Sunday, January 30, 2005

I love JPII

VATICAN CITY - Pope John Paul II shooed a dove - a symbol of peace - out his apartment window Sunday, chuckling with children who watched in delight as the bird flew back into his room overlooking St. Peter's Square.
The pontiff was addressing thousands of young people from an Italian Catholic organization who marked January as a month to promote peace.
He was flanked at his studio window by a pair of 8-year-olds - a boy and girl - who urged the world to remember children who live in countries wracked by war.
John Paul prayed that young people, "who so desire peace, become courageous and tenacious builders" of peace.
Each of the children at his side sent a dove flying, but the white birds, perhaps alarmed by Rome's unusual cold spell, almost immediately darted back into his studio.
Laughing, the 84-year-old ailing pontiff seemed determined to set the symbol free. He grabbed one of the doves as an aide returned the birds to the window sill, and he shooed it out the window and playfully patted the boy on the head.
After a quick flight over the square, the bird quickly fluttered inside again as the pope grinned.

Thursday, January 27, 2005

White on Black

I live in a house with a Golden Retriever and a yellow Labrador. A Labrador is kind of like a troubadour, except different. A troubadour is a strolling minstrel while a Labrador really can't entertain people when they travel from town to town.
Did I mention my dogs are going bald? They must be because I can't escape the house without 5 pounds of their fur on me.
I have no business ever wearing black clothes. It's like the opposite of a needle in a haystack; it's just like Saint Francis said:

Where there is a black sweater, your fur.
Where there is a clean floor, your dirty paws.
Where there is a horrible smell, you sleep unknowingly.
Where there is a half eaten donut..well that was me, sorry.

Wednesday, January 26, 2005

One Hit Wonder

Last night my dorky friends and I were standing outside the Hollywood Improv watching Megan Mullally eat her salad inside the restaurant. I very badly wanted to go up and give her a chest high five like her and Jack do on the show but thought better of it (ok I was forcibly held back). All of a sudden this huge Mercedes pulls up really close to the curb and stops abruptly in front of the club. After we get out of the way the car pulls into the Second City parking lot and who gets out but Lauren Michaels. Being the fast thinker I am I said, "Hi Lauren!" and waved. He did a Dr Evil kind of a look and smiled and waved back. Now, looking back what I should have done was to dive in front of his car and become seriously injured, or so it would seem. When he would come to help me I would jump up and yell, "I was acting!" He would have been so impressed with my acting skills and relieved that I was not going to sue him he would have flown me to New York to join the cast of SNL. I guess that would have been kind of awkward though and I'm glad I just waived; I'm way too busy this week to go to New York anyway.

Sunday, January 23, 2005

From Johnny Carson on his final show, May 22, 1992

"And so it has come to this. I am one of the lucky people in the world. I found something that I always wanted to do and I have enjoyed every single minute of it."

Get Funky

I saw the Irish band the Chieftains last night; by the way they all have eyebrows that are fire hazards. They have been together for about 40 years playing all over the world. Their leader, a little guy called Paddy Maloney is a firecracker on stage. He towers at five feet and looks the part of an Irish leprechaun. The whole time I was watching them I was so envious. Their whole two hour set was so full of energy, everyone on stage was either tapping a toe or stomping their feet. Keeping beat yes but really getting into their art, felling what they are doing. Not only them but also the audience was stomping and hooting and clapping. Comedians miss out on that. I have never seen a comedian get so into a joke that they hoot after. Or tell a really good punch line and then bag pipers come out and you get goose bumps. But I had a choice I guess. I could have taken a different career path and picked up the Ullian Pipes instead but no, I had to tell jokes. One time at a club, I made a lady laugh so hard that she choked and almost died...I guess that's pretty close.

