Dear Blob -
The Republican pick for VP, Sarah Palin, upon researching, just gets more ridiculous, depressing, outrageous, hilarious and unbelievable. Whether it's questioning the sanity of a Mother who names her children Bristol, Track and Trig - unbelievably ugly and stupid names - (yes this coming from Thessaly) - but Bristol? I think of Bristol Squibb, which makes me think of squid, which is not an attractive name for an unwed teen mother; or the photo of Sarah Palin proudly squatting over a dead bloody moose, hot red blood steaming, soaking into icy white snow; or perhaps the youtube news footage of the former Miss Alaska Runner-Up caught lying, abusing her power and simultaneously mentioning Bootlegging as a serious issue her administration will tackle - Bootlegging? How about the rampant & famous Alaska Alcoholism or an issue close to her, Teen Pregnancy? And there's so much to question about a woman-in-labor, who breaks her water, but opts to give a political speech and then get on an 8 hour flight, instead of going to a birthing center or hospital - An 8 hour airplane ride in labor?! Is she an Aliencreature? And she's open to Creationism being taught in schools. I wonder if Bristol and Track had saddled-dinosaurs as playtoys.... I'm more frightened though, by the Supporters of this insane, Dark-Side "woman". And the ridiculous topper is her dinosaur-riding knocked-up 17-year-old daughter! So much for W's Abstinence Program. Good times! Us Pagans use condoms or go to Planned Parenthood. I feel sorry for Hillary, spending her life trying to become the first high-officed lady, only to give away the potential-office to someone who's only commonality, is her Vagina - if Sarah Palin even has a vagina. Because robots don't need cooters and she might be a Robot-of-the-Dark-Side. As a geniune vagina-having human, I cringe at the potential political representative of our gender. In addition, what kind of mother leaves her retarded infant at 4 months, to work the campaign-trail? Yes, I used the term Retarded and it feels good. It also feels good to declare Sarah Palin a MILF. I don't want to fuck her, but I'm sure many people will. She resembles a naughty secretary, with her windblown upswept hair, tendrils askew, sexy-office-bodice waiting to be ripped open, made love to atop her dead bloody moose, NRA-issued rifle in hand...I can't wait for the x-rated internet buzz on her!
Love The Ukulady
ps: Sarah Palin is almost too much comedy material to handle. I'm overwhelmed! What to make fun of first?
Showing posts with label Vaginas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Vaginas. Show all posts
Monday, September 1, 2008
Friday, June 20, 2008
Jamie Lynn Spears and Vaginas!
Dear Blob,
Jamie Lynn Spears, 17 year old sister to Britney, has given birth via scheduled C-Section. Her teen vagina is still firm, tight, but not so fresh and virginal as a Christian-valued community member, would prefer. And while we're discussing tight vajees, my manager, who is tight in the Hollywood community, informed me that the renown plastic surgeon to the stars does at least 3 vajee rejuvs a day. I suppose the surgeon gathers the celebrity vajee flaps into a bouquet of sorts, and perhaps uses a tourniquet, then clips the pleats of vagina, trimming the pleats into a non-plural pleat, leaving 2 or 3 vagina folds, which, when un-tourniquetted, reveals a super-tight vagina, the skin shiny from it's vajee-lip-face-lift, like Joan River's shiny sheen-of-a-face.
In other, but related news, Cindy McCain terrifies me. She is so face-lifted-scary. I admire John McCain for living in a tiger cage in Vietnam for 5 years, but he resembles a shriveled testicle and is a puppet-of-the-Dark-Side. I love Barack and Michelle and if (Crossies!) he becomes the president of our pathetic and crumbled country, it will be an amazing and wonderful day.
Love The Ukulady
ps: Unfortunately love is bad for summer bikini-bodies. My winter of making-out and eating sweets has destroyed 2 years of dilligent LA-driven body-fat-minimalzation work. Being less than 5 feet is handy when I need to dash through crowds, but is a bummer when one cookie adds a bra-size. Cookies and the pill.
pps: I'd rather be fat than worried about getting knocked-up, like Jamie Lynn. I hope the irresponsible slut goes on the pill.
