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February 28, 2003
Mutton dressed as lamb? Dear Kitty Winn, I was sorting through my wardrobe today and looking over my snazzy collection of miniskirts — leopard, glitter, pinstripe, houndstooth. But then I got to thinking: I just turned 31 and I don't want to end up like one of those garish middle aged hags you see on the subway in ankle boots, dripping mascara and showing off leathery, sagging thigh. When do I know when to say when with flashy clothes and glittery makeup? I am a tramp with Dignity! -hot diggety Dear dig dug, Kitty thinks you?re barking up the wrong tree on this one. You?re never too old for glitter! Sagging breasts? Just think of that as feature-length cleavage. Kitty looks forward to seeing the old whore who lives down the street waiting for the bus, as do the neighborhood school kids. You should hear them call out in their cheerful childish tones! Really, cupcake, you should dress in a way that makes YOU feel good at the time. Damn the feelings of others! Vogue magazine might tell you to invest in a closet chock-full of Escada and a platinum Rascal scooter, and these harpies will tell you What Not to Wear. They firmly decree that "No woman over 35 should wear skirts above the knee." So you have a grace period of about 4 years! Problem solved? But Kitty feels confident that there are no definitive rules, with the one exception being that VPL is déclassé at any age! Pull up your pants, Paris Hilton! That old whore from the bus stop is happy, and that's good enough for Kitty. Kitty personally can't wait to age another 20, er, 40 years so she can really work the "whatever happened to Baby Jane?" look. Scarlet lips lined outside the natural border, eyebrows plucked off and drawn back on? The stuff of legends. Add an ivory-tipped cane, and you'll be rapping the knuckles of orphans in no time! You might try to pick a role model for your impending golden years, someone you feel oozes class and style, and hop that train. Joan Crawford? Debbie Harry? How about the Queen Mum or Mrs. Hannigan? Loni Anderson? Ah, or Vegas Ann-Margret. Anyhoo, dignity, schmignity. After all, you don?t want to cheat your loved ones out of a Jenny Jones appearance? See You're Too Old, You're Somebody's Mom, That Sexy Gear Is NOT The Bomb! Once more into the bleach, -Kitty
Posted
1:54 PM
by Licketysplit
Let the Spirits Flow Dear Kitty Winn, I have a lame problem, and I'm trying to wrack my brain to make it seem less lame and more earth shattering, but in the end, it's pretty lame. Maybe I am lame. You tell me. I am working on a book. I think what I have so far is really good, and other people have told me so, but I can't seem to make any progress on it. My therapist says I have a fear of success, but what I could really use in my stagnant life right now is a little success. I thought about hiring someone to crack the whip and make me write, but I can't really afford it. As it is, I use every diversion at my command to keep from sitting down in front of the computer, and when I finally do, nothing comes to me. I don't expect you to have any miracle psychological or logistical solution, but perhaps you can recommend a drug that'll help me loosen up a bit and get my fingers flying across the keyboard. Yours, The Procrastinating Pen Dear Pen, What is the writer's best friend, if not alcohol? Does the name James Joyce ring any bells in your dainty post-everything skull? Where would literature be without booze- you could fill the Library of Alexandria with all the great pages that have been sodden by drink. And then you could burn it down. Perhaps you are not the whiskey guzzling type. Then I suggest you toughen up! Writing isn't for wusses. By the way, I would like the name of your therapist. I could stand to have someone pandering to me right now. But maybe thats just my hangover talking. -Kitty Winn
Posted
7:09 AM
by Lambchop
February 27, 2003
?Like I need a hole in the head 
Today only! Interview with a folksinging exposure victim! Notorious T.I.M.: I almost died today waiting for the redline at Harvard.. Notorious T.I.M.: folk singers Licketysplit: no! Notorious T.I.M.: you would have gotten such a laugh Notorious T.I.M.: there is this new pair Licketysplit: worse than carnies! Notorious T.I.M.: man and woman Notorious T.I.M.: they sing in harmony Notorious T.I.M.: he plays guitar Notorious T.I.M.: so after seeing that preview I'm dying laughing Licketysplit: how revolting it must have been for you! Notorious T.I.M.: the T was backed up so I got stuck listening to like 5 or 6 songs Notorious T.I.M.: I came in at "River runs deep" Licketysplit: holy shit Notorious T.I.M.: which had the same chorus over and over that said "deep" like 8 times Licketysplit: do they do this kind of thing to be *funny*? Notorious T.I.M.: river runs deep, the river runs deep, deeper than the deep valley to the deep sea, river runs deep Notorious T.I.M.: no Notorious T.I.M.: I don't think so Notorious T.I.M.: then there was "hercules and einstein" Licketysplit: oh man i'm cracking up Notorious T.I.M.: then they broke into "give a little kindness" Notorious T.I.M.: which had the best line of "loving your neighbor/ looks good on paper" Notorious T.I.M.: "but its really hard to live that way" or something Notorious T.I.M.: I didn't think it could get any cheesier but Notorious T.I.M.: then came "You've got to have a backup plan" Licketysplit: gack! Licketysplit: nothing like starting your day on a totally surreal footing Notorious T.I.M.: it's main chorus line was something like "you've got to have something to fall back on, you have to have a little something on the side" Licketysplit: did you write this shit down? Notorious T.I.M.: so sometimes he starts in with his light guitar playing and sings, then she comes in and they sing in harmony the rest of the song Notorious T.I.M.: haha, no I just had to listen for so long Notorious T.I.M.: I tried to remember on purpose because I had to tell you Licketysplit: i am so glad you did! Notorious T.I.M.: I've seen them like twice now Notorious T.I.M.: but today I listened Licketysplit: this is totally reviving me from my marginally hungover state Notorious T.I.M.: they were straight out of the movie [A Mighty Wind] Notorious T.I.M.: they made me want to jump in front of the next train xxoo
Posted
1:09 PM
by Licketysplit
Could you be mine, would you be mine? .jpg)
 O, Mr. Rogers! You have gone on to tv heaven. Every afternoon in 1978 Little Lambchop sat too close to the tv, rocking her bottom and singing along while Fred cardigan swapped. I don't really have any jokes to insert here, because I am having a rare moment of a sincerely fond recollection. I must add, however, that I am rather agape at Mr. Rogers mode of checking out. What's the point of me trying to quit smoking and curb my alcoholism if Mr. Bloody Rogers dies of Cancer?! How can such a soft-spoken man have been riddled with tumors? Can't really picture him bingeing on red meat and pouring vodka down his throat, lighting a smoke with the butt of the last one and screaming at his wife to get off his back about the goddamned dishes, can you? Well, another of the universe's mysteries. Thanks for Sharing. Farewell, Fred.
