Right Hand Man

Posted on February 2, 2012 by

During my dad’s 30 years in business, there were only a few people who worked for him, but none of them for as long as his right hand man, Mr. John Fatz. He was such a regular fixture in our basement that he was like family, like an uncle or something. I hadn’t seen him in 20 years, but he was at my dad’s funeral, and my whole family was really happy he was there.  He and my dad met sometime in the 60’s and started working together in 1974 up until my dad sold the business. He always had a very dry and dark sense of humor, as you would expect, considering that when it comes to dead bodies, I think this man has seen it all….even more than my dad.

I knew he had been in Vietnam, but wasn’t exactly sure what he did, so I asked him. In his words:

“I SPENT TWO YEARS IN THE ARMY, HAVING BEEN DRAFTED IN AUG. OF 1966. I WAS 23 YEARS OLD AND MARRIED AND OUT OF COLLEGE WHEN I WAS DRAFTED. IN JANUARY OF 1967 I HAD ORDERS TO VIETNAM. I WAS ASSIGNED TO THE 25TH INFANTRY DIVISION IN THE TOWN OF CU CHI, REPUBLIC OF VIETNAM. THIS WAS ABOUT 30 MILES NORTHWEST OF SAIGON UP NEAR THE CAMBODIAN BORDER. SINCE I WAS A LICENSED FUNERAL DIRECTOR (HAVING JUST GOTTEN MY LICENSE) THEY PUT ME IN A GRAVES REGISTRATION PLATOON. GRAVES REGISTRATION IS THE MORTUARY BRANCH OF THE ARMY, “GR” FOR SHORT. OUR RESPONSIBILTY WAS TO RECOVER, IDENTIFY AND ESCORT DOWN TO THE U.S. GOVERMENT MORTUARY OUTSIDE OF SAIGON, ALL U.S. PERSONEL WHO DIED IN OUT SECTOR. WE WERE A FORWARD COLLECTION POINT OUT IN THE BOON DOCKS. WE HANDLED OVER 800 US TROOPS WHILE I WAS THERE , WE ALSO HANDLED NON US DEATHS ALSO, BOTH CIVILIAN AND ENEMY TROOPS. I WAS THERE FOR A YEAR.

IN GRAVES REGISTRATION WE TRIED TO ID REMAINS BY VISUAL OBSERVATION FROM MEMBERS OF THEIR UNIT. IF THAT WASN’T POSSIBLE, WE HAD TO RELY ON FINGER PRINTS, AND IN A LOT OF CASES WE WOULD JUST GET A ROSTER REPORT FROM THEIR UNIT AND FIND OUT WHO WAS MISSING.THEN WE WOULD GET THE MAN’S MEDICAL RECORDS AND SEND THEM WITH THE REMAINS TO THE ARMY MORTUARY IN SAIGON , THEY WOULD DO BLOOD WORK AND CHECK FINGER PRINTS. THEY ALSO HAD ANTHROPOLIGISTS ON STAFF AND THEY WOULD LOOK INTO BODY STRUCTURE AND SO FORTH. ALSO EVERY G.I. IS SUPPOSE TO WEAR DOG TAGS, PLUS YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO WRITE YOUR NAME ON ALL YOUR ARTICLES OF CLOTHING, INCLUDING BOOTS. SOMETIMES IT TOOK A FEW DAYS TO GET A ID REPORT.  WE DID NOT HAVE REFRIGERATION WHERE WE WERE, SO WE USUALLY GOT THEM TO SAIGON WITH-IN 24 HRS.”

You see what I mean? If you have seen dead bodies from war, how much worse can it get? After that, a regular old dead person would probably seem like nothing.  I have major respect for him.

Knowing my dad’s motivation for getting into the strange funeral business, I asked Mr. Fatz what his motivation was for it. It turns out that his mom lived in a funeral home when she was growing up and both his grandfather and great-grandfather were undertakers too, so it was always of interest to him.

One of my stand-out memories of Mr. Fatz involves him embalming a body. He was in the morgue and I went down the basement looking for my dad. When you walked down the steps, you couldn’t automatically see into the morgue, you would have to go all the way down and turn right to see what was happening, which I would rarely do. I would usually just stand on the steps, where my dad would dress the bodies. When we were little, he would never let us see the bodies naked. It wasn’t until we were older that he allowed us to see them before they were dressed, but trust me, if you’ve seen one old dead naked person, you’ve seen em’ all and it’s not something you want to see anyway.

So this one time, I called out for my dad and Mr. Fatz said, “He’s not down here,” and I said “okay” and started to walk back up the stairs. Mr. Fatz said, “Wait, Celeste come here.” Now, I was a teenager by this point, so I was well aware of his sense of humor, and was somewhat trepidatious about going back downstairs but I was also curious as to why he would tell me to come back down, so I did. I turned the corner and looked into the morgue to see a body missing half a leg, and the part of the leg that was still there looked like it had been chewed off or something. It was a sight from a horror movie and I had the appropriate reaction, which was one of shock and disgust. The funny part is that Mr. Fatz did that for his own amusement because he knew what my reaction would be. He started laughing as I quickly ran up the stairs saying “That wasn’t funny,” but of course, it was.

I went and told my siblings who also thought it was funny.

When I asked him to tell me some things  he remembered while was working in our house, he wrote me the following:

“HERE’S ANOTHER LITTLE DARK STORY FROM THE LIFE OF THE J.P. DONOHUE FUNERAL HOME.