Jamie Lynn Spears, 17 year old sister to Britney, has given birth via scheduled C-Section. Her teen vagina is still firm, tight, but not so fresh and virginal as a Christian-valued community member, would prefer. And while we're discussing tight vajees, my manager, who is tight in the Hollywood community, informed me that the renown plastic surgeon to the stars does at least 3 vajee rejuvs a day. I suppose the surgeon gathers the celebrity vajee flaps into a bouquet of sorts, and perhaps uses a tourniquet, then clips the pleats of vagina, trimming the pleats into a non-plural pleat, leaving 2 or 3 vagina folds, which, when un-tourniquetted, reveals a super-tight vagina, the skin shiny from it's vajee-lip-face-lift, like Joan River's shiny sheen-of-a-face.
In other, but related news, Cindy McCain terrifies me. She is so face-lifted-scary. I admire John McCain for living in a tiger cage in Vietnam for 5 years, but he resembles a shriveled testicle and is a puppet-of-the-Dark-Side. I love Barack and Michelle and if (Crossies!) he becomes the president of our pathetic and crumbled country, it will be an amazing and wonderful day.
Love The Ukulady
ps: Unfortunately love is bad for summer bikini-bodies. My winter of making-out and eating sweets has destroyed 2 years of dilligent LA-driven body-fat-minimalzation work. Being less than 5 feet is handy when I need to dash through crowds, but is a bummer when one cookie adds a bra-size. Cookies and the pill.
pps: I'd rather be fat than worried about getting knocked-up, like Jamie Lynn. I hope the irresponsible slut goes on the pill.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Jenna's Engagement!!!
Dear Blob!
Exciting news! My myspace friend, Jenna Bush, is engaged to be married! While this news was reported in the LA Times and other publications, she hasn't sent out an announcement to her myspace friends yet. She's probably been too busy with the challenges of her job! Jenna and her mom, Laura Bush, are co-writing a children's book! They are such role models for mothers and daughters everywhere! I really admire their dedication to American children's literacy! Hopefully they will extend that dedication to the global youth village and write something uplifting and charmingly witty, for the kids of Iraq.
Meanwhile, I'm crossing my UkuLady fingers that You Know Who will be asked to be in the wedding party, or maybe write a special love song for Jenna's special day.... I'll write her a special What-To-Expect-When-You-Lose-Your-Virginity song, as we all know Jenna is an upstanding young Right-Wing Christian and if there's one thing that's important to the Evangelicals, it's an unmarred vagina marching down the aisle. Hopefully her fiance isn't like all the Right-Wing Christian Senators who've recently been caught molesting boys and soliciting gay sex in men's restrooms. As Jenna's myspace friend, I am protective over her and wouldn't want her to catch an STD on her special virginity-losing-wedding night!
Love The UkuLady
PS: I saw a yarn store in Chatsworth today called Hooker's Haven. Chatsworth, is apparently the porn capital of the world.
PPS: Pumice & Hummus - twinsies!
Exciting news! My myspace friend, Jenna Bush, is engaged to be married! While this news was reported in the LA Times and other publications, she hasn't sent out an announcement to her myspace friends yet. She's probably been too busy with the challenges of her job! Jenna and her mom, Laura Bush, are co-writing a children's book! They are such role models for mothers and daughters everywhere! I really admire their dedication to American children's literacy! Hopefully they will extend that dedication to the global youth village and write something uplifting and charmingly witty, for the kids of Iraq.
Meanwhile, I'm crossing my UkuLady fingers that You Know Who will be asked to be in the wedding party, or maybe write a special love song for Jenna's special day.... I'll write her a special What-To-Expect-When-You-Lose-Your-Virginity song, as we all know Jenna is an upstanding young Right-Wing Christian and if there's one thing that's important to the Evangelicals, it's an unmarred vagina marching down the aisle. Hopefully her fiance isn't like all the Right-Wing Christian Senators who've recently been caught molesting boys and soliciting gay sex in men's restrooms. As Jenna's myspace friend, I am protective over her and wouldn't want her to catch an STD on her special virginity-losing-wedding night!
