Confession

From CNN:

Anti-epileptic and anti-anxiety medications were detected in a portion of the treated drinking water for 18.5 million people in Southern California.

I'm totally addicted to water now. It's like I need it to live. I wish that someone could help me. It's like I'm crying out but nobody can hear. I have got to get off the junk. Today, I did something I swore I'd never do. I turned a trick because the guy promised he could get me some water. And now I probably have a disease. And the water he gave me was some schwaggy bullshit too. I am so anxious and having so many seizures now. Help me, Dr. Drew Pinsky, I don't even know myself anymore. I want to stop drinking water, but the disease is stronger than me. Okay, I am going to go rob a bank now to get money for water. This is your fault, water. I didn't wanna live like this.

I solved a mystery.

Even though I am retired from the force, I still see a case every once in a while that makes me want to put my detective helmet back on and get out on the streets.


Today was one of those days.


NYPD: Person on bicycle seen near Times Square blast site
By TOM HAYS Associated Press Writer
1:57 PM EST, March 6, 2008

NEW YORK - Police released footage from a private security camera on Thursday showing a cyclist riding up to the Times Square military recruiting station where a small bomb was detonated.


Um, hey police. I know who rides bikes:









You are welcome, again.

You Are Welcome

Okay, I am not saying I am a scientist or anything, but I just invented something that's going to change the world. The hot-dog bong.
















AMERICAN DOMINATION IN HOT-DOG EATING CONTESTS IS ABOUT TO BECOME A REALITY.

YOU'RE WELCOME, FREEDOM.

Too Hot For Radio

Well, it happened! The day every little girl dreams about. The day a radio host in the South actually CANCELS A SCHEDULED INTERVIEW WITH you because your book is "not right for the bible belt."

I was going to get on the air and say "Dildo, dildo, Jesus-dildo," so I guess she pulled out just in time!

You Are The Wind Beneath My Matted Crepe Dress Shirt, To Be Worn Loose or Tucked In

This isn't one of those blogs where I tell you shit about myself all the time and take pictures of myself in cute outfits, not because I am modest, but because I am boring and ugly.

But yesterday, I got an extremely personal email that really touched me, and I think that I'd like to share it with you.

I hadn't heard from this person in awhile, and I guess I thought they didn't care about me, or even worse that they didn't even really KNOW me. But then this came through, and I realized that *I* was the asshole.

This person and I had gone on a vacation together some years ago, and after we stopped being close, I had deleted all my photos of the trip, but obviously they didn't and they put together this montage of our time together in Barbados with captions that made me realize the depth of this person's care for me, and needless to say we are now back in touch.

Thank you life, thank you love, thank you everyone.

From: tanietssimpson22paivp@hushmail.com

Dear Wendy,



And after that, I was crying, but she didn't stop there, she kept going, making me realize everything I'd been missing out on.


Yes, she knew I wanted to make you appearance known, and more...


If you have a friend or family member that you haven't reached out to in a while, remember that one little email can repair a friendship that you thought was totally broken, and also remember that, as tanietsimpson@hushmail says, Skyway Dr., Bldg 1 Hangar C -- Edgewater FL 32132.

Re-runs.

So, for some reason I've been really busy lately. Couple busy-ness with laziness, and you get zero new blogs, no doubt a sharp disappointment to my four loyal readers. So, here's something I wrote for MonkeyBicycle, which is an excellent lit/humor site you should visit daily, if not hourly. Anyway, here ya go, four readers!

THE BEGINNINGS OF TEN STORIES ABOUT PONIES

By

Wendy Molyneux

ONE
I saw the pony there, just standing there, just standing in the rain. And that’s when I knew that I was going to leave my wife.

TWO
At the time this all happened I was on the run from this mean-ass pony named Chad. I owed Chad thirty thousand dollars, and I was thirty thousand dollars short.

THREE
I still remember that one hot summer. The way the heat made the cars seem to shimmer as they drove by us on the way to godknowswhere, the way the girls I had known all my life were suddenly women – taller and wiser than us boys - but most of all I remember that night when we all gathered around the black and white TV set to watch as the first pony walked on the moon.

FOUR
On Fridays, the ponies got paid. And after they got paid, they got drunk. And when they got drunk, you bet your ass somebody was going to get hurt or broken.

