Those Amazing Dolphins!!!

Wow! Those adorable dolphins are back in the news! The seemingly harmless, gentle sea critters have set the scientific community on its ear once again, per a recent story ....Diet Soap obtained today from Internacional Press Associatos. According to Dr. Marcello Abogado, Chief Scientist at the West Indies Aquatic Science Centre, March 24, 2008 marked a milestone in a recent breakthrough in the interpretation of the mammal's infamous "echolocation clicks" and "burst-pulsed signature whistles" previously thought to be a form of self-identification among dolphins, the "Mayors of the Sea."

Dr. Abogado explained, "Today, we have successfully beta tested a complex computerized system for translating dolphin whistles into human language, a feat once thought of as impossible."

The news conference took an unexpected turn, however, when Dr. Abogado balked at the possibility of sharing these amazing new insights with the general public for surprising reasons. "After translating numerous streams of 'dolphin-speak', we have concluded that releasing of these transcripts to the populace-at-large could cause unforeseen problems." When pressed for an explanation, Dr. Abogado simply said, "Look, all we've recorded so far appears to be a crude mixture of racial epithets and curse words. One of the scientist's children accidentally heard the translation and, well, he's shown unusual changes in his behavior." Later, Dr. Abogado explained the boy, a 6 year old, has taken to smearing and ingested his own feces.

Other fun facts divulged by Dr. Abogado:

1. Aside from humans, dolphins are the only animal who manufactures highly addictive drugs. Known among scientists as "crubble", this substance is 10 times more potent than crack-cocaine and is derived from an precise mixture of plankton, ammonia, and baking powder!

2. Dolphins often sexually abuse sea animals much smaller than themselves, not for sexual gratification, but for their own personal amusement!

3. Dolphins are notorious smearers of feces!

4. Dolphins are responsible for 350 human deaths per year!

5. Dolphins store unused crubble in a nasal air sac and quickly snuff it through their blow hole, resulting in a near instant high that can last as long a 8 hours!

6. The only good dolphin is a dead dolphin!

Well, well, well...

Seems like Hillary's got some explaining to do.

Recently, the National Archives released over 11,000 pages of Mrs. Clinton's schedule when she was first lady. Here are some of the shocking revelations contained in the documents:

1) When Cuba Gooding Jr. was winning his Oscar for Best Supporting Actor at the 1997 Academy Awards ceremony for his role as "Billy" in "Jerry McGuire", Mrs. Clinton was hosting an "Oscar Party" at the White House. What else is she hiding?

2) Mrs. Clinton's schedule reveals that on June 3, 1998, while Germany was waking up to news of the Eschede train disaster, the world's deadliest high-speed train disaster, Hillary Rodham Clinton was hosting a consortium on children's health care. Guess she cares about health care, that is, unless you're a German child heading home from the hospital in a high-speed train, right, Mrs. Clinton?

3) While Bill Clinton was in a closed NSA meeting, Hillary Rodham Clinton, potentially the next leader of the free world, was reading the newspaper while, get this, eating breakfast!!! "Sorry, Ahmadinejad. I'm sure it's an emergency - it's 3 fucking a.m.! But I still got half of the funnies to get through." Right, Mrs. Clinton?

Well, well, well. Well, well, well. Well?

I win!!!

Wow! I can't believe my good luck! I just got a call from my lawyer. Guess what! The government of a small island nation (that I am prohibited from naming under terms of the settlement) was forced to cough up an extra $4200 to yours truly (before my lawyer takes his cut, of course). Roughly .005 percent of the total settlement (I can't disclose the exact amount) meted out approximately 11 years ago, this unexpected windfall came about after the government of my home country launched an exhaustive accounting investigation into the distribution of all monies awarded by this shitty backwards country to citizens of my equally shitty country (but with a larger military).

You know, maybe they have finally made up for their negligence that resulted in the loss of my hand and my father's life. Just think of all the shit I can do with this much cash! Here are a few ideas:

1) I can put a down payment on a Skidoo (finally).
2) I can afford a week long vacation visiting the empty square of scorched earth that used to house a giant warehouse for cheap carom products and other knock-offs.
3) I can rent a billboard downtown and erect a 2 story high hand giving God the finger.
4) Does "240 Webkinz" mean anything to anyone out there?
5) I can fuck the Governor.

Do you believe this shit?