Love The UkuLady
PS: I saw a yarn store in Chatsworth today called Hooker's Haven. Chatsworth, is apparently the porn capital of the world.
PPS: Pumice & Hummus - twinsies!
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Celebraginas and more!
Dear Blog,
An amusing and awful name for a child would be Trilogy, as in, "OMG, Trilogy and Chad were totally making out behind the bleachers!"
Or, "OMG, Trilogy and Epilogue totally broke up after prom!"
Love The Ukulady
PS: US Magazine makes it seem like celebrities vaginas, celebraginas, are totally sterile, magical and fresh. The US Magazine I was forced by curiosity, to read today, mentioned Nicole Richie was "spotting". I am horrified to picture Nicole Richie dashing to the bathroom and discovering blood in her panties. And US Magazine, available at the supermarket checkout, where kids can readily browse through pictures of scantily-clad boob-jobbed starlets, painted this disturbing picture for me. Why is Nicole Richie's blood-stained thong news?
PPS: I love it and I hope she spots more.
PPPS: Trilogy would totally help Nicole Richie wash her dirty panties and then they'd totally make-out for the paparazzi.
An amusing and awful name for a child would be Trilogy, as in, "OMG, Trilogy and Chad were totally making out behind the bleachers!"
Or, "OMG, Trilogy and Epilogue totally broke up after prom!"
Love The Ukulady
PS: US Magazine makes it seem like celebrities vaginas, celebraginas, are totally sterile, magical and fresh. The US Magazine I was forced by curiosity, to read today, mentioned Nicole Richie was "spotting". I am horrified to picture Nicole Richie dashing to the bathroom and discovering blood in her panties. And US Magazine, available at the supermarket checkout, where kids can readily browse through pictures of scantily-clad boob-jobbed starlets, painted this disturbing picture for me. Why is Nicole Richie's blood-stained thong news?
PPS: I love it and I hope she spots more.
PPPS: Trilogy would totally help Nicole Richie wash her dirty panties and then they'd totally make-out for the paparazzi.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Friday, July 13, 2007
The Korean Spa Blog - Spa Blog!
Dear Blog,
I paid to have a Korean lady wearing black lace panties and bra, slough my nude body free of several layers of skin cells. As I lay porcine-like, on the Korean Spa’s slippery vinyl sloughing-table, the scantilly-clad spa-lady gruntingly sloughing, dangerously close to my vajayjay and all I could think of was, “Please don’t touch my vagina by mistake!” and then the mantra became, “Please don’t touch my vagina by mistake again!”
Then the Sloughers, all dressed in black bra and panties, began to chat amongst themselves in Korean and I became paranoid that they were judging me and my imperfect body and simultaneously were appalled at the amount of skin they were sloughing off; and then It occurred to me that this is what it is like to be quadrapalegic or extremely rich; and then I opened my eyes and found myself face to face with the Slougher’s own vagina, barely concealed by her possibly Ross Dress for Less polyester panties. And the Slougher scrubbed my boobs in repeated concentric motions and I couldn’t believe I had Paid to have this done to me; and I thought, “Please stop rubbing my breasts in concentric circles!” And then I realized I was wasting my spa-treatment by not relaxing into The Zone. So I tried to enjoy the pampering, the tactile sensations and considered how dead-skin-free I would soon be.
Then came the Milk Bath. Seriously. My eyes were shut, but I later saw the Black-Panty-Spa-Ladies using actual gallons of milk one might purchase at Albertsons. They poured milk all over me and instructed me, through hand signals, to wash my face in the milk. I complied. Then came the oil-massage rub-down and a cucumber-mash smeared on my face. The oil-massage consisted of a lot more of my ass being vigorously rubbed by a woman who up until now, was a stranger, but she had transformed into someone with a far more intimate knowledge of my body than pretty much anyone in the past month. My breasts were again concentrically-moisturized and frighteningly, Black-Panty-Spa-Lady’s hands repeatedly came dangerously close, by mistake, to the intimate crannies of my imperfect, but freshly-sloughed, body.
