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Hello, lovelies.

Welcome back to Gilda Sue’s Mail Bag This week, I have another letter from our old pal, Father Patrick Fitzpatrick of the Sister Mary Frances School for Underage And Guileless Boys in Pawhuska, Oklahoma. Hey, Father Pat! The Father writes,

“Gilda Sue. I always wanted to learn to speak in tongues, but there’s not even an elective for that in Catholic Priesting School. Do you know where I can take a class?”

Well, hon, wouldn’t learning to speak in tongues be like learning to be a midget, or an idiot savant, or a CNN legal commentator/television hostess with over-large nostrils, and a permanent scowl born of self-righteous indignation, a fixation on celebrity lawsuits, and a passion for hearing yourself talk (in tongues or otherwise)? Even if you could actually learn such a thing, you might find it’s not as much fun as it sounds.

Once I had nothing better to do to fill the void in a super-long, hot summer (which is the very predicament in which you seem to have found yourself, Father) and I took some Continuing Ed classes at the Lake Tar Monkey Community College. Their Language Arts Department offered up what looked like a rockin’ “Yiddish for Gentiles” class. (Not as easy as it sounded. I got a C). And The Home Ec Department teamed up with the Psych Department to offer “Mixology as Fixology” which was a sort of group therapy in the kitchen. As it turns out, being creative and busy (not to mention tipsy!) did help some folks take their minds off of their troubles, like rocky marriages, abusive childhoods, or frowned-upon sexual urges that they still can’t “pray away” even after all those beatings by nuns and years of boring Seminary. I actually didn’t really need the therapy part. I was just bored and thirsty, which is not a real-real good combo, by the way. (Grade-schmade! I just remember that that class was the birth place of the “Chicken Salad-infused Drambuie-tini,” and that it was a damn blast. I’m now also remembering that I was escorted off campus grounds on more than one occasion during that class, but for the life of me, I can’t remember why. Or by whom. Or to where.) Anyway, maybe the Pawhuska Community College offers up something similar.

Good luck, Father Pat! And let us know how that goes.

Bye now. Keep those cards and letters coming!

Hello, Lovelies.

Folks have been asking how the rest of the run of Lake Tar Monkey Summertime Theater Repertory Company Under The Stars But Not WITH The Stars, We Don’t Have That Much Money (YET!)’s A Streetcar Named Desire turned out. I apologize for not updating y’all on that, but really and truly the whole thing was a bust. Being an actor is exhausting, frustrating, and could leave a girl wondering, “is that all there is?” (Not unlike some actors playing Stanley these days, though I’m not naming names, Gomez.)

Let’s just say that it’s over and done with, and that I learned a thing or two from Blanche Bubois. Mainly that she’s a nutcase, and that depending on the kindness of strangers is for suckers. I mean I’d never met that meshugener who calls himself a theater critic. Not once. Which makes him a stranger. I think you know what I’m saying. Oy.

But, no matter. I am on to bigger and better things. As of this weekend, I can call myself Bitch!’s Semi-Annual/Quasi-Amateur/Demi-National Strip Trivia Champ! It’s true. I learned a thing or two there, as well. Did y’all know that more folks die from donkeys than from plane crashes? I KNOW! No, I mean I really do know that. It wasn’t one of the things I learned. That’s how I won and took the title right out from under Nancy Grace’s nose. And if you’ve seen those nostrils (they get bigger with every face lift, I swear), you can appreciate how scary the whole thing was.
Onward, and upward, folks!

Book Club: PSYCHO and Re-Psycholing.

As some of y’all may know, I’ve been picked by a director to play a part in A Streetcar Named Desire. It’s a play. It’s at The Lake Tar Monkey Summertime Theater Repertory Company Under The Stars But Not WITH The Stars, We Don’t Have That Much Money (YET!). I’m going to be Blanche Dubois. It’s gonna rock.

But, now, do any of you know anything at all about this Blanche Du Bois?

If you do, please clue me in. I’ve read this play– well, I’ve skimmed it– and I swear to goodness, I do not get it.

Thanks a ton!

Y’all, 2011 just keeps getting better! The movie about my life now has a producer, and she rocks! Her name is Armadillo. No, really, I swear. And even if she had no experience making movies, I’d have brought her on board based solely on her rockin’ name. (Do y’all know how many different types of armadillos there are? I mean, look ’em up! Check out that picture of the Pink Fairy Armadillo. Luckily, ours is the magical Nine-Banded Armadillo. Probably.) But even though her name would’ve been enough for me, the bonus is that this armadillo does actually know what she’s doing, and she’s done it before. We have a back story, Arma and I do, it’s true. I met her years ago at Bitch!, but we sort of fell out of touch. When we found each other again, she was a big shot film professional and I was a computer Internet sensation, and the rest is about to be history, y’all. And Groundhog Day is just around the corner! Isn’t the armadillo just a female groundhog? How super appropriate. You can see more of Arma’s handiwork if you watch the TV. She coordinates the Art Department for that show about teen vamps, The Vampire Diaries. (I KNOW!)
Welcome to Team Gilda, Arma. We’re tickled pink to have you on board!

Hello, lovelies! Help me welcome Atlanta sound engineer, musician, and Irishman Cayce Means to The Mean Mama Dog family!

Y’all, we’re just tickled pink to have this fellow on board, as he’ll be recording the voices in the movie about my life, which I’m told (just in my particular case, apparently) “is a dirty job, but someone has to do it.” (I know!)

Whatever.

Thanks, Cayce! You rock!

Hello Lovelies! Big news! I’ve signed up to find my dream boat, my Mr. Right, you know–my “Some-Mensch to Watch Over Me”–on a computer Internet dating website for half-Jewish Southerners called E-Hominy.com. Their motto is “Love and the whole schmeer!” I’m real real excited. To start, I had to come up with a “user name.” Now, “user name” did not sound all that encouraging on a dating website, to be sure. But, I’m forging ahead. I think my “user name” is real real cute and super appropriate ever since I downgraded my Brazilian Wax to a Mexican Wax, then upgraded to a Disco Wax, and got vajazzled by gluing sparklies on my hoo-hah. (My kiki! You know–my SuzyQ!) Eligible, single, computer Internet savvy, handsome half-Jewish men can now find me on E-Hominy.com as “The Gilded Suzy!”
Wish me luck, y’all! And I’ll keep you posted!

Oy, y’all! Halloween is scary enough with all those adolescent no-necks disguised as zombies, and vampires, and Amy Winehouses banging on the door with threats of “treat me or I’ll trick you” in hopes of getting gobs of candy that won’t do them any good, anyway. Do we have to endure all the grown up no-necks disguised as concerned and respectable citizens doing the same in hopes of getting votes that won’t do anybody good, too? Jeez! I’m glad that’s over!