My Cougar Hunter Poem

Jennifer — Tue, 01 May 2012 20:05:14 GMT

Let The Beatings Continue

Jennifer — Wed, 22 Feb 2012 20:50:45 GMT

Deep Thoughts

Jennifer — Mon, 30 Jan 2012 19:53:17 GMT

Listen To Me On LA Talk Radio!

Jennifer — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 19:19:08 GMT

Deep Thoughts

Jennifer — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 16:41:00 GMT

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.

New Years Resolutions..They’re Dumb.

Jennifer — Tue, 03 Jan 2012 16:42:00 GMT

We all make them and we all break them. Those empty promises you make your pitiful self as the current year winds down to an end and a new year full of endless possibility (that you’ll probably manage to not take advantage of) begins. To me, making a New Years resolution is stupider than believing that Casey Anthony is fit to watch your child. Why wait until the very last day of the year to decide that you’re going to become a better person on the next calendar day? Why convince yourself that starting January 1st you will start to lose weight as you sit there pondering the idea of a healthy body while double fisting Doritos into your mouth on December 31st?

Why aren’t these decisions made during all of the other 364 days of the year? Anyone who makes a New Years resolution is lying to themselves and completely lazy in my eyes.

Take me for example: On June 17, 2011 I decided to be nicer person so that more people would like me. Sure that meant drinking heavily to alter my daily mood but it was a life decision I made to better myself and I didn’t wait until New Years Eve to make it.

On September 22, 2011 I made a pact to start doing laundry every other day so that I didn’t run out of clean underwear, being forced to wear bathing suit bottoms in their place.

November 2, 2011 one out of the two hermit crabs my son keeps as pets passed away. Instead of telling him it died and having him cry and be sad I decided to leave it in the cage until the day comes that my son realizes it’s dead. I made a promise to myself to make sure I moved the crab around the tank at least twice a day so that there will be no hysterics because my son realizes it has been sitting in the exact same spot for days. That takes a lot of time and dedication on my part but it is something I am willing to do so that my child stays happy.

December 23, 2011 (my last life resolution of the year) was to stop thinking I am amazing and realize that I too have flaws (minor flaws but flaws). Even though I was nicer to people while wearing clean underwear and having a happy child there were things about me that could always continue to be fixed. Sure I may be the life of the party (because I am always drunk so that I stay nicer to the people that surround me ) and sure I make the best instant oatmeal anyone’s ever tasted but these things aren’t important to everyone. As we grow as people we need to continually work on ourselves so that we can experience all the new things life has to offer, like 4G networks and 3D television.

What I’m trying to say is stop procrastinating and waiting until the very last day to make changes! Love yourself enough to want to improve your life on a daily basis. If you’re sick of mopping the floors at McDonalds ask the manager if you can move up the chain to become operator of the microwave. If your significant other is sick of eating Hot Pockets every night for dinner because you’re too lazy to cook for him/her then order Chinese and if you just don’t love yourself enough to make changes, try setting up a Twitter account with hopes of gaining attention from strangers to make yourself feel more important and hopefully putting you on the right track.

Top 10 Shameless Twitter Accounts to Follow in 2011

Jennifer — Fri, 23 Dec 2011 18:57:00 GMT

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?

http://smethanie.com

8- mark normand @marknorm NYC

My name’s Mark. No STDs!

http://marknormandcomedy.com

7- Jim Norton @JimNorton

John Wayne Gacy’s basement

This is my Twitter account.

There are many like it, but this one is mine.

6-kelly oxford @kellyoxford

Designed to make you feel like everything is going well.

I am your Perestroika.

http://kellyoxford.tumblr.com/

5- Mary Charlene @IamEnidColeslaw Chicago-ish

Amanda Knox won’t return any of my calls and I’m super upset about it.

http://favstar.fm/users/iamenidcoleslaw

4- Rose Surnow @rosesurnow Brooklyn

I’m a comic and a writer. Dig it.

The Von’s Top 10 Tweets of The Week

Jennifer — Tue, 20 Dec 2011 16:30:00 GMT

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

The Von’s Top 10 Tweets of The Week

Jennifer — Tue, 13 Dec 2011 11:53:00 GMT

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.

