Y’all, I was recently combing through Gilda Sue’s Mail Bag. So many letters have come in that need my attention. If you’re thinking of asking me for The Best Advice on the Computer Internet, take a minute to look through past letters here:
. We may have addressed your dilemma. If not, please feel free to write me.
Those of y’all who don’t do the blogging thing may not know that there’s a way we bloggers can see which posts get a lot of visits, and what part of the world readers are visiting from.
Studying those statistics have led me to understand that folks in the British Isles LOVE vagazzling. Or are real-real fixated on it. Or are super-terrified of it? I don’t know, but 90% of the meshuggners who click onto my 2010 post about this very topic (http://gildasuerosenstern.com/2010/09/10/vajazzle-vajangle-or-vagetaboutit/) are from the British Isles.
What’s that about? If you are Irish or British (and if you’ve found this blog entry, I feel pretty certain that you are) please let me know what’s going on over there? Are you all vagazzlers? Wanna-be vagazzlers? What gives? Leave your comment here and enlighten me!
Tonight at The Laughing Skull Lounge! 8pm.
Gilda Sue LIVE!
Best five to seven minutes of you holiday, right there!
What? What I mean is–
Y’all, we at Mean Mama Dog Productions are super-duper excited to announce a new fundraising campaign for the movie about my life! I KNOW!
As some of you may know, we began filming the movie about my life last fall, but we ran out of American dollars. Now, we don’t really need tons of money to make this movie about my life, but we do need some. There aren’t any car chases, explosions, sword fights, or extra-terrrestrials– wait. Hold on, There may actually be an extra-terrestrial or two. I mean, maybe not. At present, we aren’t real-real sure what in the world those folks actually are. It remains to be seen.
If you want to find out what in the world those folks actually are, give us some of your hard-earned cash so we can make the darn movie and show everyone, including you what those darn folks actually are. Maybe.
Here’s my point: go to our Indiegogo page. Check out all the cool “perks” we offer contributors. And, most important, PLEASE PASS IT ON! Use that little Facebook icon to share it. Tweet it. E-mail it to all your coolest friends, you know, the ones who like super-cute independent film.
Thanks a ton, y’all!
Y’all know it’s only a matter of time until that Todd Akin’s own daddy outs him by confessing to be his mama’s rapist. These closeted gays/Jews/spawn of rapists are becoming awfully predictable. Oy.
Y’all, Richard Garner is a total big wig. He’s The Big Boss Man at The Georgia Shakespeare Festival. He recently sat down with me for a chat and a dram, and it was super, super fun. My job rocks, if you want to know the truth. Real-real! Read more about our meet up HERE!
Thanks, lovelies. Hey, do me a favor and share the website, the new episodes, your favorite blog post–whatever–to all of your social networking sites. I’ll be your BFF!
Y’all, Mira Hirsch just totally rocks the ever-lovin’ casbah. So charming. So Jewish. I mean, she’s completely Jewish, not just half. And she rocks that Jewishness like no other full Jewess I know! (Except for Granny Rosenstern, of course.)
The bad news here is that my camera crew only got half the interview. The good news is that it’s Mira’s half.
Note: Never pay your crew in Drambuie shooters. Or at least wait until the shoot is wrapped before delivering payment. Oy!
I recently got myself invited to a party at the now super-famous Sister Louisa’s Church of the Living Room and Ping Pong Emporium. Let me be the first (or nine hundredth?) to tell you how hard that place rocks.
So hard that I totally left feeling like a natural woman.
Here’s a photo of me feeling like a natural woman. Y’all, they have karaoke. (I KNOW!)
A nice half Jewish gal like me never felt so close to Jesus! I mean, he was damn everywhere, y’all. Pictures of him and words of encouragement cover all of the walls. Mama’s First Baptist Church Twice Removed was remiss. They never taught me any of this stuff in Sunday School! And Rabbi Spiderman never told me that Jesus loves country girls, although, if I’d ever really thought about it, I suppose it would have been obvious.
Here I am basking in the glow with Marcus Calloway! (Spiritual Sangria helps with the glow part. And the basking part, too, come to think of it. Real-real.)
Apparently, the folks from that Sort-of-Cartoon/Sort-of-Not-Cartoon Network were throwing this soiree, and they were super good hosts, but really and truly, those people are meshuge! In a good way. Tons of fun. My only regret was that I didn’t get to meet the actual Sister herself.
Anyway, as the good sister loves to say, “Get yer tuches to Church!” (Or something like that.) Do it. You won’t be sorry. And maybe I’ll see you there!
Did y’all know that the newt (the small lizard-like animal, not the large lizard-like politician) used to be an ewt? I’m not talking about evolution, folks. I mean the newt once had a different name?
It didn’t change its own name like Bruce Wayne or Marylin Monroe. Humans changed it. And those humans didn’t change it intentionally because they felt it suited the creature better, or because it looked like their crazy Uncle from Georgia. Their ability to speak the English language properly caused them to inadvertently do the following:
For some time the creature was known as “an ewt,”
but the “n” from the indefinite article an shifted to form a newt.
What in the world? Were these meshugenners drunk?
Y’all, in my previous post, I was kvetching about folks refusing to use the swiftly-fading an. But now I see how dangerous such a word can be in the wrong hands. Speaking correctly changed the poor ewt forever, and it likely has an identity complex few of us (but for masked vigilantes and sex symbols) can ever fully comprehend. I suppose I should be grateful that, since most folks reading this probably don’t even know what I’m talking about, this sort of thing isn’t likely to happen again.
Still I beg you to use the indefinite article an, but for the love of Moses, y’all, use it wisely.
Though Bill Clinton has raised the argument that we don’t really know what the definition of is is, it has been made very clear (over and over again) that “it is what it is.” If you missed all my kvetching about that, you can read all about that here.
But, for the love of Moses, the overuse of the word (as in the following phrase, or any like it) absolutely must stop:
“The truth is is that there are too many ises in this sentence.”
Y’all, that doesn’t make any sense at all. You only need one is there. I don’t care which one. The first one is good, but the second one will do in a pinch. Pick one.
Also, since we’re here, there is a much-neglected article in the English language of which I feel very protective, as I’m sure faithful readers/viewers can attest. That article is an. No, y’all can’t ignore it and just use its cousin a whenever you want. An does what a has no business even trying. AN! Use it. Thanks.
Oh, and while I’m at it, about those new toe-separating running shoes: They make Birkenstocks look glamorous. Some of the schmuks sporting those things don’t even run. If you’re wearing them in your regular life, like off the running track, you’re looking like a bit of a schlemiel, and (even worse) you’ll have to stop mocking boys in “popped” collars and saying things like “That’s so Eighties! What a loser!”
Thanks, y’all. And cheers!
|Nobody cool has sported this look since the ’80’s. 1588, to be exact. Jeez. What a nincompoop.