FIVE
A lot of stuff’s been said in the papers lately about what went down at the Federated Bank that afternoon. Some people say we did it for money. Some say we did it for glory. But none of them know the real story of how it started. It started with a little girl who wanted a pony.

SIX
When that pony walked into my gym and said she wanted to learn how to box, I said no. And I said no for the next thirty days when she walked in asking the same thing. And then for some reason, on the thirty-second day, I said yes.

SEVEN
The street was teeming with people jostling and shouting and waiting for the motorcade to come down the street. And what with all the noise and the excitement and the general chaos, no one thought anything of it when a pony burst past the barricades just as the President’s car came into view.

EIGHT
No one saw the pony rebellion coming. No one but Brent Steel.

NINE
Jeremy Chadwick had eaten one hundred hot dogs in one sitting. He had eaten seventeen blueberry pies at the County Fair, taking home the blue ribbon. He had eaten an eight-pound hamburger, a jar of jalapeños, and a tub of ice cream on a dare in college. One time, to impress a girl, he had even eaten sixteen pennies. But there was one thing, just one thing, that Jeremy had never eaten.

TEN
It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. And there was this fucking pony, too.

So You Want To Be President?

John Warner's very funny new book is on sale, and he's trying to unseat Glenn Beck as number one in political humor today on Amazon.

Let's help that crazy kid live his dream!

Click on the title below and put your $9.99 to work!

So You Want To Be President?

Sex And The City Spoilers

OH MY GOD YOU GUYS!!!!!

I just found out some spoilers for Sex And The City. Do not read on unless you really want to know.

1. Carrie adopts an orphan from China who turns out to be the monster from Cloverfield and they fall in love but then Big shows up and also falls in love with the Cloverfield monster and then everybody dies.

2. Samantha turns out to be a dude. Everybody dies.

3. Miranda plots to assassinate the President, but then it turns out that the President is also plotting to assassinate Miranda. Oh my god! Everyone dies.

4. Charlotte dies, then comes back from the dead and kills everyone.

5. Mr. Big has three balls.

Brad and Angelina, Please Be Aware That I Am Available For Adoption

Dear Brad and Angelina,

I am writing this letter to officially notify you that I am currently available for adoption.

I know that you like your family to be as diverse as possible, and you’ve done a great job achieving that goal thus far. But I believe that in your search for ethnic diversity, you may have neglected another concern. All of your children are, well, children. And it’s time to start thinking about adopting someone a little bit older. Namely, me.

Why adopt an older woman such as myself? Well, for starters, I will appreciate you. All of your children think that it’s normal to jet around the world on private planes staying in fancy hotels and pooping their pants in chauffeured limousines. I’d be surprised if they even said thank you. I, on the other hand, don’t even need to stay in a hotel. I will be happy just to have the run of one of your many homes. Perhaps the one in Malibu that Brad decorated for the kids, or your apartment in Paris.

I know that you might be worried that as I am a full grown adult, I will not need you. Let me reassure you that I am very needy. Should you require further proof of this, my husband will be happy to provide corroboration. Ask him specifically about how I insist that he buy me stuffed animals and let me call him “Daddy.”

Unlike your smaller children, I will not one day embarrass you by turning into a drugged-out club kid. Unless places such as Hyde and Winston’s start admitting overweight married nobodies with anxiety disorders, we are in the clear there. I can promise you that I do all of my excessive drinking in the privacy of my own home, or, in this case, one of your homes. And if I do poop my pants in one of your chauffeured limousines, I will not only say "thank you," I will probably say it in an eCard.

Finally, yes, I am willing to change my name. I know that “Wendy” is a little pedestrian for your clique, so be aware that I will change my name to any of the following:

Harajuku Lovers Jolie-Pitt
Space Needle Jolie-Pitt
Botswana
Haverford
Paloma
Monkeyface McGee
Shiloh

Please let me know your decision as soon as possible.

Best,
Wendy

Let's Just Be Friends: A Letter To My Mother

Dear Mom,

There’s no easy way to say this. I know we’ve had a long relationship, and we’ve had a lot of ups and downs. You’ve really meant a lot to me, and I wouldn’t trade our time together for anything. But, the truth is, I’m just not at a place in my life where I can be in a long term relationship. So, I really want to ask you, Mom: Can we just be friends?