The Von’s Top 10 Tweets of The Week

Jennifer — Thu, 08 Dec 2011 22:18:00 GMT

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.

The Von’s Top 10 Tweets of The Week

Jennifer — Wed, 30 Nov 2011 18:50:00 GMT

Top 10 Tweets 11/29/2011

@KlassyFucker Klassy Fucker
People who buy liquor at 7:47am at CVS mean business.

@dariennelake Darienne Lake
“going to McDonalds for a salad is like going to a whorehouse for a hug”

@natebargatze Nate Bargatze
I just poured my heart into a response to a Happy Thanksgiving text before I realized everyone got the same mass text.

@AaronFullerton Aaron Fullerton
Please sign my petition to make Rob Reiner plant a tree for every star he made act in New Year’s Eve.

@EliBraden Eli Braden
If there are 2 people in your avatar pic you’re the less attractive one

@ddogfilm ddogfilm
when i see typos i always look at the leters on the keyboard and see how far apart they are from each ofher, then silently judge you.

@smelbz Shelby
The worst part of going on a date with a guy I don’t like is how my grandma always dies before our food gets there.

@lianamaeby Liana Maeby
All tattoos are reminder tattoos if you sometimes forget how incredibly cool you are.

@SarahThyre Sarah Thyre
The best way to bond with your spouse is to invite relatives to visit so you can hate them together.

@andylevy Andy Levy
I would like to thank all the delivery people who are making my “never leave the apartment Sunday” possible.

The Von’s Top 10 Tweets of The Week

Jennifer — Wed, 23 Nov 2011 17:21:00 GMT

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

The Von’s Top 10 Tweets of The Week

Jennifer — Tue, 15 Nov 2011 12:46:00 GMT

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.

The Von’s Top 10 Tweets of The Week

Jennifer — Tue, 15 Nov 2011 12:46:00 GMT

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.

The Von’s Top 10 Tweets of the Week

Jennifer — Wed, 09 Nov 2011 17:44:00 GMT

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.

The Von’s Weekly Top 10 Tweets of The Week

Jennifer — Wed, 02 Nov 2011 22:41:00 GMT

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.

The Von’s Top 10 Tweets of The Week

Jennifer — Thu, 27 Oct 2011 17:43:00 GMT

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

Top 10 Tweets of the Week

Jennifer — Fri, 21 Oct 2011 18:34:00 GMT

1. @RobSprance Rob Sprance
I fully support the pink movement, but when is nut cancer going to get some love?

2. @TimDuffy Tim Duffy
I’m not really into things that work anyway. Thanks #BlackBerry.

3. @thedeskchicken thedeskchicken
Herman Cain has 999 problems but getting elected ain’t one.

4. @thedeskchicken thedeskchicken
Woke up and immediately regretted it. Now I know how women feel after sleeping with me.

5. @statusmessages
Facebook needs to change its “it’s complicated” status to “still banging my ex. #funny

6. @ShawneeeToots La Kwanda
MICHALE JACKSON’S SON GOT A HEAD LIKE A BAKED POTATO

7. @rosesurnow Rose Surnow
My dermatologist told me I have Rosaysha. “I have a new sassy black best friend!” “No, it’s a skin condition, you get red.” Booooo

8. @BIGMOMMAPRODS PATRICE ONEAL
I save these kinds of statements for one white person each calendar year. I Fuckin hope Tim Tebow dominates the NFL.

Dear Von: Part Tre

Jennifer — Mon, 10 Oct 2011 20:48:00 GMT

Baby Von

You didn’t ask for it but I brought it back due to my severe laziness and frequent re occurrence of writer’s block. I had some interesting questions submitted via email last week for Dear Von: Part Tre. There were questions about “hood rat stuff” and men and their cars. I even had a few questions that you won’t be reading due to inappropriate content that I don’t even know the answers to.

All in all your questions ROCKED and I’m happy to have had the chance to answer them and offer my amazing advice. So sit back, relax and enjoy the third part to my not so anticipated Dear Von blog.

Let the questions begin!

