Tag Archives: joan rivers

If a tree falls in the forest, do you hear it? Do you care?

Tonight I walked up Park Avenue a little after 2 a.m.   I do this fairly often.  I don’t find it scary, but I’d never tell my mom I do it.   It’s pretty uneventful.  Occasionally a cab will slow down in hopes you’ll flag it.  Sometimes a hotel doorman will make eye contact with you.  Very rarely will you ever pass another human being.   

But tonight was different.  An opportunity presented itself.  The stars aligned and suddenly I was face to face with my destiny: a ringing pay phone.

So I stopped.  Looked at it.  Wished I had actually seen Phone Booth.  Thought about all the communicable diseases they say lurk on pay phones.  Remembered how Conan mentioned that “in a phone booth” is the number one place people fantasize about having sex.  Became really tempted to answer.  But in the end, all I did was laugh, say, “No, don’t do that,” and kept walking.

Even as I turned and took that first step, though, I was surprised and disappointed.  Had you asked me only hours ago if I was the kind of person who would answer a random ringing pay phone, I feel like I would have adamantly declared, “Yes.  Yes I am that kind of person.”  Only tonight proved differently.  Destiny called and I kept walking.  It’s kind of like that Hillary Clinton ad–the “who do you want answering the White House phone at 3am?” ad.  That’s how she must have felt when she wasn’t chosen as the Democratic nominee…oh.  I guess I’m not the kind of person they want answering the phone.  Except she at least TRIED to answer it.

Still, it’s probably for the best.  Because who calls a pay phone on Park Avenue at two in the morning? 

This guy?

This guy?

One of these girls?

These girls?

Heres Johnny?

Here's Johnny?

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The Local News is My Version of Hell

It’s a joke. A 30-minute disaster of a not-funny joke that makes my skin crawl in much the same way that my apartment is crawling with various infestations. Anyway, tonight I found myself watching the 11pm local news on CBS. I don’t know why. They suck you in with bizarre headlines and you think, “I simply cannot continue living life on this planet if I do not hear about that NYC firefighter who called in fake alarms to keep his station afloat with all these budget cuts threatening to shut it down.” Or something. I missed that report.

But luckily I did catch a fascinating report towards the end of the broadcast, just before Letterman (who had John McCain as his guest, WTF?). It was a “health” report from Dr. Holly Phillips about this not even all that new procedure called a “Y-Lift” that is “even better than a face lift!” It gets its name from the way in which the facial filler is injected into the skin–in a “Y” shape, apparently. A couple posts ago I said the American workaholic mentality was one of my least favorite things about this country. New idea: the American obsession with all things age-defying and anti-wrinkle tops that list. This is how Dr. Holly Phillips finished her important report (more important than all the other things going on in the world? fuck off, CBS):

There is a slight chance of having an allergic reaction to cosmetic fillers. To prevent this, ask your doctor to test a small amount of the filler on the inside of your wrist before injecting it into your face.

Do you hear yourself, Dr. Holly? “INTO YOUR FACE.” Best of all, though, was when it was handed back over to co-anchor Kristine Johnson who made this flub:

The cost of the wife lift procedure starts at about $4,500.

Pretty sure she meant to say Y-Lift…but I’m not going to open up that Freudian slip of worms. I’ll just move right on to the money thing. $4,500?? Are you kidding me? I was outraged at a man on a subway platform tonight using a $1 bill as a bookmark. Seemed like an unnecessary flaunting of wealth. So don’t sit there on your lumbar-supporting chair, misreading your teleprompter, and casually drop a figure like $4,500. We’re all going to be waiting in bread lines come New Years, but hey, at least our faces will be taut.