Posted
11:07 AM
by Lambchop
Purging
I have lost a day in there somewhere. Really. I spent all of yesterday believing it was tues. And was hopelessly unable to count or determine how many days had passed since sunday without getting up and looking at my desktop calendar. It just goes to show you, a day without a blog is like a broken pencil. Pointless. Its all about self-improvement, though. Yesterday i learned how to purge an eggplant! (it does not mean what you think it does. thanks to Stu for the scrummy link!) It has been pointed out to me that this Blog is rather lacking in personal information. I, who get to spend all day being me, am not sure this is a deficit. But ever ready to please, here is a List of the Top Ten Things I Hate That are In My Closet: 10. The punk rock belt I am no longer punk rock enough for. 9. The tube top with the picture of the dog on it. (I was with you, Lickety, when I bought this- please explain!) 8. Underwear that is only fit to be bled upon. 7. Yards of leopard fur that I am going to "do something with". 6. Moths. 5. That silvery dress that looks so pretty on the hanger but makes my hips look like airport terminals. 4. Moths (i really do HATE them, scourge, but it's too dull an item to occupy the top spot) 3. The unfathomable tangle of run, colored stockings. 2. The pink feather boa that Sheds.(I got rid of it on another continent and still get greeted by a puff of feathers when i open the door) 1. That stinky corpse. Top Tens are all about payoff, aren't they? smooch
Posted
4:10 AM
by Lambchop
February 25, 2003
Everything coming up roses I spent the afternoon drinking coffee on the corner with the other underemployed. If you walk around Berlin during the daytime, you would think no one works. And when you sit in a café with the naive expectation of getting a drink, you realize that indeed, no one does. But I did eventually spend a couple caffeine soaked hours in my studio.  smooch
Posted
6:02 PM
by Lambchop
Hungry for love Dear Kitty Winn, I have a relatively new boyfriend (six months) and an even newer bit of pudge. I have begun to exercise because I am not into it. But how do I find out if he thinks I am fat?! You can't just ask! I have to know!! -can't sleep (no trouble eating, though) Dear Sally, Au contraire, mon cherie, guys love it when you come right out and ask! Repeatedly. Try to cry while inquiring. Wait until you are slated to head out for a big night on the town. Put on an especially form-fitting frock and collapse in a heap of smeared lipstick and Lee Press-Ons, drumming your feet on the divan until your mules fly off. He?ll ask ?What?s wrong, darling?? and you can yank back the curtain from your fun house mirror of body image! Actually, Kitty will let you in on the secret to men: Everyone likes a little junk in the trunk. You must learn to wave it like a juicy filet before a hungry dingo. If this guy?s not into it, you can surely find someone who is! And why aren?t your budoir antics enough to keep off the pounds? No woman worth her weight in Fracas should have to suffer the indignity of exercising, especially after only six months of lovin?. Is this the real heart of your problem? Is he a dud between the sheets? Let?s get physical, -Kitty
Posted
3:07 PM
by Licketysplit
To name it is to claim it
Sexual Mysteries of the Body and Mind (work safe, more or less) In case you were wondering, in Cognitive, I am an "asshole." In Optic, I am a "sexual Bobby Fischer" Lambchop scored "pervert" in both categories! xxoo
Posted
2:07 PM
by Licketysplit
Can I have some more, please? Dear Kitty Winn, I wrote to you a few weeks ago and your advice about the breast implants was swell, but I must admit that I knuckled under and paid off my credit card debt instead. But I do have a few bucks left, just not enough for elective surgery. So I?m slinking back to you to ask how I should fritter $1,000. Is it time for a vacation? Some shiatsu massages? Or should I be practical all the way and tuck it back in a musty bank vault? And then there?s always charity. Surely there?s some starving children somewhere. Is Biafra still trendy? Kitty, you?re my last resort since I usually do all my financial planning in a whirl of penitence following a drug binge. And I?m out of drugs! -Mo? money, mo? problems Dear MoMo Now I know how the workhouse master felt when Oliver Twist asked for seconds. We don't double dip in askery here. Do you think Dan Savage has to sit around all day, dreaming up new places for his readers to stick their rude bits? Well, I'll take this indignity on the chin since you have caught me at a blank in my schedule. That impossible black hole when Rockford Files is over and Magnum, P.I. won't be starting for another 40 minutes. However I think you will find you have answered your own question- what you really seem to need are drugs. And if crawling around on the floor for a couple of days, playing with scotch tape and string cheese while blaring Scott Walker does not give you any ideas, well, you will be out the money anyhow. Tidy, isn't it? Now go away. -Kitty Winn
Posted
8:49 AM
by Lambchop
February 24, 2003
State of the Lambchop Address
Posted
5:27 PM
by Lambchop
Responsible Journalism
I?m a magazine junkie. My first Vogue subscription was right up there with getting my driver?s license. Technically, I even have a degree in magazine journalism. That wasn?t too hard to do, as you might imagine. I know a magzine is called a book, and the area with the stories is called a well. But other than that, the curriculum did not live up to my expectations. I dreamed of prancing around in sky-high stilettos, nabbing emu muffs from the freebie closet, maybe fetching Anna Wintour or Liz Tilberis some passion fruit tea. Or infant blood. I would toss off opinions on the bag of the season, foment Halston revivals, and take to hurdling over fire hydrants to escape Bill Cunningham constantly photographing me. But then I realized that a) I kept having to take crappy newswriting classes to fulfill core requirements, and b) I would make about $25k starting out on staff on a fashion mag. And I wasn?t already independently wealthy enough to afford the requisite wardrobe and the crappy NY studio at a good address. And I got so fed up with the newswriting classes that I just started making shit up. Oh yes, that?s about the worst thing you can do as a journalist. It?s not like I invented a heroin-addicted tot and started a national outcry, but I had one professor convinced that street luging was Boston's underground sport of choice. I' m not necessarily proud of making things up, but you shoulda gotten a load of these profs. I had one whole class on how to "Boston Herald-ize" a headline. A reputable paper says "Nightclub fire kills 90?" The Boston Herald says "DEATHTRAP!" This was not what I wanted to do in life. And I only had a semester left to get my degree! If I had it to do over again, I would have picked a different program at a different school. Seventeen-year-olds should not be allowed to make momentous decisions that will eventually cost them much aggravation, not to mention a hundred grand. Since I was clearly no good at creative non-fiction unless I was making it up, I gave up on writing for a living and went for the cheap, easy loot of web development. Ah, the late 90?s! Hell, back then I could afford the clothes. Nowadays I still buy all the magazines. Not Glamour, not Cosmo, not In Style. Lucky? Doesn?t turn my crank. Just the ones with really inaccessible fashion layouts. I have piles and piles littering my apartment. This morning I was flipping through Elle, and I ran across this bang-up piece on Matt Dillon, by Rachael Combe. Basically she lured Mr. Dillon back to her apartment and cooked up dinner on the pretext of interviewing him. Then she let the steak catch fire! He had to wield an extinguisher! Now I?m cradling my head in my hands and thinking ?Oh, I?ve wasted my life? (using the voice of Comic Book Guy from the Simpsons). If only I had known that the secret to journalism was putting celebrities in peril. To think that I could be luring a drunken David Bowie to my rooftop plunge pool right now! I could be scattering ball bearings in the foyer to welcome Ashton Kutcher or Adrian Brody. Think Misery. Think shoving Christopher Walken from a ski gondola. Am I ever on the wrong track.... C?est la vie. xxoo