At the end, I felt renewed, moisturized and extremely clean. I would probably go back.
Love The UkuLady
PS: Today Victoria Beckham is on the front page of the LA Times. The urgent news demanded of their newspaper by Angelenos never stops.
I paid to have a Korean lady wearing black lace panties and bra, slough my nude body free of several layers of skin cells. As I lay porcine-like, on the Korean Spa’s slippery vinyl sloughing-table, the scantilly-clad spa-lady gruntingly sloughing, dangerously close to my vajayjay and all I could think of was, “Please don’t touch my vagina by mistake!” and then the mantra became, “Please don’t touch my vagina by mistake again!”
Then the Sloughers, all dressed in black bra and panties, began to chat amongst themselves in Korean and I became paranoid that they were judging me and my imperfect body and simultaneously were appalled at the amount of skin they were sloughing off; and then It occurred to me that this is what it is like to be quadrapalegic or extremely rich; and then I opened my eyes and found myself face to face with the Slougher’s own vagina, barely concealed by her possibly Ross Dress for Less polyester panties. And the Slougher scrubbed my boobs in repeated concentric motions and I couldn’t believe I had Paid to have this done to me; and I thought, “Please stop rubbing my breasts in concentric circles!” And then I realized I was wasting my spa-treatment by not relaxing into The Zone. So I tried to enjoy the pampering, the tactile sensations and considered how dead-skin-free I would soon be.
Then came the Milk Bath. Seriously. My eyes were shut, but I later saw the Black-Panty-Spa-Ladies using actual gallons of milk one might purchase at Albertsons. They poured milk all over me and instructed me, through hand signals, to wash my face in the milk. I complied. Then came the oil-massage rub-down and a cucumber-mash smeared on my face. The oil-massage consisted of a lot more of my ass being vigorously rubbed by a woman who up until now, was a stranger, but she had transformed into someone with a far more intimate knowledge of my body than pretty much anyone in the past month. My breasts were again concentrically-moisturized and frighteningly, Black-Panty-Spa-Lady’s hands repeatedly came dangerously close, by mistake, to the intimate crannies of my imperfect, but freshly-sloughed, body.
At the end, I felt renewed, moisturized and extremely clean. I would probably go back.
Love The UkuLady
PS: Today Victoria Beckham is on the front page of the LA Times. The urgent news demanded of their newspaper by Angelenos never stops.
Monday, June 4, 2007
Thursday, May 24, 2007
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.
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.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
UkuLady in Houston & Cameltoe FatPouch!
Dear Blog,
I write this from the Everybody-Is-Allowed-Area of Houston Hobby Airport, where the native Texans flock to bid farewells. Everything really is Bigger in Texas. The American Obesity Epidemic is in full bloom here at the Houston airport. In one way, it’s refreshing to be amidst absolutely zero junkie-style-meth-freak hipsters; the Silverlake (LA) Mission (SF) Williamsburg (NYC) artsy hipsters (of which, I’m admittedly, probably one), with super skinny jeans and shaggy/wispy haircuts and eighties-style ballerina flats (although I have none of the above). Although the hipsters are lacking, flats, the shoe, are all over the Houston airport, along with the cork-heeled wedgie; however most of the flats here in Houston encircle sausage-like feet, stuffed into the pleather and fleshily bursting below the cuffs of high-rise pants! Yes, they are alive and well here in Houston! I haven’t seen high-rise jeans in years and I’m pleased to announce they have never gone away. Being at the Houston airport has brought to light an extremely disturbing phenomenon; the Fat-Pouch Cameltoe Roll. I write this dispatch, seemingly surrounded by the displeasing spectacle. It is a cameltoe that goes beyond the Muffin, squeezing the belly of American Obesity Epidemic Victims, into two parts, a vertical equatorial vagina-line; essentially prolonging normal cameltoe all the way to the waist. It’s really unattractive.
