Von with hopes that it would make me rich. It didn’t. Not only was having VON in my name NOT making me rich, it was actually costing me money because I had to pay for my blog’s domain and web hosting.

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Have you ever had a couple of adult beverages and then completely embarrassed yourself due to the lack of common sense and intelligence that comes with being intoxicated? Maybe you professed your love to the bartender who’s been making your Long Island Iced Teas all night or flashed the entire bar during your drunken rendition of Madonna’s “Like A Virgin.” Whatever your choice of embarrassment is  can’t be as bad as what happened to me last week while attending the Wagner College alumni dinner.

 

The one and only Soul Joel had taken me to the dinner as his personal guest and it was an awesome turn out. When we got there we got a cordial(of course) and then made our way outside to the patio for alumni group photos. While Joel was taking pictures I was sitting at a table minding my own business when a woman approached me and told me I looked lonely. She proceeded to tell me that she was Class of 71′ and asked which year I graduated. I broke the news to her that I was just some one’s date and didn’t attend her Alma mater thinking that that would be the end of the conversation. I was wrong. The Class of 71′ stranger (we’ll call her CRAZY) told me she was in her late fifties. I being polite did what any person with manners would do, I lied and said she looked amazing for her age. That was the biggest mistake of my life because instead of saying, “Thank You,” CRAZY decided to offer the biggest beauty tip(s) to staying young anyone has ever given me. She looked me straight in the eye (well as straight as a some one with five Jack Daniels under their belt can look) and told me, “I look so young because I get “IT” every day. Not only do I get “IT” every day but I also swallow AND rub semen on my face daily.” My jaw dropped and just as I was trying to pick it up off of the floor Joel walked over and asked me what was wrong. I pointed to CRAZY and said, “This woman’s on your side buddy!” Still not knowing what was going on Joel looked at the woman’s name tag and saw that she had Class of 71′ printed on it. They started to chat about Wagner and the years they attended when CRAZY said, “I was here for 1968, 69′ (what an GREAT year), 70′ and 71′.” I’m not sure what else was discussed because I was in my own world thinking about how I could phrase this in 420 characters or less on my Facebook status. A few moments later Joel and I were saved by a friend who was able to see we needed help. Back to the bar we went.

At that point I was still in good shape. We went to sit at our assigned table and i had the pleasure of being seated next to a gentleman who was attending the dinner dateless. To my delight I became the chosen one to hear all about his severe allergies to birch, dust & mold over the past thirty-five years while also hearing all about his dream of one day being able to afford to buy a horse so it can win the Triple Crown.

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Q: What happens when you grow up looking like a bean pole with an oversized nose and the last name Weiner?

A:You wind up sending photos of your forty-six year old wiener to co-ed girls and porn stars via Twitter.

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You submitted them…I answered them! This week I asked my loyal readers to email me some questions they needed “Von Worthy” advice on. I would be lying if I said my email was flooded with submissions. I did get five questions, which leads me to believe that I have about five fans out there who actually pay attention to me. Regardless of my obvious non-existent celebrity status, I really took my time to answer these as best I could and can only hope you utilize any advice offered by me because I totally know what I’m talking about. Oh and THANKS MOM for submitting a question (that was sarcasm).

Dear Von: My problem is that one of my lady friends
wants to get married and she keeps insisting that
we do so on Halloween (she is really big into the
whole vampire thing, goth, etc.)- I would be fine
with that except I heard that the world will becoming to an end on October 21st, which means we would lose any and all wedding deposits we
pay before then : do you have any advice you
can give me on how to handle this problem ?
Sincerely, Mr. Pat “salty” Moore

Dear Mr. Pat: I hate Halloween. It’s definitely my least favorite holiday of the year. Bratty children running a muck, an over abundance of disgusting candy corns and almost an entire female race bringing out their “inner slut” dressed like naughty nurses or whorish wenches.

I don’t get it. Christmas on the other hand is my FAVORITE! I get so excited when Thanksgiving ends and the countdown begins til Jesus’ birthday. It’s not even about the presents because last year my boyfriend bought me towels and a heating pad instead of jewelry or clothing like most girlfriends of four years receive. I’ll admit I was extremely pissed but the man obviously has issues that I will never be able to fix.