Posted
11:48 AM
by Licketysplit
springtime for hitler
Posted
10:46 AM
by Lambchop
February 22, 2003
Farewell and Adieu, ye Fair Spanish Ladies
Posted
5:56 AM
by Lambchop
February 21, 2003
Tell me about the rabbits, Trista Dear Kitty Winn, A few months ago I slugged it out with a few dozen other girls on a popular TV show. I won the affections of a lunkish Midwestern kinda guy. Everything was really dreamy for a few weeks, but then he looked at another girl in a bar! I did what any self-respecting person with crazy eyes would do and hucked the engagement ring at his head! I mean, I?m his fiancée! That alone should demand he pluck out his offending eye. We had a connection! And he didn?t see it that way. I like the idea of making a guy get down on his knees to re-propose every few days. I think guys like that too, it makes them feel like they have a special job to do. But then he just got all weird on me and wouldn?t spend the holidays with me. What?s with that, I?m his fiancée! And then he didn?t love me anymore. But I?m his fiancée! I have a ring! Should I keep it, Kitty? I won it fair and square. -hella crazy Dear Helene, If I had one of those automagical Tivos, I would have zapped right past you, because you scare me so much. But I needed to see Trista lead Ryan around like a trusty St. Bernard. Yes, you do have crazy eyes. But Ryan seems to be on some serious veterinary tranks. Is he slightly retarded? Or is it just that rocky mountain high. At any rate, I hope Trista doesn?t let him pet her pretty hair too long. He?s got big strong hands. Stay away from me, -Kitty P.S. Sure, keep the precious, go right ahead! Fine by me!
Posted
2:56 PM
by Licketysplit
workaday When I was an undergrad studying art, we thought that being a painter meant being asked for your opinions while sitting in a café in paint-smeared clothes. When I was a grad student we thought that being a painter meant being asked for your opinions in Vanity Fair, wearing Versace. But I'll tell you it really means spending the day in your underwear listening to the psychedelic furs, and being asked to take the trash out once in while. Oh, sometimes making stuff, too:  smooch
Posted
9:39 AM
by Lambchop
Winn-ers and Losers Dear Kitty Winn, I am a very critical person..Definitely cynical, definitely a champion worrier. But yet...I'm pretty happy overall. I just can't help it. I'm lucky and I know it, but I don't typically discuss that. This annoys my miserable friends.When I have good news to report, they don't say things like "Congratulations." They take my news and turn it around until it's self-referential. Let's say I get a new job without even looking very hard. They are having a hard time finding a job, so the first thing they say is "Oh, I'll never find a job." I smile pleasantly, displaying my gleaming white choppers, and respond with something like "Oh sure you will, one thing that worked for me was finding out which friends' companies are hiring." But I want to yell at them. To say "Look fucko, how about a 'way to go, sport?' How about not thinking about yourself for one freaking irksome minute of the day?" Not to mention the fact that I had just been laid off, hadn't even bitched about that, had gone out and started blanketing people with resumes and making phone calls instead? Never pissed and moaned so they felt compelled to pick up the check at lunch out of embarrassment at their own good fortune. Tell me, Kitty, am I wrong to consider just ditching these people? Can you rehabilitate an energy vampire, or do I need to find a silver stake or something? There are a few...It would deplete my friend roster, but with friends like these, yadda yadda. Am I misunderstanding something? If I do ditch them, do I owe an explanation? I don't know that it would help, but it might be akin to exorcism. -Johnny Handsome Dear Handsome It seems that you are the one who needs to vent! Forget your loser friends. How about we have lunch? I fancy a bit of chilean sea bass in a cozy lounge as a respite from job-hunting, which is going really terribly since you asked. 1 o'clock good for you? -Kitty Winn
Posted
4:28 AM
by Lambchop
Eg gaf ykkur von sem vard ad vonbrigdum... Crescendos big enough to park a bus in, thats what I'm talkin' about.
Posted
2:08 AM
by Lambchop
February 20, 2003
Takk
Posted
6:41 PM
by Lambchop
Hurry up and wait: a travelogue The two feet of snow Boston received a few days ago are still snarling things. Last night it took a full hour to drive from zee Back Bay to Mr. H's house in Slummerville. There was honking and gesticulating, and failure to yield to emergency vehicles. And then there were the other drivers, ba dum dum. No, I'm teasing. Of all the rages I am known to enjoy, road rage is not among them. I did read about one severe case of snow rage. In Framingham. Isn't that the town where people kill each other at their kids' hockey games? Go figure. And I won't even get started on the T. The rage has disipated to a collective ennui. If it had a sound, it would be a low-pitched whiny "nnnnnnnnnuuuuuuhhhh." It's finally warm enough to go out without gloves and a ski mask, so to celebrate living through a hellish drive, we walked to Rudy's Cafe, the margarita mecca of Teele Square. On the way back, I noticed a salon called "Skin Skedaddle." What is the meaning of this? "We extract to the point of disfiguration. People will skedaddle when they see you!" That's almost as good as Hair-azz, which briefly existed next to the Outback in Burlington. And let's not forget what always, always cracks me up in Porter Square: "Long Funeral Service." It used to be Long-Hurley, which was passable, but I guess there was some sort of schism. While I'm free associating, I'd like to express my displeasure at the high cost of the Six Feet Under box set. But yes, I'm just rambling. Must be hibernation wearing off. Must focus. On...who won the Bachelorette! I'm going to subtitle this: And Shamu makes 3 Good God, who would have thought she would choo-choo choose Ryan? Those were the two most surreal hours of my life. He's a poet, and he don't even know it. But Charlie, Charlie had a serious hair problem. I kept flashing back to the footage of melancholy sea birds after the Exxon Valdez. Anyway, any guy who can tolerate the booming cadence of her biological clock totally deserves her. My stomach crawled up into my throat during the scene where she and Ryan, or maybe it was Charlie, were feeding bread to ducks. She cooed "Ready? Over here!" and I could picture her perfectly in maternity overalls, herding tow-headed children around on an "educational" experience. Arghhh.... I topped off my evening with a nightcap of "I'm a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here!" Melissa Rivers blinked back tears as she realized she was there to be "humiliated" by having creepy crawling bugs and rats stuffed down her pants. Zen. And you bet your ass I will also tune in tonight to watch the Bachelor "follow-up" with Aaron and tearful Helene. I'd like to say I have something better to do, but somehow this has become important to me. xxoo