Why is Megan Fox so overrated? – Rich P

Whore

It’s not that Megan Fox is overrated, it’s that she’s a whore. Men secretly love whores and since she’s hot women seem to fantasize about her as well. She has no talent and a horrible tattoo of Marilyn Monroe on her forearm not to mention she’s married to Brian Austin Green. You have to be pretty desperate to marry David from Beverly Hills 90210. The only one more annoying than him on that show is Ian Ziering and his mullet.

Nice Mullet

If you think you’re THAT hot go after Luke Perry or Jason Priestley. You can even take it to the next level of hotness and go after the guy that played Noah on the show. What a delicious piece of meat he is. Yummmmm…now I’m totally riled up. Anyway, getting back to Megan Fox being a whore, I guarantee you she will be off the radar in five years or less due to her lack of talent OR she’ll have some Brian Austin Green babies and get really fat and grow a few extra chins and then you’ll write me asking:

What happened to Megan Fox? She used to be so hot.

Then I’ll have to explain pregnancy and how it messes up every square inch of your once perfect body. I’ll then go on to explain that all you get out of birthing a life is years of spending money and being bossed around by something you pushed out of your vagina. I’m getting worked up just thinking about it.

I Heart The SPORK

Jennifer — Tue, 27 Sep 2011 22:16:00 GMT

You have some chicken you’d like to eat for lunch and maybe some pudding for dessert? No problem! Soup & Salad? You only need one utensil!

I remember when I was in kindergarten………….

Kindergarten Von

…….the cafeteria lady gave me my tray of food and with her raspy cigarette infested voice looked at me and said, “Grab a spork, kid.” I had no clue what she was talking about. I actually thought that she was a bit insane. I stared blankly at the hair-netted beast causing her to point to a pile of clear plastic packages behind me. I turned around and grabbed one. There seemed to have been a defective spoon inside. As I went for a replacement I realized they were ALL defective! As I stood there wondering what was wrong the line monitor told me to move it and get to my seat. I obeyed.

At my seat I sat there, staring in awe at the plastic stick of wonder. It looked like a spoon but it has pointy things on the end like a fork. It was weird but glorious. So THIS was a spork?! That little old lady with the mustache and hair net wasn’t insane?! She knew exactly what she was talking about!

I ate my entire lunch that day with such excitement. I ate roasted potatoes, Salisbury steak AND apple sauce all with one utensil! It was a turning point in my life and I had the lunch lady to thank for it.

The Spork may have been invented in 1874 by Samuel W. Francis but in 1985 it made it’s debut into my life and has given me something to giggle about every time I hear the word… SPORK!

Disclaimer: The occurrences in this story are actual fact.

Turkey Poop

Jennifer — Wed, 21 Sep 2011 17:13:00 GMT

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!

Top 10 Things That Excite The Von

Jennifer — Sat, 10 Sep 2011 22:26:00 GMT

We all love getting excited. That rush of adrenaline that passes through your body and makes your heart start to race while the feeling of fluttering butterflies take over your stomach like a bad batch of burritos. When I was twenty-one it took a lot to get me excited…. a nice vacation, a new car, even a boyfriend buying me a really nice piece of jewelry. Fast forward to thirty-one and I’m like a cheap first date when it comes to getting me excited. It doesn’t take much. One may actually consider me pathetic(I do most of the time) but I have to admit, being easily excited does brighten up my pathetic day and puts a smile on this adorable face.

In honor of myself I have put together a Top 10 list of things that excite me so that you can compare and see if you are as easily excitable and pathetic as me. Enjoy.

1. Front Load Washer and Dryers

Say Hello To My New Friends

Who doesn’t love a front load washer and dryer?! For the past eight years any time I came into contact with one I became severely jealous and secretly wondered what it was like to be a sock or a shirt swishing around in that sudsy oasis of expensiveness. Then I would go home to my 1978 top load washer and throw my dirty laundry into it like they were red headed step children. Then Home Depot decided to extend my credit line and I decided to extend my debt by ordering my very own front load washer and dryer online! The twins were delivered yesterday and I am DYING to get out of work so I can start washing everything in my house!!!