Dear Von: My husband treats me like an employee instead of a wife. What can I do to change this?

Thanks- Melissa P (NJ)

Dear Melissa: Get a divorce. It’s only going to get worse.

Dear Von: My 4 year old won’t stop tugging on his “Johnson” when he talks to girls, any suggestions?

-Allison S.

Dear Allison: First of all I can tell you you’re son is definitely straight (in case you were wondering). Secondly, he may have the early signs of being a totally creepy pervert.

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I’ve had an AOL account since the nineteen-nineties and the only emails I get are from my mother, Good Day NY, The Trya Banks Show and an endless amount of internet Viagra dealers informing me that they can make my penis become a magic stick for the ladies.

Every now and then, when I’m lucky, I’ll get lengthy emails from Nigerian princes or Haitian Reverends  asking  me to marry their fathers for $10,000,000 or to ship granite counter tops to orphans in Haiti.

Haitian Orphans Love Granite

Read My Last Email Related To That Topic

My newest pen pal happens to be a Financial Advisor going by the name of Fu Chen. Fu contacted me about a week ago informing me that I was chosen to be the recipient of a shit load of money, $23,500,000 to be exact! Finding that email in my inbox was like finding twenty wrapped Christmas gifts, all with my name them, in the middle of May. These emails are like a drug to me. They provide me with endless hours of blissful entertainment while keeping me from being productive at work. I love them.

Here is my newest bundle of joy:

Financial adviser

I am a financial adviser with one of the financial institution in Taiwan. With my advice an investor made a capital growth of more than 40% in his first year of operation. Unfortunate the investor died leaving no one to succeed his estate. I need your assistance in moving this deposit to your country. For your assistance I am willing to share the deposit with you 50/50

I am prepared to place you in a position to instruct the firm to release the US$23,500,000.00 to you.

Please use my private email account to Contact me if the proposal is of interest to you. chenfu5@aol.com

Regards,

Fu Chen

chenfu5@aol.com

Jen’s Reply To Fu Chen

Dearest Fu Chen,

I have to admit, this morning I was planning on taking an entire bottle of aspirins in an attempt to try and move on to a better place but after opening up my emails I have a new reason to live!

I will be $23,500,000.00 richer because of you and now want to continue living. Not only will I live on but I will be able to get the new teeth my mouth requires. I was so excited upon reading your email that I actually peed myself. Please instruct me on what to do next. I have several bank accounts you can use. Let me know.

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                      Jenny Jesus                                            Creep << MORE >>

Came across this gem of a clip and had to share.
Let's just say it starts getting really interesting towards the middle when the words "Vagina" and "Labrador's Penis" start getting used repetitively. Enjoy!



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Dear Mom,

You gave me Life
You gave me shelter
You gave me food
You still pay for half of my shelter but I now I pay for my own food
Thanks for not aborting me.
That was a good decision.

Happy Mother's Day

Love,
Your Daughter

I remember four days ago when I LOVED Krispy Kreme Doughnuts. The delightfully rich cream filling in their Glazed Kreme Filled doughnut, or the buttery toffee crunch that is full of flavor and full of fun atop their Caramel Kreme Crunch. The distinctively delicious variety of fattening heaven will go straight to your ass but leave warmth and happiness in your heart. They have been a favorite of mine for years and now… I HATE THEM! I will no longer be able to bite into one of their ooey-gooey pieces of heaven because every time I look at one of their doughnuts I will now think of a giant Caucasian butt hole.

After seeing their mascot roaming the streets of Philly it has been brought to my attention that the ad execs at Krispy Kreme are either on crack or just a bunch of creepy perverts. If you have no idea what I am referring to take a look at this:

How the hell does that thing resemble a doughnut in any way, shape or form?! The only thing this walking pile of plush pervertedness looks like is an asshole, a Caucasian one!

Since I’m a good Samaritan (and a tad bit sick in the head) I took it upon myself  to write Krispy Kreme Dougnuts a lengthy complaint letter (along with visuals) informing them of how uncomfortable their ridiculous mascot makes me and probably every other person who isn’t legally blind.