Houston Hobby also has an abundance of American Flag garments, from tee-shirts to hats to the previously discussed, ties. I’ve also seen a lot of teen mothers, few non-white people and many skinny-thighed-but-enormously-bellied-women, which makes me feel kind of jealous, as skinny thighs seem to be a genetically-unattainable goal. I also think about how Anusara yoga would really be great for all the Houston Plumpies.
LATER:
I am now in the Passenger-Only waiting area and Aha! Here’s where all the non-white people are. It’s It’s A Small World in real life here amongst the peeps headed to the Capital Of Planet Earth, NYC. The people-color medley reminds me of why I love NYC; the medley, buzzing together in the beehive of the 5 boroughs, forced to interact with one another on the subway, on the streets, in the high-rises. In LA we are isolated in our cars, our huge boulevards and tract-house developments. LA is a medley of peeps, but Angelinos are rarely forced to interact with people other than their constituency. I go to my agency, interact with other voiceover actors; I go to my yoga studio, interact with yoga people, go to gay bars, interact with my gay men. In my neighborhood, I am somewhat ostracized by my Latino neighbors, glared at for asking them to park better so we can all fit, and disliked for moving their trash bins placed in prime-parking spots every garbage night. Crash is totally a right-on movie. The trick to Enjoyment of LA Living is discovering community. Fucking hippie.
Love The UkuLady
PS; Brittney would friggin love the Houston Airport - she'd be amongst her people!
I write this from the Everybody-Is-Allowed-Area of Houston Hobby Airport, where the native Texans flock to bid farewells. Everything really is Bigger in Texas. The American Obesity Epidemic is in full bloom here at the Houston airport. In one way, it’s refreshing to be amidst absolutely zero junkie-style-meth-freak hipsters; the Silverlake (LA) Mission (SF) Williamsburg (NYC) artsy hipsters (of which, I’m admittedly, probably one), with super skinny jeans and shaggy/wispy haircuts and eighties-style ballerina flats (although I have none of the above). Although the hipsters are lacking, flats, the shoe, are all over the Houston airport, along with the cork-heeled wedgie; however most of the flats here in Houston encircle sausage-like feet, stuffed into the pleather and fleshily bursting below the cuffs of high-rise pants! Yes, they are alive and well here in Houston! I haven’t seen high-rise jeans in years and I’m pleased to announce they have never gone away. Being at the Houston airport has brought to light an extremely disturbing phenomenon; the Fat-Pouch Cameltoe Roll. I write this dispatch, seemingly surrounded by the displeasing spectacle. It is a cameltoe that goes beyond the Muffin, squeezing the belly of American Obesity Epidemic Victims, into two parts, a vertical equatorial vagina-line; essentially prolonging normal cameltoe all the way to the waist. It’s really unattractive.
Houston Hobby also has an abundance of American Flag garments, from tee-shirts to hats to the previously discussed, ties. I’ve also seen a lot of teen mothers, few non-white people and many skinny-thighed-but-enormously-bellied-women, which makes me feel kind of jealous, as skinny thighs seem to be a genetically-unattainable goal. I also think about how Anusara yoga would really be great for all the Houston Plumpies.
LATER:
I am now in the Passenger-Only waiting area and Aha! Here’s where all the non-white people are. It’s It’s A Small World in real life here amongst the peeps headed to the Capital Of Planet Earth, NYC. The people-color medley reminds me of why I love NYC; the medley, buzzing together in the beehive of the 5 boroughs, forced to interact with one another on the subway, on the streets, in the high-rises. In LA we are isolated in our cars, our huge boulevards and tract-house developments. LA is a medley of peeps, but Angelinos are rarely forced to interact with people other than their constituency. I go to my agency, interact with other voiceover actors; I go to my yoga studio, interact with yoga people, go to gay bars, interact with my gay men. In my neighborhood, I am somewhat ostracized by my Latino neighbors, glared at for asking them to park better so we can all fit, and disliked for moving their trash bins placed in prime-parking spots every garbage night. Crash is totally a right-on movie. The trick to Enjoyment of LA Living is discovering community. Fucking hippie.