Posted
11:45 AM
by Licketysplit
February 19, 2003
0 comments
chop change chop
Posted
10:48 AM
by Lambchop
February 18, 2003
Hell is other people? Dear Kitty Winn, I am a sad and lonely act, gagging for sex. My sympathetic friends have helped set me up on a couple of dates, but every time I found myself on the road to snog city, some part of me would panic and find fault with the guy-like I didn't like his side parting, or he said "wicked" once too often. But then I go right back to repining my celibacy. Naturally, my friends are no longer sympathetic. Perhaps you can answer the question that's on their minds- "what the hell is the matter with (me)?!" -Cry for love Dear Crybaby, It's not you, it's them! Actually, that's not true, it's YOU, YOU, YOU, but I cheered you up for a minute right? One possible course of action is to re-evaluate your romantic timeline. Perhaps you are letting the woo drag on a bit too long? It helps to have already sampled the milk before you let the cow start to annoy you. So hop to it and kiss on the first date (be safe of course). If it's sex you want, sex ye shall have! Then you'll have at least a 3-10 day cuddle hormone-fueled fog before you start to blink, rub your eyes, and notice the object of your lust sways his hips like a woman or lets the fork touch his teeth. Believe me, there is no relationship lacking this phase of revulsion. Your "Oh God, how did I get here?" moment could come in 2 days, or 20 years. But if it's worth pursuing, you'll forge ahead. You'll know when. Alternately, if it really seems that no one measures up, maybe your friends just don't know anyone good! Maybe you need to ditch your friends for more attractive ones, with more suave, attractive friends of their own. Failing that, figure out what's eating you about yourself. If you don't like yourself, you are likely a cranky poop, on your way to being a nosy old bat. And who's going to want to be around such an obvious open wound? Maybe all these losers are really trying to drive you away because you are so insufferable and pathetic that they don't know what else to do? Oh, put the letter opener down! Turn off the oven! Kitty is just trying to provoke. Sadly, the answer is that you are the key to your own happiness. No one else can make anything better if you don't allow them. It's ok to be a solitary soul for a while. Try to put the cravings for love aside and find it within yourself. Think Buddhism. What Would Richard Gere Do? Keep Kitty updated, Crybaby, as your problem is more thorny than anticipated. Relax, be yourself, and before you know it, you'll be picking out a thermos for that special someone, not an ordinary thermos either. Fortitude, -Kitty
Posted
9:50 PM
by Licketysplit
get fit for life I have been avoiding it, talking about being sick, detailing the contents of my hanky with comments like "i didn't know that shade of green existed in nature. not in my nature, anyway...." But dammit I am flu-ey and really bored of it. So i was fiddling with the velcro closure on my new medical brace (its an elastic thing that holds things together in the event of abdominal muscle failure. it's padded on the outside which makes it also look like a shield, if Gaultier made them.) when I came across this article about infanticide. And it interested me because lately my ideas about the nature of beauty and weakness and their counterparts have moved into the suggestion of physical defects or conditions. My head is full of thick shiny braids and warped spines and the possibility for happiness. xoxo
Posted
7:25 AM
by Lambchop
Come all ye snowbound as Homer Simpson would say, "mmm...sacrilegious." Via my roommate's pal B. xxoo
Posted
12:03 AM
by Licketysplit
February 17, 2003
I love you like a fat kid loves cake It's a slow news day. Boston is under a blanket of white stuff....much like the one under which Vomitola staff frequently finds themselves. I was toying with the idea of a post called "Things I have spilled on my desk." Last week it was chowder. Corn chowder, not man chowder. Heather. A co-worker walked into my office and said "Aw man, I missed the bukkake." A few days later, marinara sauce. Same co-worker walked in, he of impeccable timing, and said "Aw man, I missed the placenta!" The moral of all this? I'm a saucy girl? Bukkake is always amusing? I don't know what to tell you. I'm ashamed of myself, really. And I do clean it up, it's not like it festers for days! Surely that's more important than the snow out there. I feel for all those poor Fox news bastards shivering out along the highway in their parkas. "It appears to be snowing, yes, quite a bit. I'd stay inside if I were you. Don't walk on the Charles, morons!" That out of the way, I should explain the title of the post. It's from the song "21 Questions" by 50 Cent. 50 is a numerological cipher, he is! He is really on the pulse of America's damaging love affair with food. Witness 50's take on the obesity epidemic, especially among African-American women: Fat, fat, them Snickers got your ass getting fat, fat Those cookies got your ass getting fat, fat That Cake got your ass getting fat, fat Bitch you grown, that ain't baby fat, fat In the gym I see your ass up on the Stairmaster But you got it on level two bitch go a little faster Look girl, I ain't gonna lie, I'll tell you how I feel They should handcuff your big ass to the treadmill [More] He's really on to something, huh. The secret to weight loss is definitely to reduce intake while increasing activity. I'm not sure diet experts would agree that one should handcuff him or herself to gym equipment, but I'm sure 50 cent was speaking in metaphorical terms, citing willpower as a virtue. In fact I'm inspired to get a personal trainer! Brawny Hans will have me lithe and limber in no time. Finally, here's some entertainment for those of you stuck at home. This video for DJ Format's "We Know Something..." features animal suited rapping and dancing. It's a hearty quicktime download, but worth the wait. Work safe, but may give you furverts out there a big chubby. xxoo
Posted
5:25 PM
by Licketysplit
February 15, 2003
And it IS over Kitty Winn realizes that, in a haze of perfumed paper and silk heart printed teddies, I gave short shrift to a troubled soul. So as soon as my nails are dry, I will attend to the matter. There. Dear Sad, I am going to have to break some bad news to you. If your girlfriend is putting down your gigglestick in public, this relationship is toast. You are in bed with her- wake up, roll over, and stretch out your arm. Feel that? That's Another Man. Your girlfriend has moved on to greener pastures and is probably already planning romantic getaways with someone she deems less "meatballish". Somehow the breakup has escaped your attention. Perhaps you should put down the hash pipe and try to remember if you heard the words "it's over!" being hurled angrily at you along with your clothes. Or maybe you haven't missed anything- maybe you have some extraordinary qualities that make the final step of departing difficult for her. Tell me, are you rich? How rich? Anyway, you have to face facts. Whether her tampons are still under your bathroom sink or not, You Are Single. Try to enjoy it. After all, being single makes dating that much easier. -Kitty Winn
Posted
5:29 PM
by Lambchop
When it's over, it's over Lambchop presents the antidote for the sticky fluff of yesterday. Quit eating those chocolate hearts and check out Mr. Jack. He will ruin you for life. And if you still have a romantic thought left in your head, wonder, as my friend did, "Is it the mouth that wiggles or just the moustache?"