MANY YEARS AGO , PROBABLY BACK IN THE 1980′S WHEN YOUR PARENTS HAD GONE TO MAINE, I WAS COVERING AND I RECEIVED A CALL FROM THE ANSWERING SERVICE THAT THE CALLER WANTED TO TALK TO YOUR MOTHER. I RETURNED THE CALL. THE PERSON WHO I STARTED TO TALK TO HAD MET YOUR MOTHER A NUMBER OF YEARS BEFORE WHEN SHE WAS A NURSE IN THE ACCIDENT WARD OF FITZGERALD MERCY HOSPITAL.  HE TOLD ME HIS NAME, WHICH I HAVE FORGOTTEN, MAYBE YOUR MOTHER CAN REMEMBER, BUT HE SAID HE WAS GOING TO COMMIT SUICIDE IN A LITTLE WHILE BUT HE WANTED TO TALK TO CISSIE. I EXPLAINED THAT I COULDN’T GET AHOLD OF HER. I THEN PROCEEDED TO TALK TO THE GUY FOR THE NEXT 2 HOURS TRYING TO TALK HIM OUT OF KILLING HIMSELF. WHILE I WAS ON THE PHONE WITH HIM I HAD MY WIFE CALL THE DARBY POLICE ON OUR OTHER PHONE AND TELL THEM WHAT WAS HAPPENING. THE POLICE SAID THEY COULD DO NOTHING UNTIL HE ACTUALLY KILLED HIMSELF. SO MUCH FOR THE POLICE. I FINALLY DID CONVINCE HIM NOT TO DO IT.

UNFORTUNATELY ABOUT A YEAR OR TWO LATER HE DID KILL HIMSELF BY JUMPING OFF THE DANNAHOWER BRIDGE IN NORRISTOWN, PA. AND WE DID BURY HIM. WITH A FUNERAL HOME YOU JUST NEVER KNOW WHAT YOU’RE GOING TO GET. THE FULL MOON BRINGS OUT THE WORST IN PEOPLE.”

I would really like to thank Mr. John Fatz for his stories. My whole family has always loved him and my dad and he had an excellent working relationship for many years.

Well, I hope my little blog is shedding some light on the lives of funeral directors because like I said before, it takes a special kind of person to do that job.

By the way, I ordered Chinese food for dinner last night. If you read the previous blog, you understand why that might be a little surprising. 

 

 

Posted in catholic church, death, family, funeral home, funerals, weird | Tagged , , | 4 Comments

I Left My Heart in San Francisco (except for Chinatown)

Posted on January 31, 2012 by

"I wanna get back to my City by the Bay"

I spent this past weekend in San Francisco, my favorite city in the world.  If you haven’t ever been there, you must go. If for nothing else, go for the exercise you get from walking up those freaking hills. It really is a beautiful city and I’m assuming that’s because there is such a large gay community, because the gays just make everything a little prettier :) .

I actually became the annoying tourist that I complain about everyday on Hollywood Boulevard…you know, standing in the middle of wherever taking pictures and looking at a map, completely oblivious to the people around me. Tough crap, my turn.

Throughout the entire weekend, I only had one negative experience and it wasn’t watching the drunken couple fighting in Golden Gate Park, or the meth addict they were hanging out with. Does meth make you itch all over? Because this guy took his shirt off and was frantically scratching his entire torso. So either he was on some type of drug that makes you itchy, or he had body lice…and judging from his looks, body lice was definitely possible.  If only I had my video camera, I would have filmed YouTube gold.

Anyway, my friend and I decided to have dinner in the wildly popular tourist attraction “Chinatown.” Call me crazy, but this is an overrated area. My thoughts are, “if you’ve been to one Chinese restaurant, you’ve been to them all.” And the culture? Sure it’s cool I guess. Little shops with kimonos, Buddha statues and flip flops, but it’s not like I’ve never seen a kimono in my life. It was alright, but maybe it was just tainted by the bad restaurant experience I had.

Overrated I tell ya

Let’s face it, Chinese people don’t share the same attitude when it comes to waiting tables or the restaurant business in general. Did you ever ask to substitute noodles for rice at a Chinese restaurant? Well forget it, because it’s never gonna happen. The truth is, they don’t give a shit if you’re a happy customer and this isn’t the first time I experienced this. And  having been a waitress many times, I am highly critical of restaurant service because I know what good service is, not that I always gave it, but I know what it is.

First, my friend and I went to a place called “The Empress of China” that was at the top of possibly the tallest building in the middle of Chinatown. We took the elevator up to the top and sat down at a squeaky table, looked at the over-priced menu and decided to leave. Twenty-five bucks for a Chinese entrée? I don’t think so. We moo-goo gai panned our ass out of there.

We left and were walking around looking for another place, but they all seemed so dodgy. And I’m a little leery of Chinese joints anyway because I’ve watched shows about China on the National Geographic channel, and I can tell you that the Chinese will eat almost anything. No offense, but it’s true. A billion people is a lot to feed, so I guess they will eat whatever they can get their hands on.

We stopped at a hotel and asked the bell hop where the “tourists” (i.e. white people) like to eat in Chinatown.  He said in a Chinese accent, “House of Nanking.” We walked a few blocks up and were seated right away in the small, dark, dingy restaurant, where the waitress greeted us by saying “Whatchu want?” I admit, I was taken aback. Where was the “Hi, welcome to our restaurant, can I get you a frosty beverage or perhaps some hot Chinese tea?” Oh no, “Whatcu want?” was their idea of service.  We ordered some egg rolls and 2 beers, and the beer wasn’t very cold which irritated me on top of the “whatchu want” shitty greeting.

When we asked for water, they slammed down two plastic cups of tap water with no ice. But when we wanted to order our entrées is when things got ugly. Our waitress was literally three feet away at another table talking with her Chinese friends and completely ignoring us. We kept trying to get her attention but she continued to ignore, so  we moved on to trying to get the attention of any waiter, but all of them had that way of avoiding eye contact, therefore trying to make it seem like they don’t see you. Yeah, I know that trick. You’re not fooling me. This went on for a good 15 minutes and we were just trying to get someone’s attention so we could order more food. Finally, my friend practically grabbed one of the waiters and said, “Can we order something?”

The waiter’s response was, “Whatchu want?” with a major tone of irritation, which I did not appreciate. First, I smiled at the brazen rudeness, looked at the menu for a second, and then I looked at him and said, “You know what? I don’t want anything, this place stinks!”

