RoadTrip Fever!

Dear Blob!
Who are these talentless, time-wasting, horse-faced whores from "The Hills"? and when will they cease gracing the covers of my US Weekly magazines? I much prefer to learn about Brangelina, Kate Hudson's latest lovers, and other sordid sagas of real celebrities. The tacky, rather ugly girls from "The Hills" do not hold the appeal of Jennifer Aniston's rocky, but juicy, love-life or the ongoing drama of good old Brittney and Jamie Lyn and newly-lesbian Lindsey Lohan! You go Lindsey!

In other news, I just spent 11 days on a cross-country roadtrip with True Love (TR), from Georgia to Laland. Highlights included humid Southern-artists wedding in rural Alabama, which had superlative wedding barbecue and all-you-can-eat-shuck-your-own-oysters, an unheard of luxury
on the west coast, but apparently food-of-the-people, in the South. On the way to the Alabama wedding, TR and I stopped for gas and upon purchasing, I inquired of the salesclerk, "What town are we in?" and she replied, "Alabama." Again I said, "Yes, but what town?" "Alabama." "I know, but what town is this?" "Oh. Selma."

TR and I quested for the folk-art grocery-church in Vicksburg, Mississippi, and came upon a rainbow-painted cinder-block, mardi-gras-beaded, ramshackle extravaganza, which resembled Lady Elaine of Mr. Roger's Neighborhood's, house. Reverend Herman and his wife, Margaret, the very black and very quirky 93-year-old host and hostess , sat on the porch and were thrilled to have visitors. Reverend Herman built the folk-art grocery-church for Margaret and repeated the same 3 phrases throughout our visit: 1. You can leave a donation, but you don't have too! 2. Don't drink or gamble and bring all your money home to your wife, who is your angel! 3. Take pictures of my church I built! It was surrealism in action. No need for The Ukulady to go to Burning Man - magical adventures and surrealism are everywhere.

TR and I hit the Carlsbad Caverns, which are a Must-See for anyone interested in beauty; the Grand Canyon, another beauty Must-See; a ridiculously windy Mojave desert, complete with 3 inch white spiders.

I was surprised that Louisiana is seemingly all-swamp and Mississippi is full of magnolia trees. Texas is huge and apparently smoking is still legal, in eateries. In San Antonio, New Mexico, we came upon the 7th Best Burger in America, at a tiny hole-in-the-wall called The Buckhorn. GQ magazine had somehow stumbled upon the blink-and-miss-it town, and sure enough, the green chile burger was awesome.

No roadtrip can be summed up in a mere blog/b, but I wanted to alert you, oh Blob, and readers, as to my slacker whereabouts lately.
Love The Ukulady
ps: TR and I invented a great game called Mississippi Go! The goal is to spell Mississippi the fastest. Player 1 begins, spelling Mississippi as fast as he/she can and when finished spelling, he/she shouts, "Go!" and Player 2 spells as fast as possible and shouts Go! and onwards until neither player is capable of spelling Mississippi anymore. Good Times.

pps: We tried to go to a pie shack in Natchez, Mississippi, called Mammy's Cupboard, which is a huge black mammy-shaped building, with what Roadfood.com said has the best banana caramel pie ever. To our enormous disappointment, by the time we got to Mammy's cupboard, indeed a scarf-headed, tray-laden, black-lady-shaped building with the front door in her huge pink skirt, Mammy's cupboard was closed.

Blob O' the Business Trabler...