I’m not saying that I don’t want to see you anymore, it’s just that I wouldn’t be seeing you as, you know, my Mom. We could still hang out, especially with the friends that we have in common, like Jenny, and Richie, and Dad.

I know that we all want to put labels on relationships, but I think that’s bogus. We don’t need to be “Mom” and “daughter,” we can just be, you know, cool. When I see you, I promise to give you a nod, and that nod means “what up, playa?” but it doesn’t mean that you can call me whenever you want, or show people pictures of me when I was a wrestling cheerleader, okay? Great.

I know you’ll probably be wondering, is this about some other mom? Am I going to start seeing a new mom? But seriously, this isn’t about that. I just don’t want the responsibility of having a mom right now. It’s not you, it’s me. Maybe I’m going through a selfish phase, but we’re all selfish sometimes. Like remember that time you wanted me to set the table for my own birthday party because you were busy making home-made cannelloni and wrapping my new iPhone – that was pretty selfish too. I had to stop drinking for a few minutes and do something boring. So, see, you aren’t perfect either.

Anyway, I guess I’ll come by next week and get all the stuff I have left at your house, like my books, my bong and my three-year-old-daughter. And when I see you, let’s try not to make a big scene. Remember, we can totally talk on email, and if you ever need me, well, you’ve got four other kids.

Sincerely,

Wendy

Oh, hi.

I'm in New York City, just like that monster from Cloverfield!

Spoiler alert -- I will also destroy New York, especially its attractive twenty-somethings!

A few items of interest. A little post on McSweeney's today here:

Link: A LETTER FROM DR. PHIL

And there's a link on the page with the info about where I'm reading/signing tonight with fellow TOW authors Sarah Walker and Jason Roeder.

Please come on down if you live in New York and are an attractive twenty-something. Remember, if I don't devour you, you just weren't cute enough.

SOME AFFIRMATIONS FROM MY BOOK

Remember, it isn't what you're eating, it's that you're eating.

Help me help you hate you.

Remember, no one else can love you until you hate yourself!

You're not just saying "I do," you're saying "fuck you," to single ladies everywhere.

Remember, he's not your husband, he's your "grown-up daddy!"

I love you. Just kidding.

Ninja loves me, will kill me soon.

From the TOW Books site:

February 6, 2008

For immediate release: Ninja loves Wendy Molyneux, will kill her soon.

The Ninja from Ask A Ninja got his deadly hands on a copy of Wendy Molyneux's book, Everything Is Wrong With You, and here's what he had to say:


"This book made me laugh out loud while I was on a mission. I am going to kill Wendy Molyneux. I look forward to killing the author of this book with this book. I love irony in literature. And, if you would like to point out that that is not ironic, I would be glad to kill you too. This book gets my highest rating. Five ninja stars through the head of the author."

I have the answers!

Um, somebody just accidentally found my blog by googling "are unicorns real or fake?"

Um, how real is this shit?

Television

I love TV.

I don't know if it's because I was television-deprived growing up, but I find TV more exciting than the average bear.

So, what's on that's any good these days? Well, lots!

First of all, if you didn't catch Mad Men in its original airing, I order you to check it out. It has all the great writing of The Sopranos, and all the sexiness. Sure, people don't get the shit beat out of them as much, but it's still pretty awesome.

The new Terminator show on Fox is actually good. Summer Glau makes one sexy robot.

Breaking Bad, also on AMC, definitely has potential. It's the only show about Crystal Meth you could ever maybe possibly love.

In Treatment on HBO. Definitely not for everyone, but Gabriel Byrne is fantastic in this show. I think the first week may have seemed a little fakey, but I think it will get better over time as the actors relax into their characters.

30 Rock. If you aren't watching 30 Rock, I can't even look you in the eye...I mean...via blog...you know...with my blog eyes.

Battlestar Galactica. Netflix the miniseries from Sci-fi, then all of the first three seasons. Even if you don't like Science Fiction, I promise you'll like this.

Damages. Creepy. Excellent.

You'll notice that there's only one real comedy on this list, and I think it's because 30 Rock is so far outstripping the competition that mentioning any other comedy alongside it just doesn't seem right. Goes to show that comedy is actually a lot harder to pull of than drama...if only Oscar voters realized that.