Posted
4:53 PM
by Lambchop
0 comments February 14, 2003
Love is in the Air (or at least in stores) Dear Kitty Winn I really enjoy your letters. My problem is my girlfriend. We are having a rough time lately and she expresses her feelings mainly by making fun of me in front of our friends. She calls me "meatball" and quips that my cock is useless. She makes us all laugh, but I wonder if I am laughing my way to singlehood. -sad clown Dear Sad Kitty Winn is awash in roses and does not have time for the sorry dog's dinner that is your life. It's Valentines Day! Thank you boys for the scented bath pearls and the petit-fours and ankle bracelets and trails of hershey's kisses. Its time to uncork the bubbly and read through the perfumed sonnets. Flowers everywhere! How dare anyone court me with their sniffly little foo foo meatball problems! (we will return tomorrow to our regularly scheduled misery) -Kitty Winn
Posted
6:18 PM
by Lambchop
Do it for Science! Hello boys and girls, Kitty Winn here. You may remember our distraught young writer from yesterday, Pine Fresh. Well, he's risen to the challenge and provided us with a smorgasboard of personal information. Kitty did have to coax a bit, but we've arrived at an intriguing profile. So sit back, enjoy, and prepare to pounce on this tasty morsel! Kitty Winn: So, give us some basic statistics. Pine Fresh: Human male. 5'8", 156 pounds. I'm a guilty white liberal. A yuppie. KW: Hobbies and interests? PF: I like art, both creating and looking at it. I enjoy going to see bands or DJs, but I don't like the club scene so much. When it's not too cold I like to just wander around the city and try to get lost in a new neighborhood. KW: Favorite food? PF: I like sushi, or spicy chinese eggplant. KW: Favorite sad movie/ favorite funny movie: PF: For sad, I think you have to go for "Happiness", and for funny I really like "The Usual Suspects." "Oswald was a fag" is such a great line. And "No, give ME the gun, you motherfucking cocksucker." KW: Favorite reading material, printed and online: PF: Books I liked: The Corrections (I know, I know), magazines I read: the New Yorker (for the articles!) and The Economist (for the cartoons!), and websites I like include boingboing.net. KW: And he also meant to add "Vomitola!" What are you listening to right now? PF: Public Enemy, "Fear of a Black Planet." KW: What makes you a good fling? PF: I'll call once or twice, and I'll get the hint if you aren't interested! KW: What makes you a good long term relationship (LTR)? PF: I listen to and respect my partner. I always make sure the other person is having as good a time as I am. KW: Come on, let's give our hopelessly immature readers a treat. PF: I have nice muscles? I smell nice? KW: Good enough. Favorite kitchen implement? PF: Tongs. KW: Nasty boy! So there you have it, gentle readers. If you are a comely lass in search of a partner in the greater Boston area, write Kitty with a summary of qualifications, and we'll see if we can make the first Vomitola.com love connection. swoon, -Kitty
Posted
3:12 PM
by Licketysplit
Road Trip Wreckage This is what you people love to see in a Blog- sleep patterns minutely charted! It was a twelve hour round trip to an opening in a mental hospital, and two days later i am still TIRED. Anyhoo, I sold a painting and who knows what else can happen? In the van we drank champagne and there was general rowdiness. After all the jokes about the opening being crawling with lunatics, there were in fact several patients present. They were easy to spot because they were INSANE. One of them cornered me to congratulate me on maintaining a semblance of a productive existence, since it was "obvious" looking at my work that I, too, am a "deeply disturbed person". I kid you not boys and girls. Well, even though I am TIRED, I suppose I ought to get back to work in the studio today. After all, there is that facade of living to promote! I must maintain the porous barrier between my present state of being and a shuffling lithium induced stupor (staves off the ranting and construction of tinfoil armies of tiny soldiers). My routine is an eggshell-like veneer concealing emptiness which requires but the slightest pressure to be crushed into gritty shards. smooch
Posted
3:19 AM
by Lambchop
February 13, 2003
Playing cupid Dear Kitty Winn, I hate valentine's day. I keep seeing fun valentiney things to do and then realize I have no plans, and even if I had a date, it wouldn't be the kind of sincere and loving date that would be worthy of the extravagant valentiney things. When I was dating someone, I hated valentines' day and was disgusted by all the extravagant gifts that the season demanded I give, and by the whole commercial insincerity of it all. I know what other singles will be doing. The really cheezy corporate-owned bars in The Alley have a singles flirt-fest where there will be incredibly drunk incredibly lonely people looking to have incredibly awful guilt-wracked fear-of-dying-alone sex with strangers. The various titty bars in town will be full of incredibly drunk, incredibly lonely guys and very distant, mildly disgusted strippers who don't quite have to think about what they're doing since they're coked out of their minds. But what can a single Boston boy do this friday? I'm a human male with a pulse. Surely someone has lowered their standards enough for me! -Pine Fresh Dear Pining, Human? Male? That's always been good enough for Kitty! I don't know what's wrong with girls these days. Or do you need a boy? You didn't specify. If it's boymeat on your mind, there's always the Ramrod (it's military gear night!), or Jacque's. If it's females you're after, I'd stake out Victoria's Secret. Look for the girl buying sexy undies. And then talk to her slightly overweight friend who's been dragged along for the ride! Or you could camp out next to florists and the Godiva store, noting who peers in longingly. Because good boyfriends have already sent flowers and candy to work by now, so chances are they're single. Finally, who says all strippers are coked out of their minds? There are plenty of nice ladies who are strippers. Of course they won't like you if you have a negative attitude like that! Judge not lest ye be judged, Kitty always says. Of course that's a rotten lie. Kitty loves to judge people! Realistically? Does it have to come to that? I'd suggest going somewhere non-date-y with a group of friends. Scorpion bowls in Chinatown can't be beat. Scamming on friends of friends is always a good bet anyway. Or I can open up the floor to readers. Provide me with some vital statistics, and maybe we can palm you off on a lucky Vomitola fan! warm-heartedly yours, -Kitty
Posted
2:11 PM
by Licketysplit
A sensitive problem for a sensitive individual Dear Kitty Winn, Attachments: right.scr, e23132zb24v[1].jpg -frillysimsATmindspring.com Dear frillysims, That was SOME question. I would have to say that obviously I don?t know you very well, but you?d probably want to talk to a doctor sooner than later. I hear there are also some good hotlines for that. You don?t want to risk life-long infertility, now do you? And good lord, think of the cosmetic ramifications! regards, -Kitty Pee Ess: Kitty is using a Mac, you can't touch her with your zany microsoft scripting, even if she DID open attachments from strangers!