I was so annoyed by that point and figured that they don’t have a problem being rude so why should I? I take pride in the fact that I can so easily stoop to someone else’s level. My friend and I got up, walked towards the door and on the way out,  I was shoulder to shoulder with our first waitress, who was still chatting with her Chinese friends, and who I also think was the owner or manager, and I said, “Your place stinks!” and  I said it loud enough for the whole place to hear. Do you think she cared? I don’t…or do you think they are out of business already?  We ended up going to a place that I went to my first time in San Francisco about 15 years ago named “Brandy Ho’s.” I couldn’t believe it was still there. That actually sounds like a lounge where hookers drink brandy, doesn’t it? But at least they were relatively nice and the food was good, but overall, if you go to San Francisco, don’t bother eating in Chinatown. All of the sudden this turned into a restaurant review blog.  

I had another experience at a Chinese restaurat where I ordered something, took a couple of bites and it was just nasty, so I told the waitress I wasn’t going to eat it. She took it away but when the check came, she had charged me for it. Now, keep in mind, when I waited tables, if a customer only took a bite or two and decided they didn’t like it, we took it back and took it off the check. But not the Chinese. So I told her I wasn’t paying and she said “You orda, you pay!” (orda is order).  I said, “I didn’t eat it, so I’m not paying for it, and she just kept on saying “You orda, you pay!” So I had to explain to her how it works in American restaurants. We are spoiled little piggies who get what we want, and if we don’t eat something, we don’t pay for it, which I didn’t…so sayonara! (yeah, I know that’s Japanese, but I don’t know “goodbye” in Chinese).

Nothing is worse than bad restaurant service. After all that’s what you’re going out for isn’t it, to have someone bring you food and kiss your ass at the same time? Damn right. I had to do it, so the Chinese people working in restaurants should have to too.

But aside from that, San Francisco was great. Everything about that city is cool (minus Chinatown and their shitty restaurant service.)

Yay! I'm a douchey tourist

I’m amazed how those cable cars get up those hills, because it always feel like it might roll back as you’re hanging off the side like a douchey tourist. The Haight/Asbury area is really great with plenty of remnants from the glorious hippie days and the music scene of the 60’s. 

I just wanted to tell you where I was because that’s why I haven’t responded to my comments in a timely manner. Did you have a good weekend? Did you eat at a Chinese restaurant and get bad service?

Maybe I should just stick to Chinese takeout.

By the way, this is nothing against Chinese people in general, just their restaurant service. Have a great day!

You orda, you pay!

Posted in celebrities, death, family, Hollywood, weird | Tagged , , , , | 8 Comments

Unhappy Friday

Posted on January 27, 2012 by

This isn’t the typical “Happy Friday” I usually celebrate, because as I was scrolling through Facebook  this morning, so I can start my day off with judging people by their status updates, I saw that someone had posted that Robert Hegyes died. You may or may not remember that I waited on him way back when and told him that I had a crush on him when he played “Epstein” on “Welcome Back Kotter. He died of a heart attack and was only 60 years old :(

R.I.P.

“He was best known for his role as Juan Epstein — full name: Juan Luis Pedro Phillipo de Huevos Epstein — on the 1970s sitcom “Welcome Back, Kotter” from 1975 to 1979. Perpetually scheming and always ready with a self-written note signed “Epstein’s Mother” to explain his school absences, Epstein stood out among a group of characters that included the super-cocky womanizer Vinnie Barbarino (played by a young John Travolta) and hip but beleaguered high school teacher Gabe Kotter (played by Gabe Kaplan).”

(The standout phrase in that paragraph is “the  super-cocky womanizer Vinnie Barbarino, played by John Travolta”   Womanizer?)

But I hope Epstein’s family is okay.

Anyway,  on top of Epstein dying, the Hot Rod also went to its final resting place this week. I admit, I cried a little bit. They towed it away while I was at work, which was probably for the best, but it was kind of like coming home and your parents telling you they had the family dog put down. You knew it was gonna happen, but still sad to see the empty food bowl. The food bowl being a metaphor for the empty parking spot.

R.I.P. my dear old friend....

But on a brighter note, my brother left for Singapore and gave me his car while he’s gone….and it’s a fast, little sports car that’s really fun to drive…especially without insurance. Just kidding. He’s in Singapore for a stunt job, and as much as I will miss him over the next year, the car makes up for his absence, especially when I’m driving 90mph.

I hope you have a great weekend. :)

Posted in celebrities, death, family, funeral home, funerals, Hollywood, weird | Tagged , , , , | 10 Comments

Dexter and Putrefaction

Posted on January 25, 2012 by

The other night I was watching Dexter, one of my favorite shows. If you’re not familiar with Dexter, it’s a show that airs on Showtime, and the main character, Dexter, played by Michael C. Hall, is a blood spatter analyst for the Miami Police department by day and a serial killer by night. But the catch is that Dexter only kills bad guys.

Interestingly enough, Michael C. Hall played the funeral director on Six Feet Under, and I didn’t really like him on that, but I LOVE him as Dexter. The show is dark and suspenseful and I have a crush on him. If Dexter was my boyfriend, I’d help him kill people.

Anyway, at a crime scene in a recent episode (because Dexter always shows up when there’s blood), he was explaining to the cops how a body putrefies shortly after death, and it reminded me that I mentioned putrefaction in another post and would tell you what it is.   Hold on people, because this is pretty rough. If you’re eating, read this later. .

The SMELL, not the sight is the most distinctive sign of a putrefying body.

The first sign of putrefaction is a greenish skin discoloration that appears on the lower, right side of the stomach area, and this usually happens within two to three days after death. The discoloration spreads and covers the stomach, chest and upper thighs. Most times, this comes along with a really putrid smell. A breakdown of red blood cells and intestinal gas causes this. The bacteria in the body, especially in the colon, is what mostly contributes to decomposition, although while alive, this bacteria helps with digestion.

