Dirty Old Prom Queen

In '98 I was the prom queen and in '06 I hang out with queens. I'm a private tutor during the day and a comedian at night in ol' NYC. I just can't seem to get out of high school...can someone call the custodian? Vesuvio, I'm locked in!

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Good Luck on Halloween Costumes, guys!

Hey everyone! Good luck on coming up with a really good costume this year. Here's to finding an outfit that's relevant but not cliche; hip but not pretentious; scary but not disgusting. Ladies, I sincerely hope that you find something that shows off your figure, while not making you seem like a trailer park whore. And gents, let's do something masculine, but also HILARIOUS, so that everyone can say, "Oh that Steve is so fucking awesome!" But hey, let's not forget to make sure that our costumes fulfill these necessary components:

1) That they keep us warm on this chilly holiday. This is a big problem for the sluts.
2) That they are machine washable.
3) That they don't hinder us from making out with another drunken person in costume.
4) That there is a way to go to the bathroom
5) That they don't offend minorities.

Love you all. Happy Halloween!!!

Thursday, October 19, 2006


Moment of the day:

On one of my unnecessarily long and firing-worthy lunches, my good friend and frequent lover, Mike, and I sit down for delicious sandwiches at a local joint, when all of a sudden a coked up pigeon comes flying into the restaurant, flaps around, and then hides behind me. He becomes stuck between my banquette and the window.

A local tree hugger, though, luckily was ready with broom in hand to lead the pigeon back to the outdoors. She tried and failed and tried and failed and the pigeon stayed stuck. But outside, help was walking down the street in a pair of well-worn clogs. A small hispanic woman came in and asked, "Can I help you?" The tree hugger replied, "No, I think we've got it (back to the pigeon) Okay, honey, come on out. Mama's got you."

Then, straight out of Dr. Doolittle the Hispanic mystery woman reaches between the banquette and window and grabs the flapping bird with one hand and throws it out of the FRONT DOOR. And then she disappeared into the baby strollers of Park Slope, never to be seen again. I was so stunned that I barely was able to order my giant rice krispy treat. Heroes, there all around us.

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

Dream Ruined

Every girl gets only a handful of romantic comedy moments in her little life and I just royally fucked up one of the few that I was given. Picture this:

It's pouring out, you're standing in the subway contemplating how to get home, because you forgot your umbrella. Your only option is to run for it. The wind and rain sting your face as you leap out of the subway entrance. Your flowy skirt clings to your firm, nubile body. You yell because you feel free, you feel like a woman, and you are getting some much-needed exercise. All of a sudden, a young man runs along side of you and puts an umbrella over your drenched little head.

What do you do?

Clearly, you smile sheepishly and thank him through your embarrassed yet charming and feminine giggles. You lightly brush the soaked strands of hair away from your forehead. And then you ask your hero his name. Where does he live? Does he want to come in for a hot chocolate?

What did I do?

I initially trip over my own feet, because I think I am being attacked and I have a hard time stopping running once I have started. I say "thank you" through a lot of wheezing (I ran only 5 steps, but have not been to the gym since summer). And then...silence...and more silence...and a lot of awkward glances.... And then I say "you know, I can make it from here" and I retardedly walk into a puddle and run a block home. I might have peed a little bit on myself.

And then, it was gone. My romantic comedy moment turned into diarrhea before my eyes.

Friday, October 06, 2006


Hey guys. So, today I received my very first REALLY nasty comment. Not on my blog, but on the Best Week Ever blog, where I have been doing some Best Night Ever podcasts. Anywho, people are entitled to their opinion and I have to have a thick skin to be in this business. But please take a look and decide for yourselves if she was being too harsh. Also, I couldn't resist defending myself in the cutest way.

Also, you should all know that I am draped in fur from head to toe right now, because I am too weak to remove the air conditioner from my window and it is freezing.

Tuesday, October 03, 2006

Anyone There?

My cell phone is slightly broken. It no longer tells me whether or not I have a new voicemail message. It does tell me if I have a missed call. And it still rings when someone is calling. And my alarm is fine. And you can still read all of the names of the people like Buzz and Party in my address book. And if you wanted to call them, you could.

But if someone calls me, and they leave a message, I might not know about it. Because my phone no longer tells me that I have new voicemail messages. Quick question: is this a good enough reason to trade in my phone for a new one? Or should I stop using phones altogether?