I handed it over to the mailman on Tuesday and will wait patiently for a response. One can only hope that if they do take the time to reply, the response will be just as stupid as the letter I sent them. Fingers crossed.

Here is the letter I wrote that will probably get the FBI to open a file on me (if they don’t have one already).

May 2, 2011

Dear Krispy Kreme Doughnuts,

I am writing you this letter in regards to your Krispy Kreme Doughnut mascot. I find it extremely offensive and can honestly say it looks NOTHING like a doughnut. What the mascot DOES look like is a giant Caucasian butt hole. I do not understand how the design of the mascot slipped through the cracks and wasn’t noticed by advertising and corporate executives. There are now hundreds of giant plush butt holes roaming the streets of busy cities donning the Krispy Kreme name on its hat, scaring children and making people like me uncomfortable and sick to our stomachs.  As an adult who owns their own hot dog costume I can honestly say that whoever made my hot dog suit put a lot of time and effort into it all the way down to the relish on the mustard. It doesn’t resemble anything but a hot dog and there are a couple of perverted things it could resemble if it wasn’t designed right.

Being a person with a sweet tooth, Krispy Kreme Dougnuts were once my favorite treat. I even frequented the doughnut plant in The Hamptons several times but after seeing this I now associate doughnuts with butt holes and that upsets me. I suggest you go back to the drawing board and redesign this hot mess of a mascot so that the general public no longer frowns upon your company.

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Fake boobs out….Stretch marks in.

Real women, real lighting, real conversations. Who says money can’t buy love (for the less blessed individual) ?

During a recent Facebook conversation about strip clubs and post baby bellies (don’t ask what these two topics have in common) an amazing idea popped into my brilliant brain which has the potential to change the world of the less perfect and more ugly forever. My fabulous idea is to create an adult entertainment establishment that will employ only the most common of the female species that have not been blessed with the perfect body or face. Not only will jobs be created for the “less fortunate”, self esteem will also be created while these lovely ladies are dancing for dollars.

We need some kind of reality based adult entertainment in today’s world, right? Let’s face it, most of the guys that frequent strip clubs aren’t the cream of the crop when it comes to the “looks department.” Most of the patrons are short and fat displaying early signs of male pattern baldness.

These desperate, less than handsome men wind up shoving hundreds of dollars down some ungrateful hot girls panties who will then in turn probably go and blow it all on her cocaine habit. All that money being thrown down the tubes. It’s a shame. Now if they were handing their singles over to a “real deal” woman that hard earned cash could be going to the strippers missing tooth fund or maybe a trip to the doctor to get those varicose spider veins removed. The possibilities of how to spend their dancing dollars are endless.
After sitting at the drawing board and consulting with myself I have decided that this plan must be put into effect for all women out there that are far too ugly but have that crazy wild side hidden deep down in a place I like to call “their inner slut.”
My new business venture is….drum role please………

You get REAL women with REAL bodies and REAL personalities. A little sag in the boob, some cottage cheese on the ass maybe some toenail fungus or some bruising from anemia. These will be the hired dancers. No dim lighting to throw your eyesight off either. What you see is what you get.

Not only will the dancer’s self confidence boost from strutting her stuff on stage, the men supporting the  age old sport of stripping will actually have a shot to hook up with the girls. These pole dancing vixens are every day real deal females not to mention they probably have cob webs down there from not being able to play the field due to their bland appearance and will settle for less. Would you want to go to a casino and gamble knowing that there was absolutely no chance that you would ever hit the jackpot?

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I’m going to start by saying, if I actually finished college and had a real job I would never be able to fuck around with people like this via email because I’d actually be working.

Many of you know that I work in a granite and tile showroom. I am all alone (and bored) most of  the time I’m here so when something like this is received in my AOL inbox it’s like Christmas morning to me over and over again. What you are about to read is a scam email sent to me a few days back by a gentleman looking to buy granite counter tops and have them shipped to an orphanage in Haiti. The first few emails are boring and full of details but after that I start fucking with the greedy bastard and then my work week becomes totally worth while.