Milestone!

Everyone! Let's celebrate me!

The last post was my official 100th post! Not only that, I have now hit the 1000 pages viewed mark!

Here are some other notable milestones I have recently reached:

1) Mother has been sober for 14 days now - that's 2 consecutive weeks.
2) I haven't menstruated in 23 days!
3) I still have a robotic hand!
4) I have now attended 10 psychotherapy sessions with a man who thinks I have a personality disorder!
5) I have been officially diagnosed with personality disorder for the past 48 days!
6) No one has one the "Dear Mr. Jesus" contest yet!
7) I only have 4 plastic novelty hook and ...Diet Soap butter knife sets left!
8) I now own two copies of Richard Marx's autobiography, Life on the Dotted Line, both given as gag gifts from my dumb frends.
9) Honey Nut Cheerios are the new Cinnamon Toast Crunches.
10) I can't tell when healthcare professionals are hitting on me versus just doing their job!

Well, let's hope there's 100 more posts to celebrate. Send me a congratulations comment and you just might find yourself in the drawing for a plastic novelty hook and butter knife set poorly autographed by yours truly.

Love and rockets.

Open Letter to Governor Spitzer

Dear Client 9,

Wait! It's not too late. We can still salvage your term. Here are the top three ideas that came out of my recent pow-wow with some of your country's greatest political thinkers. Our plan in general? Divert your constituents' attention. Here's how:

1) Invade a terrorist state. My vote is for Connecticut.

2) Have staffers leak a story about how a nondescript dark-skinned male abandoned the prostitute in the back of your cab. Use key phrases in your description to ensure believability such as "dark-skinned", "medium build" and "knit cap". "What was I supposed to do? She had been abandoned!"

3) Don't run from the problem. Turn it on it's head - confuse them. Your personal plight underscores the urgent need for your unheralded initiative - mandatory driver's licenses for all illegal commercial sex workers.

If it helps, I know how you must be feeling. I, myself, have been called a hooker (by my brother) on account of my prosthetic hand that used to be a hook and is now an iLimb. I, too, come from a broken home (on account of my father perishing in the warehouse fire what took my hand and my mother subsequently developed a drinking problem which has, for the moment, resolved status post her hysterical-ectomy, which is not, as one might presume, a good thing) and I am an aspiring singer (or whatever).

Spitzer Swallows?

Swallows, although I've never had sex with live birds before...

Sorry, everyone. This is a private matter. It's between me, my wife, and 3 million people who voted for me. Would you judge me any better if I said it was a "high-class" prostitution ring?

Come on, Spitzer. You could at least have gone with a prostitution co-op.

______________

See, Homeless, I can be political too.

Say it ain't sober!

In addition to the other weird shit that Mother has been doing since quitting the booze, recently she has begun awkwardly trying to strike up conversations with me. Here are actual segues and conversation-starters Mommy has used with me since her "procedure":

1. Bernard says ducks and the like descended from dinosaurs. Can you imagine, Olive (1)?

2. Tell me something. Dr. DiClemente (2) said you might have phantom pains periodically (3).

3. Fossil makes some snappy watches (4).

4. Have you ever seen really hardcore porn - you know, where the actors swear at each other and wear masks (5)?

5. I don't know about you, but I could murder a champagne truffle (6) about now. Where is that boy (7)?

Please, God, it was easier when she was drunk all the time.

________________

Footnotes:

1. Can I imagine you and Bernard having sex? Because that's all I can think about when you mention this creep's name.

2. Dr. DiClemente is the asshole who couldn't "save" my hand.

3. Was that a question.

4. Since when did Mother frequent Dendlo's Shopping Mall?

5. I...

6. Actually, a Teuscher's champagne truffle sounds pretty good.

7. Mother's pet name for all waitpersons, even when they are female and adult, as in this case.

Move over, Bacon...

I think Mother is starting to crack. I know I am missing her alcohol-induced blackouts. Last night - this is actually awkward for me to reveal - last night, Mommy came into my room and asked if she could sleep with me.

She is the only person who could make a 6000 sq. ft. apartment feel like a studio.

After the tone...

Here are 3 of the 4 actual messages on my answering machine at this moment:

1. Olive, sweetie, it's Mummy. Oh, honey, pick up, I need you. Bernard has locked us out of his Lexus and, honey, I'm afraid we're going to be mugged or molested in some way. Could you meet us at the Uptown Theatre with his spare keys? Lunch is on us.