Friday, January 21, 2005


I love old men. Do you know why? They don't care what they look like. Their eyebrows look like unruly hamsters!! If it weren't for my mom's "magic scissors" my dad would have eyebrows five feet in length. Irish people especially have shaggy eyebrows not to mention the feared ear hairs that sprout and poke people as they pass to near. Scottish people too but not so much the woman, that's more Ukrainian women with the shaggy facial hair. But I'm not here to judge, I'm here to mock. I'm glad I'm not a man; it's bad enough when you are a grandma and you start to grow a beard but to start a beard in high school, yuck.

Wednesday, January 19, 2005

An Open Letter to the Lady at Comedy Store

Dear Lady,
Why are you so mean? My job as a comedian is to bring laughter and joy into your life. Why do you use your loud voice to hinder my job? I'm sure you have lots of interesting things to say. You are probably well versed in literature and birds of the Amazon. It was really neat how you got your voice to project so loud that everyone else could barely hear me on the mic. I bet they really like you at your job where you are a "master at managing senior citizens." I like you too and would love to be your friend. But here's the thing; before we had time to swap emails you spilled your drink and left the show! I know, maybe you didn't notice, but the show had just started. I'm glad to report that after you left the show did in fact go on! No one else left until it was over. Get this; no one else yelled at the other comedians either (I know, isn't that weird?). Please come back to the Comedy Store again and again because you my friend truly make Stand up comedy not just a job but an adventure! Your friend,

Tuesday, January 18, 2005

Laptop burn

Seems they don't call them laptops anymore for a reason. They call them notebooks, or power Books because the name "laptop" seems to imply that you can place the computer on your lap. Your lap is like a mobile computer desk. Oh but wait, you shouldn't put them on your lap because it turns out you can be horribly burned!
I fell asleep last night in bed with my computer on my lap and woke up a half hour later to a, well, burning sensation. On further inspection my thighs looked like an Irish kids who had fell asleep in the bright Caribbean sun for 5 hours. Today the Irish burn was gone and a life lesson was learned.

Saturday, January 15, 2005

I'm Sicker Than You

It's an out right phlegm war here at my house. I have some chest cold that won't go away and my dad always coughs because he smokes his pipe all day long. Even the yellow lab had five sneezes in a row and a coughing fit today. Everyone wants in on what I have. It's no fun being sick when you don't have a job to call in sick too. When I was among the daytime job dwellers that was the best part about being sick. You got to stay home and watch TV, eat food, drink 7up and look at the clock and know all the fun you were missing at work. But now being sick just means doing what I do every day but coughing so loud I can't hear Golden Girls.
The worst part about being a sick comic is the fact that my voice is scary sounding with my lovely cold. My voice is my instrument. You heard me people, my voice is like a tuba. A finely tuned tuba, with a leaky spit valve. Do tuba's have spit valves? Anyway, for now I can work in my voice to my act because above else I am a professional. A professional tuba player.

Thursday, January 13, 2005

Warm jeans

Nothing better than when you are cold and you put on warm jeans fresh from the drier and the metal burns you.
There is nothing worse than a few moments later you realize those jeans are still wet and you have to peel them off and stand in your underwear in the laundry room waiting for them to get dry. And your dog is confused and is looking at you funny so you close the door and just stand alone in the laundry your underwear. Nothing better than warm jeans, nothing. Granted I don't get out a lot, but so far, my vote is for warm jeans. I'll let you know if I find something better. God I hope I do, there must be more to life than warm stupid jeans.

Wednesday, January 12, 2005


Are Hamsters naturally occurring in the wild? Where did they come from? Is there a place I can travel to and see them frolicking in their natural habitat? Would their natural habitat include a giant exercise wheel?

I ask the tough questions. I tread where others fear to go. Sure it's scary, but if you don't ask the tough questions, you're never going to grow as a person.

Gosh, I need to get out more.

Tuesday, January 11, 2005

Knowledge is Power

Thank you Merriam-Webster Word of the Day!
earwig \EER-wig\ verb: to annoy or attempt to influence by private talk

Example sentence:
"[He] earwigged the small man at the cheese conference, asking him to take the lead in banning string cheese advertising from the internet."

