A Personal Conflict

Posted on February 10, 2012 by

Let’s face it, we all have a reality TV show that we get sucked into. When I had cable, I rarely watched any reality TV, but right now I only have network TV which host shows like Survivor, American Idol and The Bachelor. I am not dedicated by any means, but I have been watching some of The Bachelor here and there and all I can say is; Wow, what a bunch of stupid, little, slutty weirdos!

Oh Ben....please love me.

Here is where I’m conflicted; I love it when they cry. And all of them cry at least a few times during the season because they are competing for a guy named Ben who looks like a monkey, and all of them fall in love with him within minutes, and go to all kinds of desperate measures to win his affection, and then cry for various reasons when something doesn’t go their way.  And when I say cry, I mean sob.  They all seem neurotic, needy and clingy and of course, crazy, which makes for great TV. And I can’t help myself, I love the meltdowns. I can’t get enough. The louder the sobs, the louder my laughter.

sobbing in the corner on national TV...love it.

Anyone have a banana?

The problem is that I don’t think Susan B. Anthony or Elizabeth Cady Stanton would approve of this show or of me watching it. These Bachelor broads are a detriment to all women, and in my opinion, setting back the women’s movement with their desperate behavior, so I think we should kill them.

Back when Susan B. and ECS ( my nicknames for them) were travelling around speaking out for women’s rights, women weren’t even allowed to get divorced or ride bikes. I would really like to know why they weren’t allowed to ride bikes…probably because the men didn’t want them escaping. Women were no more than slaves at the time, and their

Those Bachelor girls are such sluts!

husbands were legally allowed to beat them. I never think you should hit a woman, but if anyone should be smacked around, it’s the girls on The Bachelor. I’m not saying men should be allowed to hit them, I’m saying, I should be allowed to hit them.

How can they allow themselves to sob like that on national TV while saying, “I just want him to like me and I just want to make him happy.”

Then kill yourself….and make us all happy. In fact, a mass suicide is what I’m hoping for. I’ll make the Kool-aid.

Too harsh? I don’t think so. Broads like that are keeping women from taking over the world. Well, broads like that and those Middle Eastern broads that need a couple of power lesbians to start a revolution over there. ECS was married with seven kids, and I’m pretty sure that Susan B. was the power lesbian of that couple (judging from her looks) but they were definitely BFFs. Every straight woman could use a power lesbian at her side, and a good gay for hair and makeup,which clearly ECS and Susan B. were lacking.

Hi, I'm the first power lesbian

Apparently, ECS would write all the speeches and Susan B. would go and deliver them to the masses since she wasn’t suckling seven children from her lesbian breasts. By the way, ECS and I have the same birthday…and so does Charles Manson.

So why am I watching The Bachelor when it goes against all I believe in for the advancement of women as a gender?

Because it makes me laugh….but for all the wrong reasons.

And why is this post short and relatively meaningless? Two reasons; the first one is because after an extended break to work on this blog and lay on the couch, I started doing stand-up again because I missed the excited, nervous, borderline diarrhea feeling I get before I go on stage. And doing stand-up takes time and concentration, two things I have very little of.  The other reason is because planning how to kill my boss takes a lot of energy…so this week the blog had to take a back seat to my live performance and kill plan. I apologize for that readers, you know how much I love you…or do you?

I will be talking much more about my job in my live act, mostly because if I were to give too many details, the blog could end up in front of the wrong eyes, if you know what I mean.

But I’m so happy its Friday. I hope everyone has a fun-filled weekend ahead of them. I have to go hard boil some eggs now so I can stink up my apartment. Did you ever wonder why hard-boiled eggs smell bad? Did you ever consider its because eggs come out of a chicken’s anus? I considered that, even though I’m still not sure where they come from. Do chickens have vaginas? Have a great weekend.

(P.S. I just googled it.  Chickens do NOT have vaginas, they have a CLOACA, which is disturbing in its own way)

 

No vagina here....

Posted in celebrities, family, Hollywood, weird | Tagged , , , | 19 Comments

A Funeral or a KKK Meeting?