Posted
1:54 PM
by Licketysplit
February 11, 2003
Author, author! I hereby enjoin Cara to publish her magnum opus, "Che es signoro Smith?" It's a rollercoaster of suspense and drama, about a polar bear who disguses himself as an Italian and kills people. Cara worries that her writing peaked in 8th grade. I say "that's ok, Orson." I regret not writing the way Cara and I used to. We spent a year of our life working on an epic called "The Possum Waffle Saga." I hope my mom still has those old Word Perfect files. That was without a GUI, just F-keys. Old School, ya hear? Anyway, TPWS was set in Broadass Creek, West Virginia. It featured Bubba and Lurleen Bippus, a common law married couple who came up with a unique food marketing idea for roadkill. They had wacky adventures with a cast of thousands, including Japanese tourists, Elvis impersonators, and even Punxsutawney Phil. Each chapter was a self-contained episode, except for one cliffhanger surrounding the groundhog. Oh, memories. I think I was 11 and she was 8. Or we might have been younger. It was a big deal to say "ass." xxoo
Posted
9:26 PM
by Licketysplit
February 10, 2003
Entertain meeeee So while Heather was off having stiff ones forced down her throat, I must have been at the movies. This weekend I saw How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. I expected a candy-coated piece of fluff, but it turned out to be all that and then some! It was entertaining to the nth degree, although don't think I'm about it review it. Overthinking violates my policy of perpetual amusement! Besides, just like there are those who clean toilets, there are people to write reviews. Like the Times [reg required]. If you liked Office Space, give this a try. Seriously. It's the same brand of retardation, with more carbonated pop. Ok, the end was sultifyingly predictable, but such is. There are less fun ways to spend an hour and a half. Speaking of peppy, a clever reader alerted me to the madcap world of Pokey the Penguin. Love it. Love Pokey. Now I've got to make tracks home through the snow so that I can adequately prepare for the final episode of Joe Millionaire. Every passing day my lust for cheap, thoughtless entertainment grows. I wonder if it's a new form of depression? Maybe it's just my patriotic duty. I used to be one of those "oh I don't have a TV" people, but no more! If I can manage to maintain a trash culture-fueled stupor, I don't have to think about the REALLY bad things going on. Sometimes if the negative does intrude, I just throw money at the problem! It's amazing. A well-timed $50 to the humane society or the foodbank really helps the pleasant fog roll back in. (Except never give to WBUR. They'll hound you every 2 months for the rest of your life. Do I LOOK like I want a tote bag? I finally pretended to be deceased.) Remember boys n' girls, thoughtful analysis is for simps! Up with boobies! xxoo
Posted
5:42 PM
by Licketysplit
Off we go! If you are ever in East Berlin, you must go to "russian disco". Its in an old east german bar, the Café Burger, that still has the low ceilings and tacky wallpaper. The music was eastern european- it was like being at a latvian wedding, complete with violins, trombones, and lots of foot stomping. I danced all night long and drinks were poured down my throat. They make a stiff one there, they do. On saturday I bloody got klezzed! the world is a malicious and awful place, even if you are only sitting in front of your computer. So if anybody gets an email from me with a funny looking attachment, do Not open it, even if it claims to be a picture of my bottom. it was sent by the devil! Tomorrow I am off early to my opening in Essen in a mini-bus. I have an entourage of seven! and I have bought cookies and juice boxes for all of them! Its a long drive, but i have much to do. I will spend the entire duration applying makeup. and playing travel connect 4. The opening should be very fun and glamorous- I am slowly mastering the art of getting drunk enough to charm people so they want to buy my work, and not so drunk that i puke on their shiny new kenneth coles. There is going to be a cocktail pianist! smooch
Posted
7:47 AM
by Lambchop
February 07, 2003
No business like showing your business Alert readers may notice that there is now an easier way to reach Kitty Winn. She's been stamping and snorting about that all along, really put out like. So if you peruse the left side bar, you'll see an Ask Kitty Winn link. Do avail yourselves of it! She's still rifling through a hatbox full of 8x10 glossies looking for the perfect author headshot (and hampered mightily by the fact that her head's not even IN most of them), but the page is a start. Yes, a real port in a storm! xxoo
Posted
6:39 PM
by Licketysplit
where have all the flowers gone? Dear Kitty Winn, I'm a reclusive media figure, and I was recently pilloried in a highly rated television documentary. Barbara Walters kept clucking and saying mean things about me, and then that fat chick who was filling in for the blonde lady on Primetime called me "funny looking!" Kitty, I am at my wit's end. Years of childhood abuse and blinding fame have rendered me a tragi-comic man-child, and at this point I lack the emotional maturity to defend myself or even see what the hell the big deal is in the first place! Kitty, how do I get these hounds off my back? -Never had a chance Dear Never, Kitty avidly watched your public flogging, pausing only to stuff more Rolos into her pie hole. Kitty's not sure why she's referring to herself in the third person either, but it seems like a train one can't jump off easily. Anyway, beleagured Never, Kitty applauds your parenting decision to raise your children out of sight. More people should do the damn same. Especially the people who shop at the Bread & Circus in Alewife. Right there, you are making a valuable contribution to society as we know it. Perhaps the next step is to apply that sensible ideal to yourself? They do wonders with burqas these days! Never again will anyone twit you about the condition of your nasal passages if they can't see 'em! Allow Kitty to suggest retiring in style, to a small bunker or other fortified structure. Think of the fun you could have in all your spare time if you didn't have to dodge the media. Why, there's the Home Shopping Channel, or one of those "construct-your-own" submarine kits! Or if all else fails, there's always voodoo, or installing a system of trap doors outside your mansion to swallow up unwanted visitors from Child Protection Services. Bon Voyage, -Kitty Winn
Posted
5:03 PM
by Licketysplit
My Life Story, by Lambchop So the Women's Art Association of Berlin is putting out a book of the self-portraits of a hundred female Berlin artists. And I have been lucky enough to get a few pages. Here is my biography as it will appear in the book, which is coming out next month-ish, followed by an english translation: Heather Morgan (1973-?) Malerin, geboren in Staten Island, New York City, ein weiteres fragwürdige Produkt der siebziger Jahre. Als Kind wollte sie Tänzerin werden, studierte sie dann jedoch Malerei in Boston University School for the Arts (B.F.A 1996) und in Yale University School of Art (M.F.A. 1999), verbrachte allerdings die meisten Zeit in verschiedenen Untergrund Musik Szenen. Sie ist ein Teil Dorothy Parker, ein Teil David Bowie. Zurückblickend auf eine lange Irische Familiengeschichte ist sie warscheinlich Wahnsinning. Das heißt, man muß sie auf jeden Fall ernst nehmen, dafür ihr aber nie glauben. Heute lebt, malt und tanzt sie in Berlin. Heather Morgan (1973-?), born in Staten Island, New York, another questionable product of the seventies. As a child she wanted to be a dancer, but instead studied painting at Boston and Yale University, spending most of her time haunting underground music scenes. Sie is part Dorothy Parker, part david Bowie. Coming from a long line of Irish folk, she is likely insane. That means she should be taken very seriously, but never believed.* Today she lives, paints, and dances in Berlin. *I just want to add for the kids at home, please don't take me seriously, either!