2. Watching Crackheads Argue in Public

By far one of the best sources of free entertainment around. I usually catch these sightings while I’m sitting in my car at a red light. I’ll look over at the bus stop(because crackheads don’t drive cars they take buses) and 6 out of 20 times I’ll see a pair of skell looking dirt bags arguing about who smoked the last hit or who whose turn it is to prostitute themselves for a dollar. Sometimes they’re fighting about the most random stuff like what year Bill Clinton “dirtied” Monica Lewinsky’s dress. Either way I always stop and stare like I’m looking at a train wreck.

3. Waking Up in the Middle of the Night and Realizing I have Another Three Hours of Sleep Until I Have to Get Up for Work.

Dear God.......

Jennifer — Sat, 27 Aug 2011 18:24:00 GMT

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!

Dear God, “I’m Never Going To Drink Again.”

Jennifer — Sat, 20 Aug 2011 15:21:00 GMT

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.

Thanks For Nothing, Web MD

Jennifer — Tue, 16 Aug 2011 14:57:09 GMT

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.

Stalker Alert!

Jennifer — Tue, 16 Aug 2011 14:50:45 GMT

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!

It's Hot Out-Leave Me Alone!

Jennifer — Tue, 26 Jul 2011 14:35:25 GMT

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.

Top 10 Indications Your Facebooking May Be Getting Out Of Control

Jennifer — Mon, 11 Jul 2011 20:20:53 GMT

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.

Relationships 101 w/ The Von

Jennifer — Wed, 06 Jul 2011 19:33:51 GMT

RELATIONSHIPS: I’ve been in a few, sabotaged some and try to forget the rest. The best part of a relationship is the beginning when the two participants actually like each other and everything in the world is full of glitter and unicorns and your stomach, full of butterflies. Neither love bird can do wrong in their partner’s eyes and sex is occurring at least once a day.

Push forward to the middle segment of the unity ring when farting in front of each other is acceptable, romantic dinners out on the town have switched over to ordering in while eating on the couch in sweats and sex has dwindled down to a mere once a week. The butterflies are still there but only because you ate some bad Mexican while watching old re-runs of The Golden Girls on a Saturday night instead of fondling each other upstairs in the bedroom.

Now the end of the relationship approaches. I like to refer to this time period as the “You Disgust Me beyond Belief” portion.Sex is granted only on special occasions and you would both prefer to be drunk when it’s scheduled to happen, the female no longer bothers putting make up on because she actually wants her mate to not look at her and sleeping on the couch is a treat because it means you get to sleep alone.

Relationships are like a vicious circle of life. They start out as the little, furry, mouse…..

Cute and full of adorableness and then the poisonous python rears it’s ugly head and swallows the little furry bastard whole and moves onto it’s next prey.

Some say I may be a tad bitter but I consider myself a realist. People have high expectations when really we are all humans that can easily get bored if not entertained enough. Being a person that loves to hang my dirty laundry out to dry I will let you all into my world of past and present relationships which will allow you to be the judge as to why I’m so messed up in the head.

Let’s start with my first kiss. I was thirteen yrs old and in love with my best friend (we’ll call him Mistake #1). I threw myself at him for nearly six weeks, which in teenage time feels like three years. Finally on day after school while standing at the bus stop he looked at me and asked, “Do you want to kiss me?” I didn’t even answer him I just went in for the kill. It was amazing! My knees buckled, my heart was racing…it couldn’t have been more perfect. When it was done he took a step back, looked at me and said, “Yep, I’m definitely gay.” Not the reaction I was looking for. I really should have gotten the “gaydar” memo prior to me falling in love with him when we started shopping at Wet Seal and Contempo Casuals and buying the same shirts.

I never picked up on the most obvious clues, but being me I wasn’t going to let those 6 weeks of hunting go to waste.

Well Hello There Soul Mate!

Jennifer — Wed, 06 Jul 2011 19:31:34 GMT

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.

Friends Don't Let Friends Facebook Drunk

Jennifer — Sat, 11 Jun 2011 15:23:45 GMT

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.