Love The UkuLady
PS; Brittney would friggin love the Houston Airport - she'd be amongst her people!
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Disneyland Magic!
Dear Blog!
Today was a Special Occasion! In honor of Don Black's 30th birthday last September, I took him to Disneyland! Along for the Special O, were two delightful galpalsies FolkFlower & Saturn Girl. Literally. Folkflower is my Indigo Girls friend and Saturn Girl is my voiceover friend. We were Team Great Day and it was.
Here are the observations from the Gay Boy Capital of Southern California, aka, The Happiest Place on Earth (untrue):
1. Jean Shorts are unattractive on Everyone. Even The Slim should not wear Jean Shorts. I mean the jean shorts that are hemmed and made as shorts, not jean pants which have been haphazardly cut in the heat of summer, to provide relief from a sweltering sun and teen angst. Jean cutoffs, depending on length and the form-fittingness, are on the edge of ok. I believe jeans are meant to be a long-panted garment and are fairly hideous on everyone, as a short. Particularly the plump are fashion-no's, in jean shorts. Not that I am a fashion maven, but I feel strongly about the jean short.
2. Shorts are a tricky item. Many shorts are poorly cut or thoughtlessly designed. It seems the majority of shorts cause it's wearer to look fat, dowdy and ultimately touristy.
3. Shorts that do not fit into the above catagory include Dickies brand, and any baggy-ish cutoffy-Non-Pleated (extremely important) and shorts that go Below the Knee. For some reason, above-the-knee shorts are unflattering on almost everyone; women have a far more difficult task, looking good in shorts, than men. Some woman are luckily, blessed with cellulite-free genes. Not me. Happily, as I found out today, at Disneyland, not most women. Even the slimmest of the slim, generally have cellulite.
4. Almost all the youthful collegiate ride-assistants at Disneyland are totally my peeps, gay boys. Cute musical theatery fellows. It's an interesting juxtoposition, as Walt Disney was a nazi supporter and sheltered several nazi scientists after the Holocaust. These pals of Walt, were the first Imagineers. So it's odd that so many gay men love Disneyland. I love it too. I think it's the kitsch.
5. The best part of Disneyland is the landscaping. Great plants.
6. Gluttony is in the air at Disneyland. What is it about Main Street USA, which feeds me with the impulse to buy ice cream, taffy apples and grandma's fudge? Something about the Good Old Fashioned Fun...leads to Old Fashioned All-American Gluttony. Team Great Day resisted the sugar everywhere and ended our Special Occasion Day in LA's Chinatown. My fortune said I deserve respect and would soon get it. Bring it, Hollywood.
7. I was surprised at the under-abundance of obesity at Disneyland. Certainly I saw my fair share of overly-large "guests", as they call us, but it was nothing compared to the horrifying LA County Fair (see www.TheUkulady.com songpage song: LA County Fair)
8. Small World has a sign right before you embark into the line which says "On This Ride You Will Be Serenaded by Costumed Children From Around The World". Hilarious. Costumed cardboard cut-outs.
9. In Echo Park, before we left for the OC, one galpal told us that her bikini-waxer said,"A girl must 'Scrub The Muffin'". Reminded me of Best Chicago Gay Friend, who's African American officemate told her grandchildren to, "Clean Out Your Pocketbooks Real Good".
10. Speaking of hoohas, the UkuLady was preceded last night at Canter's Kibitz, by the worst singer/songwriter I've ever heard. He actually, earnestly, sang a song which repeatedly included the lyrics, "I wanna kiss her vagina". Makes me feel dirty just writing it. He was sadly beyond awful. Made me feel really good about myself, in that I knew that audience would love me because I certainly would not be singing earnestly about kissing any unmentionables.
Love The UkLady
PS: I love cowboys, pirates, pioneers, cartoon vegetables, ghosts, tropical knick-knackery and mermaids. Ultimately, that's what Disneyland is. And spaceships, ice cream socials, frogs, teacups, butterflies, eyelashed woodland creatures and indiana jones.
PPS: All the ladies of Team Great Day agreed we would totally get it on with Harrison Ford, even in his old-age.