Dear Blob!
Greetings from the Hotel Sofitel, where I am once again, a business traveler and thankfully, employed! This, the third week after Brittney Spears’s unfortunate un-comeback on the VMA awards, I am headed into my fifth year of being the voice of Electronic Art’s Teenage girl Sim on The Sims 2 videogames. Today’s first day back on the EA campus was a mini-reunion, catching up with who’s had a baby, who’s band has finally and regrettably, stopped playing together and how long this ridiculously awesome job is going to last. The bad news is EA is considering not hiring any of the Sims 2 talent back for Sims 3. The good news is maybe we have a year left being Sims. Alas, nothing is constant but change. In fact, the Hotel Sofitel changed their complimentary moisturizer and chocolates, The new free accessories are sadly inferior to the moisturizer of yesteryear. They also ceased free wireless internet, which irks me like BrittneySpear’s is probably irked by the endless pestering of Child Protective Services. If I were paying for the Sofitel, I would not spend my hard-earned EA cash on their overpriced fees, but would find a quaint Peninsula B&B with free internet and a spa bathtub. I often wonder what the khaki-panted, polo-shirted business travelers, who frequent the Sofitel bar, think of me; ukulele in hand, pink thrift-cheer skirt, striped knee-socks, strumming about cametoe, reclining poolside at sunset….(see www.TheUkuLady .com songlist song “Camel & Moose”, written by the Sofitel pool last spring). Those are the moments I know I am blessed and all is well, no matter what changes the universe will bring. Voice over accounts come and go, as my mentor, Susan, former voice of Albertson’s Supermarkets, says. If only Brittney would share some of the 784,000 a month she earns, with The UkuLady….. For all the Sims fans out there, the latest Sims expansion packs will include exciting activities, such as tree-climbing, fruit-eating and simian-mimicry….. Squibbly Va Porklaj!
Love The UkuLady

Brittney's Comeback &Mary Kate in my dreams...

Dear Blob,
I dreamt a boy I have a crush on dissed me for Mary Kate Olsen. I was pissed in the dream, but pleased when I awoke, that my nightmares are no longer about the house I live in (see www.TheUkuLady.com Song O'The Week "The Neighbor Song").
In other news, The Brittney Spears "comeback" was amazingly bad. She was such a hot child, a pedophilia posterchild, but as an adult, she is not only Not Hot, but extremely unremarkable in every way. Brittney's backup dancers consistently outshine her remedial "Dance for Beginners" moves - a couple tummy swirls thrown in between step, step, touch. In addition to her pathetic dancing, nasal, whiny, barely sexy and truly awful new single, Brittney didn't look like she was having any fun. She's fantastic tabloid fodder and for that I applaud her.
UkuLady Letter to Brittney:
Dear Brittney, please stick to what you're good at: getting knocked up, drunk and investigated by Child Protective Services! I love it when you flash your cooter, drive with your babies on your panty-free lap and smash cars with umbrellas! Love The UkuLady

I Heart Yoga!

Lindsay VS. Iraq

Dear Blog,
I like to drink my strong-imported-from-San-Francisco-french-pressed-coffee and read the morning news made out of paper. This morning I discovered that these days I care very little about the latest bullshit from Bush, Baghdad and Barack. What compels me is the front-page news of Lindsay Lohan's cocaine 'n' alcohol Memorial Day weekend binge. I scan the Iraq Casualty/Hillary Clinton headlines, but read the entire article about Lindsay Lohan's fuck-ups. And I love it. I want more from Lindsay. I want Lindsay to wrinkle early, to burn visible cocaine holes in her face, to get fat. This is front-page news in America. I don't want to be sad and frustrated that poor kids who want to go to college on the GI bill are being killed along with thousands of darkies in the Cradle of Civilization. I want to feel good about myself. And knowing that Lindsay, Paris & Brittney appear to be empty vessels of insecurity, self-loathing and saddness, makes me feel good about myself!
Love The UkuLady
PS: I'm also compelled by the Food section. I like it when the restaurant critics hate. I like the expensive fussy-food restaurants to be ripped apart and the cheap taco trucks & pie shacks, celebrated.
PPS: Unfortunately Lindsay's latest debacle will only earn her more money as no publicity is bad publicity. If only she'd give some of her endorsement cash to the homeless junkies who can't afford the outrageously-priced rehabs; instead she purchases thousand-dollar tee-shirts to wear with No Underwear.
PPS: I just called Promises Rehab Center and they refused to tell me how much they charge per day. And their website does not offer that information. If you have to ask, you can't afford it.
PPPS: I feel like a real Beat Reporter doing actual blog-research to give my readers the price of Lindsay's rehab center! I feel smugly self-satistfied, pleased with my brief foray into real fact-finding.
PPPPS: I'll continue the rehab-price-research, but not right now.