"Don't Worry Anthony Weiner, I Believe You." ;)

Jennifer — Mon, 06 Jun 2011 17:09:46 GMT

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.

I’m not going to waste your time recapping the whole ”Anthony Weiner Crotch Story” because bloggers, writers and comedians have been talking about it for days. Honestly, the time spent on snide remarks and ”weiner” jokes can out last any Viagra induced errection.

What I am going to waste your time with is a quick story about how I met this crotch glorifying Congressman.

Weiner Meets Wiener

It was almost Spring of 2010. My mother asked me to dress as a hot dog and walk in the Staten Island St.Paddy’s Day Parade with her Community Board so that people would pay attention to them. I didn’t want to do it. I had a reputation to uphold. I couldn’t be walking around in broad daylight, at the age of thirty, wearing a giant frankfurter suit! (Granted it was my frankfurter suit which I had purchased five months prior because I “had to have it!” but I generally only wear it after dark when visiting bars where everyone is way too intoxicated to judge me.) My mother didn’t care – she made me march anyway.

Needless to say, I was pissy when I got to the parade with the hot dog suit draped over my arm. Leticia (my mother) yelled at me to put the damn thing on and start marching. I hesitantly did what I was told and began dragging my feet down Forest Avenue with a giant uncomfortable frown on my face. She even made me high five the little kids on the sidelines, most of whom were yelling derogatory comments at me while making mean hand gestures.But that sad sack frown was turned upside down within minutes because this is what I saw right before my very eyes:

Congressman Anthony Weiner and his staff were marching 10 feet in front of me. It was fate! A wiener for a Weiner. I decided that I was going to perpetrate a sneak attack. I quietly came up behind him. Picture it – a 5′10″ grown woman dressed as a wiener stalking the real live Congressman Weiner! Suddenly my mother was a genius for making me march! Everyone on the parade route was laughing at Mr.Weiner’s expense. I was having the time of my life. I managed to walk behind him for a full mile before he caught a glimpse of me out of the corner of his eye. He stopped dead in his tracks. I was caught.

"Dear Von"

Jennifer — Tue, 31 May 2011 14:58:44 GMT

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.

I Heart Fu Chen

Jennifer — Sat, 21 May 2011 15:43:47 GMT

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.

The Top 10 Reasons The World Isn’t Going To Fucking End Next Saturday

Jennifer — Sat, 14 May 2011 18:02:00 GMT

Harold Camping predicted it, The Mayans predicted it and even Robert Fitzpatrick, a retired MTA employee, predicted it. I’m talking about Doomsday aka “The End of the World.”

The most recent prediction, which is being spread like a bad case of genital herpes, comes from Mr. Fitzpatrick who like I stated prior is a retired MTA employee and fellow Staten Islander.

This is What a Moron Looks Like

To date this modern day Nostradamus, or complete schizophrenic lunatic as I like to call him, has spent nearly $140,000 on billboard, subway and bus stop ads warning the people of planet Earth that the end is near. So near that I probably won’t get to write next weeks blog because I will be fighting off earthquakes and Jesus Christ according to this bible decoding mental case.

“A giant earthquake will render the earth uninhabitable. God’s people will be resurrected. It is also that day that God stops saving anyone.”

“If you want to set your alarm clock, the quake will happen just before 6 p.m.,” he said.

I really hope that Fitzpatrick’s brain is on the fritz because if this doesn’t happen, which I can pretty much assure you it won’t, I will be setting my alarm for 4 p.m. that day so I can find out where he is, go there dressed as Jesus Christ…..

Jenny Jesus

…..and at 6 p.m on the dot and tell him that he is the only one I am not sparing because he is too dumb to live on after spending his life savings on ridiculous Doomsday ads.

Now for the select few gullable readers out there who are ordering hookers and hard core drugs for the next seven days because you are certain that this imbecile knows what he’s talking about I have one thing to say, “The man worked for the god damn MTA for 26 years! If he couldn’t keep the trains and buses on schedule how the hell is he able to tell you the exact time the Doomsday Earthquake will strike?” What an idiot.

