Author Archives: Kathleen

For people who don’t golf, the Masters is a tournament played in Augusta, Georgia every April. It’s one of the four “major” tournaments and the only one always played at the same course. It is so revered that many times when the announcers speak, there’s soft guitar music being played in the background for a reason never explained. I think if that was done in real life, it would greatly reduce violence. It’s hard to get angry while falling asleep to soft guitar chords echoing in your ear.

There’s been a lot of arguing lately about their “no women allowed as members” policy. The last time I’d heard of such a thing was on the Little Rascals. But I’ve known about their policy for quite awhile because I like to watch and play golf. However, this policy did not stop me last week from running right in that gate as if my ass was on fire with a free practice round ticket and a credit card to buy shirts for everyone in my life that has been on good behavior. I even bought beach towels. Yes, they have Masters beach towels. Pink was sold out so I bought green. So, I can’t really speak of taking the high road or being morally sound because I’m clearly a souvenir/ free ticket whore. But I can speak on what I just don’t understand.

One guy online actually wrote this regarding the “no women allowed as members” policy:

CURVES is all women and you don’t see men throwing a fit.

Ok, first of all sir, how do you know that? Weird, sir. Weird. Secondly, are you really going to compare CURVES to the Masters? CURVES, for those of you who don’t know, is an exercise facility usually found in strip malls and it’s for women and usually women my mom’s age who don’t want to be seen in shorts EVER again if they can help it. They’ve also been hiding their weight for 70 years from everyone, including themselves, and would like to continue to do so. There are no souvenirs, no televised event, definitely no snacks and no corporate sponsors. Reading that online comment is why I have to tell myself to stop reading “comments” online. The level of arguing is even below my level and my level is not that high. My level usually concludes with, “Yeah, well, whatever, fuckface.” Not very adult, but at least I’m not reaching for ridiculous comparisons.

People argue, “Well it’s a private club. They can be as sexist and racist as they want.” This was true for many years, but as the Masters grew in popularity, more people became shocked and outraged about the fact they also didn’t let African American men become members AND, here’s the big AND, shocked and outraged that major corporations were sponsoring it. They finally let African American men become members in 1990. Yes, 1990. Very few became outraged that they still won’t let women become members. I didn’t. And that’s why I’m lame. I didn’t because I’ve never want to be a member of somewhere I’m not wanted. I’m not a fighter. I’m a walk away-er. I’m not saying this is a good thing. It’s why I would have been a terrible women’s right’s lady. “Well if they don’t want us to vote, then whatever. I’ll be at the bar. Let them pick whatever jackass they want. I’m too tired to fight these morons. I was going to have a glass of wine but while you’ve all been arguing about voting, I just made up a new cocktail in my head.” That’s usually my attitude. Thank god other women have more zip and care more than me. If I were in charge, we’d still all be sitting around in those weird dresses sipping tea, playing Chinese checkers and adjusting our uncomfortable hats.

But I really don’t want to go where I’m not wanted. I was just told recently (2 months ago) by a major television network I couldn’t play in a televised golf tournament because there are no women playing right now. They PUT THAT IN WRITING AND HIT SEND. What does that even mean? Well clearly there are none playing because you said so. I had already been invited by someone associated with it and then uninvited by a network. I didn’t ask to be in it to begin with. That’s what makes it extra bizarre. I’m sitting here minding my own business and all this went on in emails. They’re lucky they sent that answer back to a lazy women who just went, “Well that blows. Assholes. I’m never watching that channel again. Unless they move DEXTER to that channel and then I’ll have to revert to my whorish behavior.” My friends said, “Well you should fight that.” I just don’t have the energy and then if I win the fight, I get there and I’m “that lady.” No thanks. I’ll go play with my normal guy friends who like women and value my straight drives in a scramble.

I just don’t understand why men wouldn’t want women around. I don’t know men like that. Or maybe I do but they just don’t tell me which is fine because then I don’t know. What exactly is the perk of no women? Are strippers being brought in? Hookers? What is the secret? I seriously don’t understand. Sometimes we hear them say “it’s tradition.” Ok, we know that. But again, why? Traditions usually mean a comfortable fun repetitive thing. Are these guys not comfortable around women? WTF is going on in there that no black people or women should see? I don’t care if you have strippers or hookers. I mean, unless I’m your wife. That would be weird and probably a cause for a talk but otherwise, whatever. I’ve seen tons of hookers at the video poker bars in Las Vegas and regardless of what they’re up to, they always add a little extra pizzazz to a bar and always have an interesting background if you just ask them. Here’s what I know for sure, hookers are NEVER boring conversationalists.