Do I look like I smell?

The intestinal bacteria in a dead body produces large amounts of really, horrible smelling gas that gets into the blood vessels and tissue. “It is this gas that bloats the body, turns the skin from green to purple to black, makes the tongue and eyes protrude, and often pushes the intestines out through the vagina and rectum.”

WHAT?? (when I was reading about this, that all most made me fall off of my chair. Thank God you’re dead when this happens, otherwise that could be a really horrible experience.  “Sorry, I took so long in the bathroom, my intestines fell out of my vagina and into the toilet.”)

Anyway, this gas also causes more fun things like foul-smelling, bloodstained fluid to come out of the nose, mouth and other orifices. When a body is dead for about a week, a majority of the body is discolored and large blisters appear. The skin loosens and comes off in sheets, (referred to as “skin skips” which I covered in another blog.) As the organs and tissue decay, they produce large amounts of nasty gas, and by the second week, the stomach, scrotum, breasts and tongue swell up. And let’s face it, NO ONE likes a swolen scrotum.

After three to four weeks, the hair, nails and teeth loosen and the internal organs rupture and liquefy. But the internal organs decompose at different rates, so even after a year, the uterus and prostate are often still intact. Unless of course, you’re Michelle Duggar, the woman who has given birth to 20 kids. Her uterus must be destroyed by now. But under normal circumstances, this is one way pathologists can identify the sex of a corpse.

No one will recognize my uterus when I'm dead...

We all came from the same uterus...what do you think it looks like?

So that’s “putrefaction”.  It was interesting, right? Gross, but still interesting.

And Michelle Duggar is a freak, right? She’s totally contributing to overpopulation. It’s her fault we reached 7 billion people on earth. I wish Dexter would take care of her for me…I’d be happy to help.

Have a pleasant smelling day! :)

Posted in celebrities, death, funerals, weird, funeral home, family | Tagged , , , , | 7 Comments

Dancing With the Stars (sort of)

Posted on January 23, 2012 by

I mentioned in another post that I worked at a place called Capezio, (where a flock of birds had diarrhea on me).   It was on the corner of Vine and Yucca, one block north of Hollywood Boulevard, and a lot of celebrities came in there. Just so you know, it’s not there anymore. In fact, the shelf life of anywhere in LA is short, especially clubs. Remember the movie “Night at the Roxbury”? I worked at the Roxbury for about two weeks and then it was gone.

While I was working at Capezio, I had the exciting pleasure of meeting Fayard Nicholas of the famous “Nicholas Brothers”. Of course, by that point, he was practically senile and probably didn’t even know his own name, but to meet him was still exciting.  By the way, if you’re not a tap dancer, but I’m assuming most of you are, the Nicholas Brothers were some of the pioneers of tap dancing. They were absolutely amazing. They were main attractions at the famous “Cotton Club” and because of that, they ended up in Hollywood movies.

  AMAZING! You have to watch this video!

While writing this, I just saw a promo for the upcoming show “Smash” and Anjelica Houston is in it. She also came into Capezio one time. She was very cool, quiet and kept her exceptionally dark sunglasses on the whole time, but it suited her. I think a lot of celebrities who act celebrit-y are annoying, but she was just cool.

Where's my jazz shoe?

Anyway, this one time, Katie Holmes comes strolling in, and this was before she was Tom Cruise’s beard, I mean “wife.” Katie was in the market for some jazz shoes. Why? I don’t know. I was fetching shoes for her and if I remember correctly, she has pretty big feet. She’s tall, about 5’9, very thin, very pretty… and I’m not saying she’s dumb, but she did leave the store without one of her shoes. I mean, how do you come in to a store with the intention of buying a pair of shoes, and only leave with one of them? After she tried the shoes on, I went over to the cash register to ring her up and it wasn’t until she left that I realized she had left one of the jazz shoes behind. She had the box, but only one shoe. Who does that?

Katie Holmes Cruise, that’s who.

She never came back to get the other one either. Do you think Suri seems happy? I’m concerned for her :) .

help!

 

 

Renee Zelwegger came in once too, and this was while she was dating Jim Carrey. How do I know this? Because I read the rag mags in line at the grocery store like the rest of you. She bought Jim Carrey a pair of Jazz shoes too (and I’m sure he was grateful for that Renee). She was really nice though, even though she looks like she’s eating a lemon and looking at the sun at the same time.

Halle Berry came in while she was filming the Dorothy Dandridge movie, and she is as beautiful in person as she is in movies (in case you didn’t know, Dorothy Dandridge was married to Harold Nicholas.) Beautiful skin, really sweet, and possibly unstable. At least that was the vibe I got. We sold dance videos at the store, including ballet, salsa, jazz, tap, etc. She spotted a video called “I Love To Tap” by Bonnie Franklin. If you’re not a child of the 70’s, Bonnie Franklin played the mom on “One Day at a Time.” Who knew she was also a tap dancer? They should have worked that into the show. Single mother by day, burlesque tap dancer by night. Anyway, when Halle saw Bonnie Franklin’s video, she said, “Oh, I love Bonnie Franklin. I loved One Day at a Time.” I said, “Oh really?” because I liked it too way back when. Then she said (in a whispery, nostalgic, weird, dreamy voice) “That was my reality. A single mom, without a father, raising two daughters and trying to make it on her own.”

Whoa! Okay, settle down Halle, this isn’t a therapy session.

I found it so odd that she would just tell a stranger at the cash register some personal info like that, but hey, that’s me. I keep my weird shit to myself…unless of course, I’m on stage or writing a blog. But aside from seeming on the verge of a nervous breakdown, she was really sweet. Remember when she lost it when she won the Oscar? I love award season.  Well, I couldn’t find that clip but this is when she won for Dorothy Dandridge. Beautiful and ummm….stable? You decide. (fast forward to about the 1:04 mark)

Have a maniacal Monday!

Posted in celebrities, Hollywood, weird | Tagged , , , , , , | 12 Comments

Quality TV!