To ease your mind even more, I’ve have conjured up some valid reasons why there is no fucking way the world is ending next Saturday. Please give it a glance before thumbing through the Yellow Pages looking for a cheap escort to bang for the next seven days and of course…Enjoy.

The Top 10 Reasons The World Isn’t Going To Fucking End Next Saturday

1. I still have 2 more months until the 30 gal tub of mayonnaise I bought at COSTCO expires….

……and we all know throwing perfectly good mayonnaise away is a sin in itself.

2. We haven’t figured out who all that porn belongs to that was found in Bin Laden’s hideout.

Creep

Not that it really matters but when I met my ex husband he had enough porn tapes to open up a small video shop in the city if he wanted to. Sure I told half of my friends that I was obviously dating a giant pervert and that I probably should run for the hills but is Bin Laden’s collection of racy videos really news worthy?

He Bites My Vagina.....

Jennifer — Fri, 13 May 2011 14:56:00 GMT

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!

A Mother's Day Poem

Jennifer — Mon, 09 May 2011 15:52:00 GMT

Dear Mom,

You

Krispy Kreme Doughnuts and Caucasian Buttholes

Jennifer — Sat, 07 May 2011 14:55:00 GMT

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.

The Real Deal Strip Club (Because Ugly Girls Need Dollars Too)

Jennifer — Mon, 02 May 2011 16:13:00 GMT

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?

Top 10 Things That Scare The Von

Jennifer — Mon, 25 Apr 2011 16:28:00 GMT

We all have that list embedded inside our brain. The list of things that scare the bejesus out of us making us have reoccurring nightmares until we’ve spent thousands of dollars on psychotherapy trying to convince ourselves that whatever it is that creeps us out isn’t THAT bad. Since I’m poor and have crappy health coverage I am forced to deal with these demons hoping that one day some one in my family will actually graduate college with a psychology degree so I can get some free therapy and overcome my fears.

Below I have listed the top ten things that make me shake, quiver and sometimes cry and sometimes, maybe pee my pants.

Snakes

Snakes scare the shit out of me. It doesn’t matter if it’s a 20 ft snake or a 2 inch snake, size doesn’t matter! (that’s what she said) If a snake appears on the television screen I start shaking like I’m having an epileptic seizure. I’ve felt this way about these scaly, armless, legless and disgusting demons since I was a little kid. I have even convinced myself that if you do something REALLY bad during your stint here on earth God will reincarnate you as a snake. I’m not kidding! I really believe this is probably 99.99 percent true. Do something bad and God will either make you come back as a snake or as Jocelyn Wildenstein. God doesn’t joke around. He means business!

I remember when Snakes on a Plane came out. I didn’t watch T.V. for almost a month because I was afraid the coming attractions for that sick and twisted movie would flash on the screen and then I’d shit my pants. Snakes are no joking matter. The first snake ever recorded in literature was friggen Satan for God’s sake! That right there says it all! That snake may have been able to trick Adam and Eve but it sure isn’t going to trick me.

My Cat

She’s evil.

Haitian Orphans Need Granite Counter Tops Too

Jennifer — Fri, 08 Apr 2011 20:46:00 GMT

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:
================================================
Freight Company’s Name :Express Shipping & Cargo Int
Contact Person: Attention Mr.Emmanuel Gap
Contact Email :Infoexpressshippingcargo@gmail.com
===============================================
And the information that the shipping company will request in order to provide you with the shipping charges is
=================================================
1. The full pick up location Address
2.The shipping address
3.Type of packages shipping.
==================================================
Below is the shipping address where the packages are going to.

Top 10 Things That Drive The Von Crazy

Jennifer — Wed, 06 Apr 2011 15:06:00 GMT

There are many things that annoy The Von but there are ten particular things that drive me absolutely fucking nuts!
ENJOY

1. My boyfriend leaving EVERYTHING open.

Cabinet Doors

Vanity Drawers

Q-Tip Holders etc…

Anything he opens remains open. I don’t understand it. It may be some type of undiagnosed mental disorder. Maybe his parents locked him in his room as a child and now he needs everything to remain ajar. Whatever it is, it’s really fucking annoying and I have probably wasted at least seventy-three minutes of my life (which I’ll never get back) following him around closing the things he leaves open.