For non golf fans, the topic is extra on fire because normally the Masters top secret membership group allows the CEO of IBM–one of its major sponsors–to become an honorary member. Well, whamo, this year IBM hired a woman. Now what? I think they’ll let her in but not until no one is paying attention and then there will be some weird small press release saying they did. They can save face and act like it wasn’t “at the point of a bayonet.” That is the phrase the last president of Augusta used regarding when they would let women become members. A bayonet? Wow. Who still has Civil War weaponry references in their day to day vocabulary? Oh, right, they do. And if I was this female CEO of IBM and they let me in, I’d run my ass right down there and play. Well, in my mind I would, but if they told me I couldn’t take a cart, I’d probably just play #16 because it’s the nicest hole. Then, I’d go to the bar and get stared at for an uncomfortable amount of time and then, of course, hit the souvenir shop on my out.

P.S…my favorite golfer is Miguel Jiminez…he drinks, smokes, has an extra 5 lbs of belly and laughs. He is nice to the fans. Clearly, he knows golf isn’t everything. Having fun is supposed to be part of all of it too. He’s also only two years older than me but looks ten years older which makes me feel good about myself.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Please read no further if you have no sense of humor.

I’m exasperated with the amount of people who take me seriously on here and twitter. Christ, I don’t hide under a false pretense. It says everywhere, “Comedian. Jackass. Barely paid attention in college. Slept through grade school. Is barely awake now.” So, fun people, read on. Everyone else, ahhhh, move on to serious people with serious thoughts. I’d recommend George Will. He’s very serious. And seemingly smart. So, see, I’ll even guide you to your true leaders.

Now with that out of the way, I’m sorry I’ve been absent here. I’ve been doing theater gigs, The Tonight Show and on the Lewis Black Comedy Cruise which I’m convinced was captained by a raging Swedish alcoholic. Those were not “small waves” sir, but ok, I’ll have another Monkey Ass Rum Punch and act like nothing is happening and hope the Dramamine kicks in and the rum stays down before I move onto beer.

The Republican Debate was this week and even though I tweeted, thought I’d sum it up for those of you who don’t have the time or inclination for Twitter.

Newt–AKA Leroy McPherson (WHYYYY he doesn’t go by his REAL name is beyond me. WHO THE FUCK doesn’t wanna hang out with Leroy McPherson??? God knows I do.) dug a hole in the debate this week by presenting an immigration plan which involves how long you’ve been here, if you go to church and ahhhhh, something else. Whatever it was, the Republicans don’t like it AT ALL and he’s being nailed today. He’s confident and as he gains in the polls, he’s gaining pounds. I think he may have eaten Chris Christy. Someone check New Jersey. Newt always comes off as the smartest, save for Ron Paul who is in the “alien” category. He uses words to bitch slap other people like, “well Mitt is FUNDAMENTALLY wrong.” So, in other words, Mitt is such a fundamental, colossal moron, I’m just going to move on. Then he quotes something from the 1800′s which no one knows for sure if it’s true, but it sounds right. It’s a good strategy and it works. I think Newt will weather this recent storm as all the other storms and my money is on him, minus any late entries, on being the nominee.

Mitt—Oh, Mitt. He threw an Al Gore fit when Ron Paul bitch slapped him regarding his comment about foreign aid. Ron saying, “Ahhh, Mr. Romney, we don’t even have money right now.” SMACK! Ron, as usual, was laying out the actual truth that no one–democrats or republicans–wants to hear, and Mitt basically stomped his feet and behaved like a teenage girl who was just told she can’t go out. It’s been five years and no one likes Mitt and no one knows why. I feel sorry for the guy. I’m sure he wakes up and thinks, “I like me. My wife likes me. What is the problem?” Well, we don’t know, Mitt. It’s just a people thing and we innately feel you’re not a real person. He’s in favor of sending all illegals back. Even if one agrees with this, HOW? In LA, we have so few cops, if you have a car accident, they won’t even come unless someone is hurt. So who is going to do this? Then I thought, well, my parents are retired and like driving places and getting cheap medicine, maybe we could have retired people drive illegal aliens back to wherever and get their Lipitor for $4.00.