I am Milano Granite (obviously) and I put the names and conversations in bold to make it an easier read.

Enjoy.

In a message dated 4/5/2011 10:44:08 A.M. Eastern Daylight Time, rmromartinz10@gmail.com writes:

Hi,

Please quote me your firm price for the following without Installation if you can get them

Size : 3 CM Countertops 25.5″ x 106″ 3 Edges Eased and Polished
Quantity: 5
color :Absolute Black

Please indicate when your price quote shall expire and also let me know your contact details for further discussion over this possible order.

NB: Please let me know what you have if you cant get me the above mentioned models

Best Regards

On Tue, Apr 5, 2011 at 3:09 PM, Milano Granite wrote:

Hello

I do have the material and I can produce in a timely fashion. Are you a designer or a home owner?

Thank You,

Jennifer
Milano Granite & Marble
718-477-7200

In a message dated 4/6/2011 7:19:23 A.M. Eastern Daylight Time, rmromartinz10@gmail.com writes:

Thanks very much for the email and i am looking to donate these units to an Orphanage in Haiti and so please let me know the total price for the 5 tops plus tax and i will call you back with my credit card information for you to run thru for the order

Please let me know

On Wed, Apr 6, 2011 at 1:08 PM, Milano Granite wrote:

The total cost is $4719.73 Pick up only. No template/No Install.

5 pieces 106″x25.5″ Black Absolute 3cm granite tops. No cut outs. Material & Fabrication only

In a message dated 4/6/2011 9:28:59 A.M. Eastern Daylight Time, rmromartinz10@gmail.com writes:

Hi,

Thanks for your time,patience and diligence you have for my order, im sending you this E-mail in reference to the pick up and delivery of the units i am purchasing for an Orphanage School and I want this order to be ship through Express Shipping & Cargo Int. which i want to recommend you to contact and get me shipping charges from your location to the address below:
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Freight Company’s Name :Express Shipping & Cargo Int
Contact Person: Attention Mr.Emmanuel Gap
Contact Email :Infoexpressshippingcargo@gmail.com
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And the information that the shipping company will request in order to provide you with the shipping charges is
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1. The full pick up location Address
2.The shipping address
3.Type of packages shipping.
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Below is the shipping address where the packages are going to.

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Did you know that sugar free ice cream will not melt if you leave it outside? You didn’t? Well that’s probably because it’s a myth, a myth my grandmother started back in the summer of 2004 when the east coast had that big black out.

During that long, horrible and inconvenient power outage, my grandma Jo was visiting from South Carolina. Being a grandma, the first thing she worried about wasn’t the fact that I was pregnant and felt like I was going to die from heat exhaustion, instead all of her worries were focused on the food in the freezer and the fact that all of it may spoil if the electric didn’t come back on soon. She had two large coolers outside on the deck and had us help her load them up with the Hot Pockets, frozen broccoli, Miracle Whip and other items stored in my parent’s freezer. When we were just about finished, I grabbed a box of Weight Watchers sugar-free, ice cream bars and placed them in one of the over packed coolers. My grandmother took them out and placed them on the table by the back door and turned to me and said, “You can leave those out, they are sugar-free.” I was puzzled. “Why?” I asked. “Anything sugar-free can’t melt,” my dear, sweet and obviously misinformed grandmother replied. It was within that moment that  I realized that it was 100% worth my while to listen to every single thing this woman said and to write it all down because one day when a comedy site asks me to write for them , I would have some of the greatest material known to man-kind.

My grandma Jo definitely had a hand in raising me and spoiling me. I remember when Garbage Pail Kids

were big back in the eighties.

I only had a few cards, which I obtained by begging my best friend Lauren, to trade but everyone already had the ones I had, and no one wanted to exchange with me. I was a sad kindergardener with a handful of sucky cards until my grandma came home with a surprise. Not only did she get me new cards, but it was an entire sheet of them not even cut yet. It was like getting an uncirculated mint coin from 1562!  I didn’t even have to trade my selfish friends so that I could collect the correct cards to make up that giant garbage Pail Kid picture on the back. The work was already done for me. Where did she get this gem of a present? Was there a black market for Garbage Pail Kids? Did she have to go to a secret location with $10,000, her first born and an alpaca and trade Art Spiegelman for this glorious gift?  There were so many possibilities, but I never found out. She simply told me that she is grandma and can do anything she wants.