Posted on January 20, 2012 by

Hey Y'allz!

Happy Friday everyone! I was going to write about the first time I went camping, but those plans got derailed after I saw the Dr. Phil show last night. First of all, I only catch Dr. Phil sometimes because it’s on right after Family Feud, which I watch religiously. I’ve loved Family Feud since the 70’s, when Richard Dawson was drinking martinis during commercial breaks and making out with all the women on the show. Remember that? It was always so creepy, but I guess he was just an overly affectionate, drunk game show host, and who doesn’t like that? Maybe Alex Trebek should consider drinking during Jeopardy.

I'm drunk....let's make out.

I have to be honest, because even though I think Dr. Phil is kind of douchey, I get a kick out of his whole psychology mixed in with his hick-ish Texas accent. He says things like “I don’t think y’allz want help.”

“Y’allz?”

Anyway, it was a treat last night. He had a guy on who has “Adult Baby Syndrome.” Do you know what that is? It’s where adults act out and fantasize that they are babies. In this case, “Baby Brett” is a 24 year old man who holds down a job, but happens to bring a pacifier to work with him. He also eats in an adult size high chair, sleeps in a onesie, and had a friend build him an adult size crib. I was completely entertained by this bizarre, yet hilarious disorder, and was a little disappointed that no one was there to see it with me, which is why I have to tell you.

But just when you think it can’t get any weirder, Dr. Phil brings out the girlfriend who spoon feeds Baby Brett, bathes him, talks to him in a baby voice, and he calls her “Mommy.” But the best part? She changes his diapers, and he shits in them.

This is from the show:

Brett says Cat (the girlfriend) mothers him in every way: she cleans up after him when he drools, spits up, wets and dirties his diaper. He adds to the list of his baby habits, saying he gurgles and even throws tantrums.

Ever since I can remember, I’ve liked baby things,” Brett says. “When I see babies, I’m jealous; I wish that was me.”

From 13 to 16 years old, Brett says he faked bed wetting by pouring warm liquid onto himself. It was then, he says, he learned to lose control of his bodily functions.

“Are you wearing a diaper now?” Dr. Phil asks.

“I am wearing a diaper now,” Brett answers. “I wear diapers 24/7.”

He also says he feels a thrill when people see his diaper. “Sometimes, I will go into a store and crouch down so people can see.”

I live for this kind of TV. The weirder, the better. I love that he crouches down so people can see his diaper, as if it’s sexy. Look at me, I’m sexy, I soil myself!

Thanks to our beloved YouTube….look what I found! If this doesn’t make your Friday, I don’t know what will. Enjoy it!!! Have a great weekend too :)

Posted in celebrities, Hollywood, weird | Tagged , , , | 10 Comments

Vote For Me!

Posted on January 18, 2012 by

With the Republicans out there campaigning/embarrassing themselves, I felt compelled to comment on and give my opinion about what needs to happen in this mess of a country. First of all, how did it get so bad? I’ll tell you how.

Food and drugs! ( two of my favorite things.)  My observation, a lot of reading and documentaries have led me to believe that between the government, the food industry and the pharmaceutical industry, they have a majority of the country right where they want them; on the couch, half asleep, with the remote control in their hand flipping back and forth between American Idol and other garbage. Why? Because as long as we are addicted to pills and high fructose corn syrup, they can do whatever the hell they want to us. How are we supposed to have any kind of revolution when everybody is on drugs and watching Dancing With the Stars? And more importantly, why are we calling them “stars?”   

By the way, I am a registered independent, which means I hate both sides, and I feel about government the way I do about organized religion, which is that they are self-serving and full of shit. Sorry, I’m not trying to offend, just stating my opinion and you know what they say about opinions, so take it with a grain of salt.

Here’s one way we’re getting screwed:

The banks. Government and the banks seem to love each other. You bail your friends out, right? Except, WE bailed them out, and they’re not OUR friends, because you don’t screw your friends. After we bailed them out, they have the balls to charge the customers ridiculous service fees.  Some fun facts from The Wall Street Journal:

“Banks are going to raise existing fees and institute new ones,” predicts Alex Matjanec, co-founder of “My Bank Tracker”, a consumer-education website.

PNC Bank now charges $25 to close some accounts, and it isn’t the only bank that charges its customers on their way out.

Citibank customers have to maintain at least a $1,500 balance, up from zero—or set up direct deposit and pay at least one bill online each month—in order to dodge the fees.

In the hunt for more revenue, banks also will start charging customers for paying bills over the phone as opposed to online”

This is bullshit and we all know it. Here’s what Thomas Jefferson said about banks:

“I believe that banking institutions are more dangerous to our liberties than standing armies. If the American people ever allow private banks to control the issue of their currency, first by inflation, then by deflation, the banks and corporations that will grow up around [the banks] will deprive the people of all property until their children wake-up homeless on the continent their fathers conquered. The issuing power should be taken from the banks and restored to the people, to whom it properly belongs.”

evil doers

devils

more evil doers

Okay, now let’s talk about Newt Gingrich’s hair and his giant head. What the hell type of hair-helmet-wig is that thing? He’s so creepy and repulsive and his head is so big that I can’t take him seriously. Not to mention that he has nothing good to say.

Look at my giant head!

I’m pretty sure Mitt Romney is a robot.

Rick Perry? How about no more Texans?

Rick Santorum: A prime example of the negative effects of religion and ridiculous conservative, judgmental, “Christian” views. First, of all, douche bags like that give Christians a bad name. Anyone who doesn’t support gay marriage and equal rights, and a woman’s right to choose, can SUCK IT! I posted it on Facebook and I’ll post it here; Rick Santorum will probably get caught snorting coke off a male hooker’s ass in a gas station bathroom. Yeah, that’s right. It’s always the most anti-gay that are caught in the most gay and deviant acts. See ya at the bath house Rick!

Ron Paul is in favor of legalizing marijuana. Need I say more?