Did you know?
Earwigs are small insects that were once thought to crawl into the ears of sleeping people. This isn't true - earwigs prefer moist, dark places under leaves and rocks to human ears - but the superstition led people to name the insect "iarwicga," Old English for "ear insect." Over time, people connected the idea of having an insect in one's ear to situations that involve whispering or speaking privately into someone's ear. The noun "earwig" came to also mean "a whispering busybody" (though this sense is now considered archaic), and the verb "earwig" evolved to refer to the acts of such meddlers.

I get these emails everyday and really I can't use the words they send. That is until today! Earwig, it all makes sense now. Thank you Merriam-Webster Word of the Day!

PS The lady on The Biggest Loser looks like Demi Moore, except with giant arms.

Monday, January 10, 2005

Thank You in Advance

Our television in the living room is almost 20 years old. The rule in the McDonald house is: You don't buy a new one until the old one is broken. Maybe broken is the wrong word. The right word would be dead. You don't buy a new one until the old one is dead. Quid pro quo we have a 20-year-old television in our living room that is desperately trying to die. Imagine my embarrassment when people were over on Saturday to watch the Charger's game and no one could read the score because the graphics on the screen are so squiggly. Sometimes we will be watching Trading Spaces or a similar show and the designer is discussing the red paint color we have to shake our heads because on our TV it appears that the color is blue.
In Costco today I saw a beautiful 42-inch HD plasma TV. When I looked at it my eyes burned. The grass was green, the sky was blue and all was right in the world. This is how God intended television to be viewed. I think God wants you, who is reading this right now to buy me that TV. Thank You in advance.

With friends like that...

LONDON (Reuters) - A British man was jailed on Friday for repeatedly stabbing a long lost best friend he had traced via the popular "Friends Reunited" Web site, and the victim says he still wants to be buddies.

Brendan Walsh, 27, nearly killed Noel Duff when he stabbed him seven times in a drunken rage because he mistakenly believed his friend had attacked his sister, Karen, whom Duff had started dating.

However, Walsh immediately became full of remorse, called an ambulance and Duff was rushed to a hospital where doctors said it was a miracle he had survived a stab wound to the heart.

"The victim is no longer angry at you and the remarkable fact is that (he) even gave evidence on your behalf and said he would like to be friends with you again," Judge David Paget told Walsh, who was cleared of attempted murder.

****Wow my friends get mad when I don't call for a few weeks much less stab them in the heart. I guess I just hang out with way too sensitive people.****

Saturday, January 08, 2005

The End is not near.

The Chargers lost and we are sad but perhaps this is a good thing.
You see if they would have won and gone on to the playoffs and then on to the Super Bowl and then won the Super Bowl, that would have been a sure sign that the apocalypse was soon to follow.

Friday, January 07, 2005

46 Grams of Fat

What's John Stossel so angry about? ?
Is his life really that bad that he must say the phrase, "give me a break" before he starts every news story? I think most of his rage comes from his moustache. Alex Trebek use to be an angry little Canadian, then he shaved off his angry nose hair that had run amuck and now he's just a regular cool kanook. Take note John Stossel, shave your moustache, life is too short to be so angry and to have a moustache.
Carls Jr presents the Breakfast Burger:
A hamburger with a fried egg, crisp bacon, hash brown nuggets, cheese, ketchup and a charbroiled all-beef patty on a sesame-seed bun and it only has 830 calories and 46 grams of fat.

I dare you to eat three of those and then crank call John Stossel.

Wednesday, January 05, 2005

Give a Little Bit

Sandra Bullock, that girl who looks just like me but different, donated one million dollars to tsunami relief fund.

I donated twenty.

In the grand scheme of things I'd say we are about even.