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About a year and a half ago when I decided to purchase a hot dog suit as my Halloween costume,  I wasn’t exactly thinking that it would change my life forever.

Not only did my friends absolutely love the hot dog get up, especially with me in it, my mother fell in love with it too. It was like she gave birth to a third child the day I showed up at her house dressed as a wiener.

The crazy woman even set up a Facebook fan page and decided to rename me Von Wiener…and people actually joined the page!!! I began to get the feeling that I was going to start being exploited by this dear, sweet woman who had birthed me many, many years ago and unfortunately I was right.

Five months after purchasing the hot dog suit, my mother called and asked if I would march in the St. Patrick’s Day parade with her Community Board. Unfortunately I jumped at the opportunity and agreed to march before knowing all of the facts. One fact being that I had to go dressed as THE Von Wiener. The second fact was that I had to be nice to the children on the side lines and go over and shake their germ infested tiny little hands. Disgusting! None of this sounded kosher! But even though I felt like my creator had pulled the wool over my eyes, I am a wiener of my word so I prepared to march!

Now, the St. Patrick’s Day parade in my hometown, Staten Island, is one of the biggest, craziest events of the year. Everyone and their mother, cousins, aunts, uncles and friends pack themselves like drunken sardines onto Forest Avenue and watch the parade go by while cheering and hollering all sorts of stupid things. Perfect, just what I needed right? Wrong!

I got to the parade about five minutes after it began. My mother and her group had already left the starting point and now I had to find them. To save myself from any harassment from drunken people wondering why a hot dog was running around like a complete asshole, I decided to carry my costume in my arms until I found the group. Unfortunately I found them quickly. As I ran to them, dressed as a gentile, my mother shot a look at me with such disgust in her eyes and didn’t even have to ask me why I wasn’t wearing my alter ego because the question was written all over her face.

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I would like to dedicate this week’s blog to all the strippers out there. I salute your dedication, upper body strength and swan like grace. Without you the pole would be a lonely place.

When I was twenty-one I had an insane body.

I was five-foot-ten (I still am, I think), had legs that went on forever and curves resembling an hourglass (now I resemble Sponge Bob Square Pants). I ate potato chips and Pepsi for breakfast and Coronas and Mac n’ Cheese for dinner. Working out meant  dancing with my girlfriends at our favorite clubs seven nights a week with a drink in one hand and the other making, “I’m so cool look at me dance” movements similar to those made by  a traffic cop. In short, I thought I was hot shit.

If I had a crystal ball to see what was to become of me, I definitely would have  eaten healthier and been a tad less conceited. I also wouldn’t have had permanent lip liner tattooed on my sausage lips because now I understand that dark lines around the rim of your mouth are best worn by clowns and Atlantic City Hookers.

So what happened to me you ask? Well, I got married, was impregnated, gained sixty-pounds (because I thought all the weight you gain during pregnancy disappears after childbirth), then birthed a nine-pound baby. Unfortunately I only shed twelve pounds from my two-hundred-pound body. I was a mushy, stretch marked blob. I looked just like the creepy older brother, Jed, in Weird Science when he was turned into that disgusting pile of lard by Kelly LeBrock (just add some hair and plump the lips a bit).

I was miserable but I did nothing about it.

Over the years, I slowly lost thirty-five pounds but that wasn’t enough to make give me the confidence to parade around the pool in anything less than a moo-moo. I now had a saggy belly that only a mother could love and I don’t even think she could admit to loving it. I was a smaller version of Chunk from The Goonies.

When I got divorced, instead of really working at becoming a hot MILF, I met a nice Italian boy to settle down with. I gained most of my weight back because we ate pasta and Chevys at least three times a week. Those Chalupas are sooooo friggen good!

So there I was happy, in love and chubby again.

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