Speaking of drugs, here is how we solve the problems in the Middle East. As we know, they are very angry and aggressive over there and they don’t treat their women very nicely, and I have a problem with that. Considering that we hand out prescription drugs so freely in this country, why don’t we use some in a productive, international way.

For example, the drug Ecstasy is not physically addictive (I’ve never tried it, but I want to), and before they made it illegal, psychologists were using it in couple’s therapy and they said that one dose of Ecstasy was the equivalent to a year of therapy!  One dose! At the hearing for the de-legalization of the drug, doctors showed up to protest and said it should be studied more because it has beneficial effects.

This is from drugfree.org

“Effects include feelings of peacefulness, acceptance and empathy. Users say they experience feelings of closeness with others and a desire to touch others.”

Now don’t you think we should just bomb the Middle East with Ecstasy? Get them all doped up on love and empathy, and our problems are solved. People might argue that it would be wrong to “drug” unsuspecting people. My answer to that is, “but it’s okay to kill them?”  Wouldn’t it be fun to watch those angry, religious nut jobs start behaving like they were at a rave party?  We could drop glow sticks out of planes and they would forget about how much they hate everyone.

 I’m obviously not running for office, but don’t you think I should? Just put me in a smart pantsuit and I’ll fix all kinds of problems. World hunger wouldn’t be an issue. I would ship all the fat people to where the starving people are and have all the starving people come here and eat at McDonalds. Problem solved.

Okay, enough ranting for now. Let me hop off my soapbox and wrap this up.  I think we all know I have the necessary skills to run the country, but I just don’t like politicians. What we need is a revolution….or maybe just a whole lot of ecstasy.

I hope your day includes peace, acceptance and empathy, without having to pop a pill :)

Posted in Hollywood, celebrities, weird | Tagged , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

The History of Embalming

Posted on January 17, 2012 by

 I asked my dad once who invented embalming and you probably guessed it; it was the Egyptians. Everyone knows about the mummies. They were the first culture to believe in the immortality of the soul, and that the soul would never completely leave the body if the body was kept intact. The Egyptians who performed embalming were members of the priesthood and there were 3 different methods that were based on the wealth of the dead person.

The most expensive method included five steps and would cost about $2000 today, which by today’s standards is still inexpensive, because the average cost of a funeral today is about $6000.

The first thing they did was remove the brain and pack the skull with resin. The next step was to remove the organs, which were washed and mixed with spices and resin and put back in the body, or were put in a separate burial vase, similar to an urn. Next, they would soak the body in natron, which is basically a mixture of salt and baking soda, for 20-70 days. Even though this would cause the finger and toe nails to come off, the Egyptians would somehow replace them, because the body had to be intact for 3,000 years so the soul could complete the “circle of necessity.” This was some weird requirement that the Egyptians believed the soul had to take, and on completion, the body would rise from the dead and the live with the gods forever. Where did they get that dumb idea?

After they soaked the body, they would clean it and allow it to dehydrate in the sun. Historians believe that the climate in Egypt was a big factor in the success of their embalming because it’s so hot and dry. Hot and dry? Maybe they should start burying people in the Valley. Next, they wrapped it with about 1200 yards of bandage and held it together with gum or glue. The body was then put in a sarcophagus and returned to the family. A sarcophagus is like a casket, like the thing that King Tut was in.

Fun Fact: Necropolis (which means “City of the Dead”), was a walled suburb, was where all death-related activities took place. The coffin makers and embalmers lived here and it was where the crypts and tombs were located.

Some people like the Persians, Babylonians and Syrians would preserve their dead in jars with honey or wax, which prevented decomposition by depriving the body bacteria of air. The Greeks had a very bizarre custom. They believed that the dead made a journey across the river Styx to the land of eternity (could this be where that horrible band got its name?) They would put a coin in the dead person’s mouth to pay passage across the river (okay, that’s just like a toll booth), and a cake of honey was put next to the dead person to appease Cerebus, the three-headed dog who guarded the entrance to Hades, wherever the hell that is. It sounds like the Greeks were dropping acid if you ask me.  A three-headed dog?

Greeks do drugs...

The Romans didn’t really embalm anyone. A group of slaves would wash the body with hot water and oil for 7 days, and funeral processions were held at night by a “designator,” comparable to a modern day funeral director. Eventually cremation came into play, but at one time, cremation was forbidden in Rome because of the smoke pollutions that was caused by burning so many bodies at once. Imagine the smell of Rome!

The Jews generally did not allow embalming or cremation because it was seen as mutilation of the body.  Preparation for the burial consisted of the application of oils and spices, and then the body was wrapped.

Here are some pioneers in embalming:

Dr. Frederick Ruysch (1665-1717) is generally considered the father of enbalming with his discovery of the first successful system of arterial enbalming.

Alexander Butlerov (1828-1866) and Wilhelm von Hofmann (1818-1892) are credited with the discovery of formaldehyde. 

Dr. Thomas Holmes (1817-1900) is generally considered the father of modern enbalming. He experimented with preservative chemicals while working as a coroners assistant in New York and later began offering his services to the public.

At the turn of the twentieth century, coffins were made by cabinet makers, and removals were done by the livery man. Eventually, the cabinet makers and livery men started to manage or “undertake” the funeral details and became known as the “undertaker.” This person eventually provided all the necessary things for the funeral, and once the undertaker was able to provide embalming services, the burial process was given more time for preparation and arrangements. Today there are over 100 services a funeral director can provide.

“In modern embalming, a fluid that is both a disinfectant and a preservative is injected into the circulatory system of the body by an electric pump while the blood is forced out of the body and disposed of. In effect, the blood is replaced with a disinfectant and preservative solution.

Today embalming is done for three reasons: disinfection, preservation and restoration. Returning the body to a life-like state, and viewing the body after death has proven psychological worth because it offers a sense of closure to the loved ones.”