Banned from Canters!

Dear Blog,
The UkuLady has been Banned from Canters! I showed up for my final show on Tuesday, to the news that a Canter's patron called to complain that The UkuLady is Too Loud and Terribly Offensive. Someone hated me so much that they actually took time out of their day to use the telephone to bitch. Perhaps The Offended hadn't slept well that night with queries such as "Who Can we Hate Now that Saddam is dead?" and visions of Brittney Spear's cooter-meat being strapped into her panties-TheUkuLady-will-show-her-how-to-put-on, haunting his pastrami-digesting dreams That's awesome! Someone's meatwich was ruined by a diminutive cultural-Heeb playing ukulele! That's Power! Maybe as The Offended was biting into his 'wich, the pastrami swelled into view, a bright cooter-red, as I simultaneously sang the word Vagina or Fuck; although after my second censorship warning, I really curbed the Fucks, replacing it with Fuhh.... or F'ed.
My initial thought was Paris Hilton had been at Canter's and heard my new song about going to jail together and I got really excited. But I don't think Paris eats solid food.
So the news of no show was jarring, as I had a crew of supporters coming to the Kibitz Room to hear me play. Ultimately I used my adorability and Emerson College Interpersonal Communication skills and talked Bea into letting The UkuLady play her final show. I told her I would be really quiet and not say fuck or vagina. I tried, but towards the end of my set I just couldn't hold back and as I knew I wouldn't be returning anyway, I played Jenna Bush, the first censured UkuLady song and closed the show with a rousing "We're Taking Ecstacy on Sunday; Instead of Worshipping the Patriarchal God, We'll Have Oral Sex In Bed." I was a huge hit. People loved me. And probably some hated me. Good Times.
Love The UkuLady
PS: I've renamed my legs my Walking Arms.
PPS: The UkuLady is floored by the stupidity and blindness of the peeps who built and wholeheartedly believe in The Creationism Museum, where children are being taught that humans and dinosaurs co-existed.

UkuLady & Jefbot!

Poor Paris Vlog!

Brittney & Paris, SlutWhors

Dear Blog,
The front page to the LA Times this morning featured a color picture of Paris Hilton and the headline, Paris Goes to Jail! I added the exclamation point! Blog and Readiers, I hope that whore gets prisonrapef***ed up the ass with a steel pipe. Seriously. I really kind of hope that happens to Paris Hilton in the Lynwood jail, where she will spend 45 days for drunk driving around LA for the third time. Perhaps it's awful and mean of me to wish such violence on another human being, but I so greatly dislike Paris and sickly, it would bring me joy to see her feel pain.
In other news, Brittney is doing secret Brittney shows at House Of Blueses around the globe. How boring. Do something interesting, Brittney, like get knocked up again by someone really repulsive or scandalous or do something self-destructive and summon Child Protective Services to your Malibu mansion again . Performing is boring. I hope Brittney and Paris release a lesbian sex tape.
Meanwhile, the UkuLady is back in LA, navigating traffic caused by drunked celebrities in beemers and illegal immigrants in mini-vans.
Love The UkuLady
PS: I'm so jetlagged nothing is very funny, so apologies for a somewhat boring blog. Sims session comedy-notes coming soon!