Posted
5:44 AM
by Lambchop
February 06, 2003
Delaware self-aware Dear Kitty Winn, I'm a bright, affable gal, and I'd like to think I have a good outlook on life. The only trouble is the incompetent dugongs who surround me, bleating and secreting their sticky juices of mediocrity. Why can't I find my peers? I don't think I really am superior to the entire rest of the rest of the world, but where, oh where, can I find my equals? Desperate in Delaware Dear Desperate Like a girl trying to lick a lolly with the wrapper still on, you are going about this all wrong. A bright little pop like yourself is doomed to be surrounded by grunting, lumpen troglodytes. You'd like to think your outlook on life is good, but you'd be wrong. Abandon all hope of being surrounded by your equals, and take pleasure in that very circumstance. Which sounds more well-adjusted to you: "Ugh, everyone in this room is practically unicellular." or "Hurrah! I am the smartest person here! May my cynical wit and wide variety of fascinating pursuits enlighten the few that scrabble after my words like so many crumbs, and let the rest be crushed in fearful pain and self doubt!" ? In other words, quit being such a Negative Nelly. Reality, like Emo, is for twerps. -Kitty Winn
Posted
7:26 PM
by Lambchop
linky dink I would be remiss in my duty as a blogateer and general observer of trashiness if I did not remind all US readers to watch the freaky Michael Jackson documentary tonight on ABC. Check local listings! I would say that beats Friends with a stick. In other news, I must publicly declare that the editors of the Miss Gothic Massachusetts Pageant web site should shit or get off the pot re: posting an update. People want answers. And finally, for your Daily Show-like moment of zen, you should check out Item #530 over at 665. xxoo
Posted
5:00 PM
by Licketysplit
A broth of a different color! One of the best parts of my day as an underling for an international soup concern has got to be dealing with the foreign language stuff. Today I had to swap out a picture of a can of soup for...a new can of soup. All the writing is Japanese, and it's a brimming bowl of yellow liquid. I started tittering at the possibilities. Let's play "What's! In! The Can!" shall we? Could it be...Cream of Dog? Tincture of Eel? Extract of Cock? Or, as my office pal suggested, that old standby, Rat Oil. Mmmm! You'd think there would be exotic products like that, but actually it's just boring shit like clam chowder and chicken noodle. Ho hum. So much for diversity. I guess I could link to the humorous foreign soup pages, but I'd probably get "canned." Ahahahahaha. Then how would I pay for my drugs? Yes, Heather, work is a funny thing. You used to make fun of me for wearing sneakers with my suit, but once you tried it you admitted there was no going back. The world of banking was not for me....I could write a novella out of my failed careers. Soda Jerk, Grease Monkey, Exotic Dancer, Roustabout. I really lost the love for the hot $9/hr world of bank tellering when I realized you are behind glass not so much because of the threat of robbery, but because people spit at you! Sample Workaday Dialogue: Me: How may I help you today? Disgruntled Vagrant: I wanna take out all my money Me: Account number please, and I'll need 2 forms of ID. DV: ARGHRRRPHHMMMPHPHHH! Cunt! Whore! I can't tell you what was in the briefcase. But just the other day I saw a guy handcuffed to a Louis Vuitton monogrammed case. In the checkout line at Stop n' Shop. I wouldn't fool about something that weird. xxoo
Posted
1:12 PM
by Licketysplit
rocks and hard places Today I have to go to the bank and the dentist. I can't decide which is worse. Having teeth drilled can actually be less painful than sitting in a cloud of imitation Givenchy and watching those horrible french manicure press-on nails clacking over the keyboard, and tapping on the desk and that becoiffed gold braceleted nightmare still has no idea how to do electronic transfers to the united states. My stomach acid increases just thinking about it. Anyway, I was just at the dentist 10 days ago- she only wants to see me again because she likes me. We sit around and talk about how fine it is to be great looking, we talk about the scene in Marathon Man, she looks at my mouth, admires her handiwork and lets me take a bunch of the shiny metal gumball machine rings that she gives to the kiddies. Licketysplit used to be a bank teller! I remember well the days when she was darting off to copley in a peach colored suit and gold earrings. She would pass me by as i spent my filthy unemployed hours on the slab on newbury street, sipping iced coffee and waiting for something to happen. She would pop by afterwards and regale us with tales of incompetence that made stuffing the mattress with cash seem like sensible financial planning. Say, Lickety, what was in that suitcase anyway?! smooch
Posted
5:40 AM
by Lambchop
February 05, 2003
Heartbreak and Halitosis Dear Kitty Winn: I was sitting home alone worrying last night, wondering what to do, when it occurred to me that what I needed was help from a purveyor of tawdry advice. After all, I have a terribly tawdry problem. I can't seem to get over my ex-girlfriend. I'm beginning to annoy my friends, and even my therapist, by talking about her constantly. I've tried the usual techniques -- moving to another town, drinking heavily, sleeping around like a two-bit whore-- but none of them work. It just feels like additional betrayal: I'm not staying true to the girl I love, and the rebound girl knows what's going on because I call out the wrong names. I just can't achieve, how you say, release, without thinking of my lost love and the taste of her sweet, sweet anus. What can I do to get her off my mind? Also, can you recommend any good breath mints? --- Darren Hungus Darren Hungus, I feel for you. I have been consumed with giving your problem the proper attention. It was hardly off my mind while I was watching a 60's go-go film and having a Charleston Chew. You pose a difficult question, but without a doubt, use Fisherman's Friend to expunge the foulness of your mouth. Those babies pack a wallop! Oh right, and your ex-girlfriend...clearly you have let the girl of your dreams slip through your fingers and will never ever be happy again ever. Never ever. You could endeavor to be satisfied with your lot, but Kitty Winn believes in setting things right! You don't have a shred of existence without this woman, so you must dedicate your life to having her back. Write her, call her, lurk beneath her window- don't let the girl have five seconds in which thoughts of you do not intrude. Give her no rest from professions of your unabated love! Praise her back door beauty! Erect a shanty in front of her door, where you live, unshaven, eating little snack foods and denied fresh air solely for a daily glimpse of her angry face in passing. No woman can resist such romantic heroism- you will be plumming her annals and hating her stupid laugh again in no time! Good Luck, Kitty Winn
Posted
2:21 PM
by Lambchop