Posted on February 7, 2012 by

Since my last two posts involved Asians, I’ve decided to stick with the Asian theme and tell you about the first time we had a Vietnamese funeral at our house. I mentioned in a previous blog that after the Vietnam war a lot of immigrants settled into our area, and when one of them died, none of the funeral directors in the area would help them, but my dad felt sorry for them so he decided offer his services.

"Give us your poor, your tired, your huddled masses longing to haggle for funeral prices"

What he never considered is that they are from a haggling country, so when it came to funerals, it was no different. When they were haggling for prices during the funeral arrangements, my dad thought it was because they were so poor and couldn’t afford it. That was until they drove up to the funeral home in their Mercedes and brought in a lot of high-tech video equipment to tape the funeral, and then proceeded to throw money into a trash can and burn it. Oh yeah, apparently the Vietnamese have money to burn…literally.  Guess why they do this? So the dead person will have money to spend in the afterlife. Isn’t that ridiculous? I think the Vietnamese might wanna re-think that idea. If there is an afterlife, something tells me you’re not gonna need paper money.

When it came time for the funeral, they put a big vase full of sand next to the casket and burned tons of incense. It was so smoky that when you opened the front door to the funeral home, smoke billowed out like a scene from a Cheech and Chong movie.   

 

During the funeral my dad had to leave and pick up a death certificate. He came back to find all the furniture of the front lawn. Naturally baffled, he went up to the oldest family member (because age is a big respect thing in Asian culture) and asked what was going on. He said, “This our custom Mr. John.” My dad was someone who respected people’s culture and requests, so he allowed it, even though I know it bothered him because our house was very visible and it was about to turn into even more of a spectacle. As if it wasn’t bizarre enough already to have immigrants moving your furniture out of your house and onto the front lawn.

Meanwhile, inside they were throwing fruit into the casket and serving 7up in Dixie cups through clouds of incense smoke. I remember standing at the top of the steps looking down but you honestly couldn’t see much through the smoke, aside from people dressed in white robes. The Vietnamese wear white to funerals and chant because this is a Buddhist thing.

headbands?

They asked my dad to get them a metal trashcan and he obliged. They proceeded to take it out on the front porch, dressed in hooded white robes, threw money and pictures into the trash can and set it on fire while chanting the whole time.  My dad couldn’t believe what they were doing and discouraged them to burn money, but they responded, “This our custom Mr. John.”

 

This also happened at a time when the neighborhood was changing and some black people started to move in…and that’s when the phone calls started.

People in the neighborhood started calling the house asking what the hell was going on, was this some kind of KKK meeting? Understandably so, the only thing missing was the burning cross on the lawn that was replaced with furniture. My dad assured the neighbors that this was not a racist gathering but a custom of a Vietnamese funeral. Pissing off the neighbors was not something my dad wanted to do because let’s face it, everyone was eventually going to be potential business. The Irish Catholics being the main source of income.

Hi, is this a funeral or a KKK meeting?

They also threw money and fruit into the grave at the cemetery and again, my dad tried to discourage them…especially since he made no money on that funeral after all that haggling. But my dad was a smart business man, and he would kill me if he knew I was telling you this, but once he understood that haggling was just something they practiced, he knew that if he ever had another Vietnamese funeral, which he did, that he would have to raise the prices so that when they haggled down far enough, he would still make a profit. Like any other business, you’re in it to make money, so he learned that lesson the hard way. You know the saying…”Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice shame on me”…let’s just say he only got fooled once.

After that funeral, having another one soon after, we had to open all the windows and doors and spray Lysol and all kinds of other air fresheners to get rid of the smoke and incense smell. Never a dull moment at the funeral home, as there was always plenty of stress and chaos to go around.  There were plenty of times that we had all hands on deck. One of us would be vacuuming, another one would be help setting up the flowers, my mom would be styling a dead ladies hair, someone would be sweeping and polishing the knobs and my dad would be barking out orders. Then we would get to go upstairs and have to be quiet for a few hours…yeah, fun times.

Speaking of that famous saying, I’ve included on of my favorite clips of our former genius president, George Bush.

 

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

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 , , | 10 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, family, funeral home, funerals, weird | 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!

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