2. People that take five hours to tell a two minute story. My time is precious people! Get to the point! I don’t care what color socks Marvin was wearing or how blue the sky was when you found out your boyfriend was cheating on you. He probably cheated because you take forever to get to the God damn point! I have someone in my life who does this and her name is My Mother.

My Mother: The Long Story Teller

Every time she starts to tell me a story I roll my eyes and pray she has some non-perishable food items in the house because I know I’m gonna be there for at least two years. Worse than being trapped by my mom as she shares an endless saga is getting trapped on the telephone by a seasoned story teller when you unwittingly answer the phone in her house and say, “How are you?” just to seem polite. Needless to say that I no longer answer the phone and text everyone instead. Is it selfish??? Yes. Wise?

I Love My Grandma

Jennifer — Tue, 29 Mar 2011 01:44:00 GMT

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.

Admitting You Have A Problem Is The First Step To Recovery

Jennifer — Wed, 23 Mar 2011 17:54:00 GMT

I can remember it like it was yesterday. I stood there with my ridiculous perm, my Amish looking dress and palms sweatier than a bald man’s head in 115 degree weather.

Me in 4th Grade (Don’t Mind The Soy Sauce Stains)

My heart was racing. Was I going to remember every single word? Would I remember to change the sound of my voice for each character? Most importantly, was I gonna win?! It was my fourth grade, storytelling contest, and it was the first thing I had ever entered in my young life. It was that moment in time which would contribute to making me one of the most annoying people on the planet.

I remember the teacher making an announcement about the contest which entailed memorizing a short story, and then, reciting it in front of a panel of judges. There was a $50 savings bond prize, and a trip to the city to compete against other schools if you won. The news instantly gave me butterflies in my stomach! I was going to enter, and I was going to re-tell that god damn story with more passion and more heart than Dr.Seuss and Walt Disney put together! I practiced and practiced and practiced until I was eating, sleeping, and dreaming Goldie Locks and the Three Bears. That’s all I could think about.

Finally, the day came and I told my five minute story to the panel of judges which was made up of my teacher, the school’s principal, and the lunch lady that sported a faint mustache and was missing a tooth. I told that story like it was going out of style, and I was friggen awesome! Those bears never sounded so real and that Goldie Locks never sounded so Golden. I was a natural! Unfortunately, I wasn’t as good as I thought, because I finished third, and the prize for 3^rd place was an honorable mention certificate with my name spelled incorrectly on it, letting everyone know I was a loser who couldn’t tell a story.

It takes a lot more to knock me down though. I entered that same story telling contest the following year and placed second.

Reunited and It Feels So Good

Jennifer — Fri, 11 Mar 2011 23:51:00 GMT

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.

An Ode To Strippers

Jennifer — Fri, 04 Mar 2011 21:23:00 GMT

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.

The Dog Goes, “Moooo!”

Jennifer — Fri, 25 Feb 2011 21:57:00 GMT

I’m pretty sure that the ability to identify animals is something a child is able to do at a fairly early age thanks to Mattel’s See-N-Say.

Most toddlers can point out a dog, cat, pig etc. and even tell you what sounds those animals make (“the cow goes…moooooooo”).

Unfortunately I wasn’t like most toddlers. My parents struggled to teach me new things when I was a small yet remarkably stunning child.

Those of you who have heard this story love it so much that you ask me to tell it again and again (especially when you are drunk). I don’t usually enjoy oral story-telling because I hate being locked into a conversation with another human being for that long. So I have decided to put the story in writing that way you can keep it in your pocket for future laughs at my expense.

It was a hot summer day and I was standing outside on the back porch of our home with my parents and my baby brother. Sheba, our German Sheppard, was running around the yard playing with her toys and having a grand old time for herself. We were all standing around smiling and enjoying life when I decided that I wanted to hear Sheba speak. “Moo, Sheba,” I called out to her as she ran around the yard.

I issued the order over and again she just wouldn’t do that simple task! It was at that point that my father raised an eyebrow, turned to me and asked, “Jennifer, what sound does Sheba make?” I looked my father in the eyes and proudly stated, “Moo!”