Well, I hoped you enjoyed the little history lesson. So, will you be embalmed or cremated? Have you thought about your funeral? You know I have. I think I want a viewing followed by cremation…but only if they can make me look good, and since I won’t be there to supervise, maybe I’ll just go straight to cremation. What I would really like is to be embalmed in a sitting position, be propped up in a chair with a drink in my dead hand so I could be part of my going away party. Doesn’t that sound more fun?

Have a nice day… :)

Source: Wyoming Funeral Director’s Association

Posted in death, family, funeral home, funerals, weird | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 18 Comments

From the Basement to the Stage

Posted on January 13, 2012 by

Dancing With the Stars, call me!

After my early childhood performances on the casket shipping case, I finally started performing outside of my basement. Did I mention that I started playing the flute at age 10 in the school band? When the music teacher came to our school to show us the different instruments and asked if anyone wanted to try them, my hand shot up. I don’t know why I picked the flute looking back, but that’s what I did. I practiced often and got pretty good and played for four years in 5th, 6th, 7th and 8thgrade. I could read music and everything.

this isn't me, but I did have hair like that at one time...

In 8th grade I played a solo in the school recital. Remember the song, “The Hustle?” Oh yeah, I rocked that shit! Then high school happened and ruined my budding rock n’ roll career.

I should let you know that I always hated school. I got good grades, but just hated it. Hated the teachers, hated the structure, hated what they taught, hated the uniforms, hated the activities, hated the rules… should I go on? The problem was that there was no high school I wanted to go to. I didn’t want to go to the neighborhood Catholic high school that a lot of my grade school friends were going to and I didn’t want to go to the public school that some of my other friends went to. Both of my sisters were going to a private, all girls, college prep, Catholic, high school about 40 minutes away that they drove to every day. My dad valued education and saw that as a good school before college…blah blah blah, so I got roped into going there….and guess what? I hated it. There was no music program! If I had gone to one of the other schools, both having a band or orchestra, I could have kept playing the flute and ended up with the rock n’ roll career I really wanted. Because when you think of the flute, you think rock n’ roll….or you think of Will Ferrell in “Anchorman.”

"Sex, drugs, and rock n' roll".....the life I always wanted

So that basically ended my music career (at least for awhile, it picks back up again in LA), because I went there for two years, but that’s when I took up dancing. Once I started dancing, that was it. I knew I couldn’t keep pretending that I wanted to go to college and become a lawyer, I knew what I wanted to do, and it wasn’t going to be found at the all girls, academic high school, so I left. By the way, my inspiration for dancing was the movie“Fame” (the original, not that piece of crap remake). I love that movie and if you’ve ever seen it, there’s the part where Leroy gets into the High School of Performing Arts and his dance partner doesn’t make it, and as she’s leaving, she yells up the stairs, “I DIDN’T WANT TO GO TO THIS ASS-LICKIN’ SCHOOL ANYWAY.” That’s how I felt when I left :) .

I transferred to the public school and hated that too, but at least there were guys there, and I had extra credits from the other school, so I really didn’t have to work hard, which was great. I took the required classes like English and Math and then got all these elective classes, so I took easy things like cooking, acting and creative writing. I dropped Physics and Spanish 3 because that would have required some effort, although after living in LA for so long, I now know that I should’ve stuck with the Spanish class.

I worked really hard at dancing and practiced a lot when there were no funerals going on because in the parlor area, there was plenty of room and one wall was completely mirrored. It was carpeted, but it still made a great place to practice. I remember one time, my friend Chris came over to practice together (she also took dance class). We were having a funeral that night or the next morning, and there was a body in the casket right behind

obviously taken before I learned to point my toes , but look at the sequined wrist warmers

us. She was a bit freaked out at first, but I assured her, the dead person wouldn’t bother us. I always thought of them as audience members (and believe me, LA audiences aren’t much different.) While I was in dance school, I performed solos in all my recitals, which were held at the Academy of Music in Philadelphia, an amazing venue where the Philadelphia Orchestra played.

"Do it like this, you uncoordinated little dorks"....that's what I was thinking

 

After high school I got a job teaching dancing. I was simultaneously taking classes and getting certification to become a professional teacher and a member of Dance Masters of America. I got my certification and taught on and off for a few years and even considered opening a dance studio. I had a great time teaching but I didn’t want to do it forever because I liked performing better, but was keenly aware of my level of talent at the time. I had balls though. For example, I did a dance routine, choreographed by myself, to the theme from “Shaft,” (one of the coolest songs ever) in the high school talent show. I was horrible, and yet, what a great song to humiliate yourself to, isn’t it? If that tape ever surfaces, I’ll leave the country.

I started taking classes at a place in downtown Philly where a lot of professionals took class so I could expand my knowledge. I had really strong ballet training and now I had to learn the current styles of choreography so I could pursue a career. I knew I was never going to be a ballerina, so I started to focus on contemporary a lot more. All of this was really good preparation for when I moved to LA because there are a thousands of amazing dancers in LA, and I mean amazing!

Is it just me, or do I look like a stripper from 1950?

So, when I got to LA, I trained with the top teachers in the big dance studios in town, and I auditioned my ass off. I scored a few jobs, but sadly, my dance career was cut short due to a lot of injuries. Once I realized my dance career was coming to an end, that’s when I started to focus on music again….but that’s a whole other ballgame. Talk about a weird industry. I don’t know who’s crazier; dancers, singers, or musicians. But actors are just flat out weirdos, and I think comedians take the cake for craziest…but they’re probably the most fun.

The great thing about comedians is that many of them have a nice, sick sense of humor, so you know  that you can say anything twisted around them and won’t feel like a weirdo for saying it. Plus, they’re the only other people who understand what it’s like to get up in front of a room full of strangers and make them laugh…or not.

Stay tuned for stories about my music career, including my first band, bad auditions, the 14-member blues band I was in, and my album. Not to mention more comedy stories…the good, the bad, and the bombing.

You better laugh fuckers!