Tuesday, January 04, 2005

Time, time, time, is not on my side

Some times I have a feeling that I might be functionally retarded. Oops did I say that out loud? Let me explain. For the past 36 weeks I have been receiving an issue of Entertainment weekly in the mail. I read the whole thing every week and every week it left me with a feeling of gratitude that I now knew so much about entertainment. I got to thinking that It's a bad enough I watch so much TV and movies, now I'm reading a whole magazine devoted to it. Before you say anything I know they do a segment on books and theatre, but really who are we kidding here? I only read that part when they said something about Harry Potter.
So when my subscription to Entertainment Weekly finally came to an end I said, "no more." I will no longer buy into this mind numbing sludge. If I am going to read I shall read something that will stimulate my brain and maybe even give me some material. So I subscribed to Time Magazine (got a nifty gift that I re-gifted for Christmas too).
Here's the thing, I can't get thru the whole magazine. I'm not talking about skipping one or two articles that no one really cares about...I can't read a whole article. If I force myself I can read the "notebook" section of Time. That's the part that has milestones, who dies who got fired etc. I also enjoy the page with quotes on it because let's face it, there only a sentence long, I can handle that. Thank God there was a long article on Bill Murray that so far has nice photo's around all those words. I will say that Donna Frye is on page 19 of this weeks Time Magazine, her husband is making me a surfboard so in a way it's kind of like I'm in the magazine right?
I didn't use to be this slow really I swear it! At one point I went to a University and I even graduated from it, eventually. I know I read then. I even wrote papers that were long and had big words in them. Oh but do you know what my major was? Media Communications! I just read Entertainment Weekly type articles and books. Will the circle be broken? Let's hope my future husband is smart enough so my children will one day be able to function normally despite their half mutated genes.

Monday, January 03, 2005

An Open Letter to the Lady at the YMCA

Dear lady in my triple fat burner class,
You make me angry. I go to the class and stand in the back corner of the room. I am there to burn fat at three times the speed of sound. You on the other hand think it is your time to shine as an Olivia Newton John stunt double. Don't get me wrong, your headband and tight Lycra outfits are very pretty but you are distracting. Everyone else in the triple fat burner class listens to the nice instructor when she says, "basic right for two". We all go up with our right foot twice but not you. You climb up on your step and do a jump and a twist in the air while clapping. This move is great and you should be very proud of it, but you need to stop. You need to stop because I cannot concentrate on burning fat at three times the speed of sound when I want to smack you over the head. I am a nice Catholic girl but you are causing me to sin with these thoughts of causing you bodily harm.
Also, please stop hooting and screaming like you are watching the Chargers win the Super Bowl. We are at the YMCA, in Oceanside and we are not having fun, we are burning fat at three times the speed of sound. I do not mean to judge you, but please stay home next Monday night if you can't burn fat at three times the speed of sound like everyone else.

Thank you,

Judy McDonald

Sunday, January 02, 2005

I'll Sit On Your House

I have been House sitting a lot; it's kind of my day job. It's fun to see how the other half lives...those who don't live with their parents. It really not that hard, it's almost like acting. You take the roll on as a home owner and a pet owner. It's like your getting paid for playing house.

Your relationship is always different with the people after you house sit for them. Maybe you've found something you know they would just die if they knew you saw. Or even better they have a horrible disgusting secret and they think you found it when really you just clogged their downstairs toilet.

I house sit a for my uncle and he has these two little poodles. They are older dogs and they bark at anything that moves. Late at night I often think, what good are they if someone breaks in? In the middle of the night the man with an axe and a hockey mask breaks in looking to fill his monthly killing quota of, these little furry hamsters aren't going to help me . If anything they are going to make the crazy killer's job easier by barking till he finds us in the huge house.

House sitting with big dogs doesn't give me anymore peace of mind. Last night I was watching tv in the house in Fallbrook, no neighbors for miles, no curtains nothing but groves and axe wielding midget clowns. The two big dogs started to growl and bark at the closet. I think they do it just to mess with my head so I went to bed. This morning when I woke up I found a midget clown outfit and a bloody axe outside my room. Ok not really, but that would be really scary if that happened...can you imagine? House sitting in Fallbrook!

Saturday, January 01, 2005

2005 - Big Whoop

So far 2005 was just like 2004 except...different.