What's a gal to do? Dear Kitty Winn, I have not been involved with anyone for a looong time. Before I saddle up and head out again, I wanted to know what sort of girls are "In" these days? Sluts? Power Vixens who talk about the books they read? Cute-n-Dumb? Or maybe Innocent Virtue is back? Please clue me in so I don't have to waste any time "having opinions" when I ought to be pretending I don't want sex so I can have some. Thanks! -liza jane Dear Liza Jane, I'll tell you what's in: eating disorders! Hoo, had you there, didn't I? Don't fret, my gauche gamine, we'll have you up and humping in no time, and nary a drip drop of yesterday's lunch need cross your lips. You see, the secret to love is to have an alter ego. It's kind of like becoming a super hero. First you need a name, then a costume, then some press coverage, preferably in the form of a slavish internet fan site. I will even give you some ideas for free: Lurid Crimson, Cyan Chlamydia, Lulabelle the Liberated Librarian. Soon the young dandies will come flocking to you, drawn in by the many pictures of your painted pout! The more wigs you wear in your photo shoot the better. Really, you have nothing to lose. It's not like you're that much to look at in person anyway! knock 'em dead, Kitty Winn
Posted
2:06 PM
by Licketysplit
Sit right back and you'll hear a tale... Yes, dear readers, a tale of depravity, rapine, and even VOMITOLA.... I will begin by noting that I am in an upright position today, and rather puffed up with pride about the whole affair. You see, boys and girls, I had what is known in the business as a "sinus and middle ear infection." That means my head was filled with a noxious goop from stem to stern, and my doctor had a moment of mirth making me try to move my eyes to follow her little light pointer (I turned green and could not oblige, as a simple head moment could have spelled spontaneous spillage!). So the upshot is that I have a variety of medical miracles at my disposal. I was bucking for an MRI, but I seem to have netted some antibiotics and some anti-nausea stuff which works great except that it puts me to sleep within minutes. So I should have another ten minute window here, do pardon me if I trail off! And I must say, who knew that 2 days off from work could be so interminably boring? Actually I also left early on Monday as I started dry heaving everytime I looked at the screen. I felt really bad about leaving too, because people had to do some work I was trying to finish. Anyway, I walked home through the Public Garden in kind of a zig-zag pattern. There weren't any cabs in sight, and I figured barfing in the garden would be nothing new for me, so why despoil the T? I made it all the way up to Louisburg Square. I don't know how familiar anyone is with that area of Beacon Hill, but it's sort of a really lame answer to Gramercy Park. There's about a 30 square foot area of fenced in trees and grass, and some plum parking spots. Only people who live in the nice houses right there may touch the fancy foliage. So of course that's where the dry heaves took me over! After that, I teetered back to my house. At least I didn't get arrested for holding onto the wrought iron PRIVATE fence. An attractive older British fellow asked if I was OK. I wanted to assert that I was not simply a drunken prostitute (a - I was not carrying an umbrella b - we were nowhere NEAR the docks)...but all I could do was mumble something like "mrphhh yeah...." At any rate, I return triumphantly, er, sort of. At least the room stopped spinning! I think my dr. was disappointed I didn't have menningitis or something sexier. Thanks to Heather for brilliantly holding down the fort in my infirmity. Maybe I should give her Power of Attorney too! Although she'd probably just sign me up for a bunch of magazine subscriptions or government studies. Also, I exhort you all to make use of the services of Kitty Winn! She's a firecracker, she's a pistol, she's a former Miss Omaha. As you can see, her advice is top-drawer, just like her rack. xxoo
Posted
10:48 AM
by Licketysplit
party baby yum These last few weeks have been a serial hangover. Well, what else is there to do but get drunk after going to see a mike leigh film in which you identify with the besotted strumpet? that mike leigh is the cat's pajamas. when i was a young slattern of 14 in jersey city, i used to hang out on the corner in painfully tight jeans playing handball with delivery boys from the butcher shop. they were cute in their bloodstained aprons. I hope everyone who was sick yesterday is better today. smooch
Posted
6:46 AM
by Lambchop
February 04, 2003
Fabulous Golden Issue Dear Kitty Winn, I am home sick. The doctor said to drink lots of fluids. But I am getting so tired of my soup recipes. Miso soup, alphabet, broth. ugh! While they are making me feel a little better I think i will vomitola if I look at another hot and sour. Can you recommend a new recipe for me, Miss Kitty Winn?? Please keep in mind I would prefer something vegetarian, and something without miso. Love, Sick in So Dear Sick My Doctor always recommends the consumption of clear and simple foodstuffs when i am ill- so I opt for things like jell-o and vodka, preferably together, followed by a healthy dose of Manchowder. You will be surprised at how soothing to all parties a good release into your larynx of joy juice can be. It beats a Werthers Original. So take it easy and rest upon your knees. I leave it to you to decide whether accepting a man's fabulous golden issue is a violation of your vegetarian ethics or not. I suppose it depends on how attractive he is. get well soon, Kitty Winn
Posted
9:43 PM
by Lambchop
February 03, 2003
Ask Kitty Winn! Your lives are terrible. You're lonely, you're poor, and your hair is doing terrible things. Fret not, Kitty Winn has the answers! Dear Kitty Winn, I've recently inherited a sum of money. It's not enough to spend the rest of my days drinking champagne from the navels of painted whores or nothing, but it's enough for either some short term stupidity or a stab at fiscal responsibility. So I ask you, should I give in to my base urges and blow it all on penny whistles and moon pies, or do I save for a (boring) rainy day? Yes, the economy is uncertain, but the native boys aren't getting any younger! Love, -feckless in rhode island Dear Feckless, You are overlooking the obvious. You can do something fun that will also ensure you a lucrative future- Breast Implants! There is nothing like a little unnecessary surgery to provide a girl with frivolous joy. And think of all the fun and career opportunites you will have with a great swinging set of hooters! Yes, fabulous breasts will line your pockets with cash and keep you knee deep in casual sex. Go for the whompin' 'taters! -Kitty Winn
Posted
5:46 PM
by Lambchop
Pin the tail on the Continent The prodigal lambchop has ants in the pants. I used to have that game, springing the colored plastic bits into the blue bucket overalls. Now there's a way to spur the imagination of a young girl! Between that and my Cooties set, I was braced for My First STDs by the age of 9. Anyway, what does that have to do with anything? Absolutely nothing! What I really mean is I am ready to blow this pop stand. Pack up the makeup case and the bunny and pull up anchor. Lickety, I can count on you to slaughter the fattened calf! and some of those little finger sandwiches you like so much. Alright stick a pin in that little thought balloon- I have to get some work done. But to all of those who attended the candlight vigil beneath the window of Lickety's sick chamber, I thank you. And it is my pleasure to announce to all in that she has not only NOT died, but we managed to save the leg as well! Thank the stars for our friends and consumers of detritus, the maggots! You should have seen hope alight in our young patient's face as we packed the wound with larvae and watched them munch their way through the poisoners of her flesh. smooch
Posted
12:59 PM
by Lambchop
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