Today was a Special Occasion! In honor of Don Black's 30th birthday last September, I took him to Disneyland! Along for the Special O, were two delightful galpalsies FolkFlower & Saturn Girl. Literally. Folkflower is my Indigo Girls friend and Saturn Girl is my voiceover friend. We were Team Great Day and it was.
Here are the observations from the Gay Boy Capital of Southern California, aka, The Happiest Place on Earth (untrue):
1. Jean Shorts are unattractive on Everyone. Even The Slim should not wear Jean Shorts. I mean the jean shorts that are hemmed and made as shorts, not jean pants which have been haphazardly cut in the heat of summer, to provide relief from a sweltering sun and teen angst. Jean cutoffs, depending on length and the form-fittingness, are on the edge of ok. I believe jeans are meant to be a long-panted garment and are fairly hideous on everyone, as a short. Particularly the plump are fashion-no's, in jean shorts. Not that I am a fashion maven, but I feel strongly about the jean short.
2. Shorts are a tricky item. Many shorts are poorly cut or thoughtlessly designed. It seems the majority of shorts cause it's wearer to look fat, dowdy and ultimately touristy.
3. Shorts that do not fit into the above catagory include Dickies brand, and any baggy-ish cutoffy-Non-Pleated (extremely important) and shorts that go Below the Knee. For some reason, above-the-knee shorts are unflattering on almost everyone; women have a far more difficult task, looking good in shorts, than men. Some woman are luckily, blessed with cellulite-free genes. Not me. Happily, as I found out today, at Disneyland, not most women. Even the slimmest of the slim, generally have cellulite.
4. Almost all the youthful collegiate ride-assistants at Disneyland are totally my peeps, gay boys. Cute musical theatery fellows. It's an interesting juxtoposition, as Walt Disney was a nazi supporter and sheltered several nazi scientists after the Holocaust. These pals of Walt, were the first Imagineers. So it's odd that so many gay men love Disneyland. I love it too. I think it's the kitsch.
5. The best part of Disneyland is the landscaping. Great plants.
6. Gluttony is in the air at Disneyland. What is it about Main Street USA, which feeds me with the impulse to buy ice cream, taffy apples and grandma's fudge? Something about the Good Old Fashioned Fun...leads to Old Fashioned All-American Gluttony. Team Great Day resisted the sugar everywhere and ended our Special Occasion Day in LA's Chinatown. My fortune said I deserve respect and would soon get it. Bring it, Hollywood.
7. I was surprised at the under-abundance of obesity at Disneyland. Certainly I saw my fair share of overly-large "guests", as they call us, but it was nothing compared to the horrifying LA County Fair (see www.TheUkulady.com songpage song: LA County Fair)
8. Small World has a sign right before you embark into the line which says "On This Ride You Will Be Serenaded by Costumed Children From Around The World". Hilarious. Costumed cardboard cut-outs.
9. In Echo Park, before we left for the OC, one galpal told us that her bikini-waxer said,"A girl must 'Scrub The Muffin'". Reminded me of Best Chicago Gay Friend, who's African American officemate told her grandchildren to, "Clean Out Your Pocketbooks Real Good".
10. Speaking of hoohas, the UkuLady was preceded last night at Canter's Kibitz, by the worst singer/songwriter I've ever heard. He actually, earnestly, sang a song which repeatedly included the lyrics, "I wanna kiss her vagina". Makes me feel dirty just writing it. He was sadly beyond awful. Made me feel really good about myself, in that I knew that audience would love me because I certainly would not be singing earnestly about kissing any unmentionables.
Love The UkLady
PS: I love cowboys, pirates, pioneers, cartoon vegetables, ghosts, tropical knick-knackery and mermaids. Ultimately, that's what Disneyland is. And spaceships, ice cream socials, frogs, teacups, butterflies, eyelashed woodland creatures and indiana jones.
PPS: All the ladies of Team Great Day agreed we would totally get it on with Harrison Ford, even in his old-age.
Sunday, March 11, 2007
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
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
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