Posted in family, funeral home, Hollywood | Tagged , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

Neighbors

Posted on January 11, 2012 by

 Do you like your neighbors? Sometimes I wonder if my neighbors think I’m a weirdo. For example, the girl that lives on one side of me shares a wall with my bathroom. I do a lot of thinking in the shower, but it’s usually out loud and sometimes using different voices and accents or creating scenarios or comedy bits etc. I sing in the shower too. I know she hears me because the girl who used to live in that apartment told me she could hear me. I saw her one day and said something like, “If you ever hear anything weird coming from my apartment, it’s because I do comedy”(I figured that would cover it).  And she said, “Oh, okay, because a few times my friend and I just looked at each other like WHAT IS THAT?” We both laughed awkwardly.

Just like me: singing into a loofah while holding my rubber ducky and wearing a stylish shower cap!

However, that is one of the great things about living alone. You can say and do all the crazy things you want and no one is there to judge you (aside from your eavesdropping neighbors), plus, you can eat food straight out of a pot and use whatever utensil is closest.

I’m pretty sure my neighbors on the next block  have seen me naked a lot. I don’t know how many times I’ve taken a shower and forgot to close the curtains, or just left too many lights on. I’m on the second floor, and I don’t know how long I lived here before I realized that the people on the next block, whose backyards face my apartment building, can easily see in my windows. I even drove by the houses on the next block to see what they can see, and don’t you know, they get a nice, clear view of my windows and of course, my naked body. I’m sure they’ve also witnessed my workouts which I do in my apartment, however, I do put clothes on for that. Without a sports bra, we’re all risking injury, whether it’s physical or visual.

The worst neighbor I ever had actually got me evicted. Here’s how it went down; I lived on the first floor and she lived on the second floor, but across from me. So if my windows were open and her windows were open, she could hear EVERYTHING, including my personal conversations. But I know she was one of those creeps that liked listening in on other people’s conversations.

are you listening creepy neighbor?

It’s a really long story with a lot of back and forth, but I’m going to give you the condensed version of it.

Sometimes I like to listen to music loud, in fact, I think a lot of music should be listened to loud…or is it loudly? Anyway, it’s not all the time; it’s when I clean my apartment or after a few martinis. But I’m not unreasonable. I don’t play it at obnoxious hours and it’s not that often. But this crazy neighbor, who I would guess was about 60 years old, had a really hard time with me and my loud music. She came to my door and complained and whined and I sincerely apologized and told her I would keep my windows closed when I was listening to music.

She knocked on my door another time and told me that I was talking too loud. I always apologized and told her to let me know and I would close my windows, but once in awhile, I would just forget to close my windows. Well, she eventually called the cops on me. Called the fucking cops! As if the LAPD has nothing better to do than to respond to calls from bitter cry babies about loud music. And more importantly, I play GREAT music. Who would complain about the Stones, Stevie Wonder, Jimi Hendrix? A loser, that’s who.

The manager of the building who lived across from me, liked me, and told me more than once that the complaining neighbor was a pain in the ass and not to pay much attention to her, but to just close the windows. The real problem happened when the owners sold the building and the new owners got rid of the manager who liked me. I don’t know how she did it, but the crazy neighbor that hated me convinced the new owners to make her the manager of the building. When I found that out, I knew I was screwed. She made it her personal mission to get me out of the building. She bad-mouthed me to the new owners and told them all kinds of crap to get rid of me. She told them that she had to call the cops on me, that I let all kinds of people into the building and that she smelled pot coming out of my apartment. Oops, should’ve remembered to close the windows. All her bad-mouthing finally worked and one day I got a “60 days to move out” notice. I was livid!

That meant that I had to find a new apartment, which is a big pain in the ass, and I had to come up with first/last and security deposit, which totaled about $1800. And for what? I never did anything but listen to some loud (great) music once in awhile. The worst part about it? This building had a pool! It’s the only building I ever lived in that had a pool and I loved it. I was one of the only people that used it and I used it every chance I could. Summers in the valley suck and are really hot, and I was in that pool every day. What a bitch…in more ways than one! 

But I had no choice, I had to do it. So, I went apartment hunting and found my current apartment, and I love this apartment, even though it has no pool. The day I moved out from the other place, I played the album “The Chronic,” which has a lot of “N” words and curse words and overall offensive language, and I played it at the highest volume with my windows open just to piss her off. And I played it for hours. In fact, I made it so that the stereo was the last thing to move so I could just play it over and over and drive her crazy.

Cut to about a year later, I ran into her at Ralph’s (supermarket). I saw her first and walked up behind her. I waited until she turned around and looked at her right in the face and said, “You DISGUST me!” I don’t know what made me say it, I had to say something, and let’s just say it wouldn’t be the first time I provoked someone just for my own entertainment. She looked at me for a second and then said, “Oh yea, well you’re fat and ugly.” I said, “Oh really? Well, you’re fat, you’re ugly, you’re old and you’re alone! You’re a LOSER!” And I walked away from her holding my hand in the “L” symbol up to my forehead and just kept saying “Loser” until she was far enough down the aisle. It was like two kids in the schoolyard, except it was two grown women at the supermarket.

But c’mon, she had me evicted for chrissake…the whore had it coming to her. Loser! :)

The bottom line is; apartment living means that you have to put up with your neighbor’s lifestyles, as long as it’s not harmful. Did I call the cops when my neighbor Carl would blast death metal music at 2 in the morning? No! I’d lean my head out the window and scream for him to turn it down. He’d yell back “Sorry Celeste,” and I’d go back to sleep.

Everyone in my current building tolerates me and I tolerate them. Everyone is respectful of each other and no one is really a cry baby about anything, and they don’t seem to mind when I play DJ for the apartment building. If I see ever that woman again (who go me evicted), I’ll say, “Hey, have you ever seen the show, “The Biggest Loser?” And just walk away. :)  

And one more thing…if you ever want to see me naked, just park on the next street.

Posted in family, Hollywood, weird | Tagged , , , , , | 10 Comments