My father’s smile turned into a look of worry as he asked me the next question. “Jennifer, what type of animal is Sheba?”

Oh, come on, Dad. I knew this. How dumb did he think his almost five year old was? I turned to him with great confidence and replied, “Sheba is a cow!”

With a swift shaking of his head my dad sternly said, “No, Sheba is a dog.”

A dog? Who was he kidding? “No, Sheba’s a cow!” I replied.

The conversation went back and forth in this way for about five minutes until my dad finally decided to give up. I guess he just accepted the fact that I may not have been up to par with other children my age. He was probably wishing that he had coughed up the money for a real day care instead of sending me to the one located in the bowling alley where my mother bowled on her weekday leagues. Not only did the bowling alley daycare not have actual books with pictures of farm animals in it or any books for that matter, it’s See-N-Say was obviously broken because it fed me totally wrong information about dogs and cows and what sounds they make.

Fast forward about twenty-three years to a scene where I cause severe déjà vu for my dad and great embarrassment to myself in the presence of four doctors, a nurse and a turkey.

It was a hot summer day and I was outside my parent’s home with my dad, my son and my brother.

Press #1 for English...

Jennifer — Fri, 25 Feb 2011 14:29:00 GMT

Over the past few weeks my blog has showcased the low points of complete morons and idiots. I’ve written about evil, little toddlers dressed as baby prostitutes to grown men who think sporting a pencil mustache will get people to take them more seriously. Some of you may have laughed and others may think I’m a certifiable lunatic who should be kept away from the entire human population.

So that everyone is clear on who and what I am, this week I have decided to give all my loyal readers (all nine of them including my mom and grandma) a look into whom The Von really is. What are my hopes, my dreams, my feeling about McDonalds removing the McRib from their menu? To help the process along, I have come up with a few questions to ask myself. I hope that after I answer them you will have a better understanding of what makes me tick. So let’s get started before I forget the questions.

Q: When, where and under what name were you born?

A: I was born on March 26, 1980 in Broward County, Florida (better known as the place where COPS is filmed most of the time). To be original, my mother named me Jenifer with one “N.” My original name lasted all of two months until my mom realized that Jenifer was pronounced Je’-neye-fer and that was pretty stupid. So now I’m Jennifer with two “N’s.”

Q: Do you have any siblings?

A: Yes.

Q: How many?

A: One

Q: What is his/her name?

A: Robert

Q: Did you grow up in Florida?

A: No.

Q: Where did you grow up?

A: Staten Island

Q: Did you like growing up in Staten Island?

A: Yes.

Q: Do you think maybe you can give me more than a one word answer when I ask you a question?

A: OK

Q: What are some regrets you may have from your toddler to pre-pubescent years of life?

A: When I was about six years old I convinced my brother, who was four at the time, to shut all the lights in the kitchen and chew on a package of SNAPS so that I could see if his mouth would light up like the MACYS fireworks display. I only saw one little spark come from his mouth before my father walked in and went crazy. Apparently there is gun powder in SNAPS and you’re definitely NOT supposed to put them anywhere near your mouth.

Q: That sounds pretty nuts. Anything else you may regret from those years?

A: I regret not seeking therapy for my fear of monkeys. I shit my bed occasionally until I was about four years old because I was afraid to get up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom because I thought the monkeys would be outside my bedroom door waiting for me. It was intense and embarrassing. I can’t even watch Family Guy because of the evil monkey that lives in Chris’ closet!

Seeing that confirmed for me that the scary monkey does exist, confirming that I really wasn’t nuts as a kid.

Crazy Nastyass Honey Badger (narrated by Randall)

Jennifer — Sat, 12 Feb 2011 14:58:00 GMT

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10- albertina rizzo @albz

http://hialbertina.tumblr.com/

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8- mark normand @marknorm NYC

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6-kelly oxford @kellyoxford

5- Mary Charlene @IamEnidColeslaw Chicago-ish

4- Rose Surnow @rosesurnow Brooklyn

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Press #1 for English...

Crazy Nastyass Honey Badger (narrated by Randall)