Brittney's New Website

Dear Blog,
I rarely have time to "surf" the internet, however yesterday, I found myself in the recording studio watching my producer mix and edit a UkuLady album track. It was kind of ackward sitting there, in the funsies rolling chair, watching him work, so I decided to do a little detective work online and see what Brittney has been up to lately. I've visited her official website before, which is where I learned of the launch of her perfume line, distressingly named, "In Control" (see www.TheUkuLady.com song page song called "Brittney's New Fragrance").
Her pre-rehab website featured pastel colors and a magical animated fairy blowing bubbles. Well Blog, there has been a major shift in Brittney's online marketing campaign. Her post-rehab website home page features a scantily-clad Spears, splayed out in a Come-Fuck-Me-But-First-You-Have-To-Unpeel-The-Tiny-Extremely-Low-Cut-Shorts-I'm-Barely-Wearing. Beside her whore-photo, are animated rotating "Dear Brittney" letters from fans. These rotating letters say things like, "Heal Brittney!" Tammi, Nebraska and "You are an extremely talented young woman and don't let anyone tell you otherwise!" Shep, Manitoba, Canada.
She's really good at doing a pouty child-like-pucker-fuck-me facial expression.
I'm glad I'm not her nanny, child or lover. She seems really high maintenence.
Love The UkuLady
PS: I also went to Lindsey Lohan's website, which also blends the popular Child-Whore image, featuring baby-pink heartsies and fucking hot pictures of Lindsey. She is totally sexy and hot. Brittney, not so much.
PPS: Hypocrisy Thrives! I'm referring to the worldwide epidemic of pedophilia, child-porn and the repulsive sexualization of children. Hellosies? How about not whoring out children? (see www.TheUkuLady.com songpage song "Poor Brittney") That will probably aid in the decline of the rampant epidemic which troubles me to repeat-the-nouns in writing.
If you're going to be a whore, admit it! Own it! Commit to it! Don't pretend you are a non-whore! Be a whore! But be a grown-up whore and lose the child-like fuck-me-pout.
PPPS: As my Best-Gay-Friend-In-Chicago says, regarding tummies, "Own The Roll!"

Brittney & Bangelore

Dear Blog,
Poor Brittney! Not only is her offical website still under construction, but one can only imagine the pain and self-loathing she must be feeling as she makes her way through various rehabs, San Fernando tattoo parlors and K-Fed's driveway. She is so interestingly self-destructive! Jenna Bush is nothing compared to Britsies! I'm a little disappointed that there's been no new Brit news since last week, but I suppose I'll have to distract myself with a growing dislike of being phone-routed to India when I need the help of a native English speaker, preferably accentless.
I never thought I'd find myself in need of a red-blooded American, but dealing with Electronic Art's tax bullshit is turning me into a bit of a racist. Perhaps racist is too strong a word. I simply want to speak with someone familiar with American tax forms, rules and regulations who I don't have to ask to repeatedly repeat themselves because I can't decipher his accent. I'm pleased that the bright young Indians fluent in English have good jobs at the phone centers of Bangelore, but all I want is to speak to an American employee of Electronic Arts.
Meanwhile, Brittney is another classic example of a child star gone wrong. Here's an idea: Crazy Stage-Parents, don't whore your child out! Of course Brittney is losing her shit - she was dressed in sexypot outfits and not only applauded for being a sexy 11 year old, but her repulsive mother pushed her to national fame, capitalizing on western society's sick sexualization of children. Hey Mrs. Spears, you think there's a correlation between the rampant pedophilia problem and young Brittney whoring it up in her hot "Oops I did It Again" video? Target offers thong panties for five year olds. I'm considering setting up camp, like Cindy Sheehan, in front of Promises, the Malibu rehab center, so when Brittney comes out, I can help her! I can show her how to put on her adult thong-panties and strap her 2 babies into their carseats. And I'll take her to yoga with me, where she'll develop a healthy inner-body-bright. Poor Brittney.
Love The UkuLady

PS to last blog re: Brittney

Dear Blog and mymyspace friends,
here's my new brittney joke, in regards to my last blog about her new fragrance,m In Control: Brittney's so Out of Control that her vagina just got a DUI.
Say it out loud.
Love The UkuLady