Where to begin. Mother has Bernard's spare keys to his car. Hmmm... Mother is afraid of being "molested" at 11 am in the downtown theatre district. Mother has not slurred any words (e.g., "schweedie" for "sweetie"). I did not pick up.

2. Hey, Ma. Could you stop calling me at Jackie's place? You're freaking her out. Use my cell. Don't call Jackie's cell. Call me directly. 'Kay? Don't call me at Jackie's. Bye.

My brother, Oliver, referring to his loser girlfriend. Jackie has 2 kids from 3 different fathers. Jackie has a tattoo of an angel reading the Bible on her shoulder. An angel... reading... the Bible.

3. [Not for you].

No comment.

4. Yeah, this is Robert from Levon's Liquor and Grocery. Your prescription is ready and I checked with the manager - we don't carry anti-fungal toilet guards.

No fucking idea. Don't think I want to know. On second thought, I'll find out and let you all know what that was all about. I feel obligated

Hope you enjoyed and, hey, call me sometime.

Mommy 'Complex'

Well, Mother's hysterectomy has been a fun time for all of us at ...Diet Soap and we hope you have enjoyed the graphic illustrations and anecdotes about this hilarious procedure. But, alas, all good things must end. Mother has had rather painful trips to the bathroom only to be diagnosed by her quack with 'Complex Diarrhea.' According to this idiot (I accompanied my Mommy who seems to have grown 20 years older now that she has been robbed of her daily White Russian intake (a sober Mother will be detailed in a later post)), there are four kinds of diarrhea. I won't bore you, but Mumsy has "inflammatory diarrhea" that occurs when there is damage to the mucosal lining or brush border, prolly as a result of the hysterectomy. Normally, I wouldn't care - I would continue reading Variety or playing with my PSP while she moans in the bathroom. But, of course, nothing is easy with Mother. She wants me to "keep her company" while she sits there. So I have to talk to her through the closed door and read aloud from People Magazine (which is fucking hysterical). Should clear up with antibiotics...

Funny shit - literally.

Ask Olive!

Dear Olive,

First of all, let me just say how great we here in Boca Raton, Florida think you are. You're experiences as a not-so-young-anymore socialite amputee have been like a ray of sunshine in this otherwise dull and depressing place we here call "The Sunshine State." Normally I wouldn't bother someone like you with my troubles, but I didn't know to whom else I could turn [editor's note: to whom else I could turn, can you believe this shit?]. Here's my query:

I have a friend who was scheduled to be inducted into the Hall of Fame in his or her profession, a very important and inspiring profession that touches people in profound and significant ways. The problem is that before he or she could receive the honor, the invitation was reneged after he or she was caught "receiving" something else in the backstage bathroom before the ceremony.

Is there any hope for my friend to take his or her rightful place in the shrine of his or her profession?

Former Dancing Great,

Gail Horning

______________


Dear Gail,

You can't give the backstage bathroom attendant at the Boca Raton Dancing Hall of Fame a lap dance before the induction ceremony, forget to lock or even close the door, and expect there to be no consequences (especially at your age), if that's what you're asking.

Gail Horning Fan and Aging Socialite,

Olive Duster

Uh... No.

Get this - Dr. Assram calls me - on a Saturday - and here's what he has to say:

"Hello, Olive. How are we today?"

This is his standard annoying greeting.

"Fine."

"I am calling because I wanted to see if you would be available to discuss your experiences with the iLimb at a brown bag luncheon we are hosting at the clinic on Thursday."

Dr. Assram doesn't believe in contractions so he actually says "I am" instead of "I'm" like most people. Also, I would not be surprised if he never eats, sleeps, or leaves the hospital.

"Uh..."

Brown bag luncheon? Are you fucking serious? Don't you know that I hate people?

"Many of our residents have not had direct contact with this technology and I thought it would be a good experience for them to meet one of our success stories."

Can I be drunk?

"I..."

"It would be a 45 minute luncheon and all you would have to do is answer their questions, demonstrate the technology, and allow me to remove and attach the prosthetic."

Demonstrate the technology? How? By doing Cat's Cradle? By threading a needle? Maybe I could cut an apple or scratch myself.

"Olive? What do you say?"