Cain—Cain gives the answer I love to give when I don’t know the answer, which is most of the time. “Oh, well, if I were in that situation, I’d ask some people that know more than me, which would be everybody.” He clearly knows nothing about foreign policy but some people are ok with that. He didn’t have any snappy phrases or funny lines, which is his strong suit, so bad night for Herman. He’ll get speaking gigs when this is over but I’d say that’s the best he can hope for.

Bachman–People say it’s unfair to criticize her looks because she’s a woman. No. I criticize chubby Newt for eating all of Herman’s pizza so looks are fair game.

Her hair was perfect. Good job, Marcus. The makeup room must have had dim lighting, though, because the makeup was a tad off the rails. Every time they say she’s on our “intelligence committee” I think about the other people on that committee that have to listen to her talk and wonder how they resist shoving their heads into the pitcher of water in the middle of the table. She held her own…if you can follow her. I get lost. She starts out with a normal sentence and then it’s just goes bananas. Newt looked like he wanted to punch her in the face and tried to hide it by turning away, but was then forced to look at Mitt’s weird smile. Tough choice. Stare at Huntsman. He’s normal.

Huntsman–Once again, I don’t know why he just doesn’t answer every question in fluent Chinese and act like that’s normal. I would. At least I’d be the talk of the debate and no one could refute what I said. Suck it, Santorum. You’ve no clue that I just said you look like a chubster from the side camera angle. Huntsman is always normal and rational. I don’t understand why the Republicans don’t like him. He’s also selling beer koozies (check my next blog for this breakdown) on his website for $7.50 that are tasteful and pretty which makes me love him even more. And yes I know he’s a Mormon, but we all know koozies are for beer. Let’s not act like we like soda enough to invest $7.50. He had his best debate which means he’ll move from 3 percent to 4 percent.

Santorum—Rick is what happens when Catholics take their religion seriously. Most of us don’t. We leave that up to priests and nuns. We get the gist of it and try to be nice people who enjoy a fish fry and a drink. He couldn’t even win re-election in his own state so I’m not sure why he’s gunning for the top butttttt maybe he’s not. He may be running for #2. If so, he did fine. Actually did well for him. His weird, “why are you talking to me?” look was not there which seems to be his biggest problem.

Rick Perry—HOW DID TEXAS DO THIS 3 TIMES??? WHAT IS THE REST OF AMERICA MISSING IN THIS DUDE? WOW. I love Austin. I love Houston (my favorite bar EVER was in Houston…The Aquarium Lounge..that’s just a shout out to true alcoholics) I’ve gotten pleasantly hammered in Dallas at least 20 times but dear god. Maybe he reallllllly knows Texas well and that’s his expertise but he and Cain couldn’t put a puzzle map of the U.S together if they were given a 6 state start much less talk about foreign policy. There’s verrrrrry few moments in a debate where I think, “Oh my god. I’m smarter than that person.” It’s an awful thought that I don’t ever wanna have but 5 out of 10 times when Perry speaks, that’s what runs through my tiny mind. If Texas really ever does become it’s own country, maybe he could be the president of that. He’s to the point that when he speaks, no one else even addresses what he says. He did, at least, not forget what he was talking about in mid sentence which is something I do at least six times a day and felt bad for the guy during that debacle.

Ron Paul—First of all, his suit fit! Whaaaa? He didn’t have that weird collar gag he usually has. Points for style, Ron. Points. As I say in my act, he’s your crazy grandpa at Thanksgiving shouting shit out. We alllll know he’s right but you just can’t do that. We don’t know why. We know you just can’t. We’d have to start from scratch and no one knows how to do that and you, Ron, are too small and strange to convince us to follow you. There’s things I completely disagree with him on but there are some things that he says in front of an all conservative audience that take the balls of Attila the Hun. I don’t know what he’s aiming for because he clearly won’t be the nominee, but, maybe, he actually just believes in what he’s saying. That would be weird huh? He hates the patriot act for limiting our freedom. Me too Ron. I’m tired of taking off my shoes at the airport because ONE NUTBAG, ONE in 400 MILLION, put fireworks in his shoe. That’s living in fear. I’m a gambler. I say shoes on, let’s take our chances. His foreign policy is basically, we don’t need to be anywhere but here and everyone else’s problems are their own. Hard to argue looking at the trillion spent in Iraq and Afghanistan and after being in both places twice, I’m with Ron. Would have been better to fix pot holes here. As a start. We could do more than fix potholes with a trillion. We could probably even build my fantasy bullet train from Vegas to Everywhere. Ron won’t prevail but at least someone is standing there saying, “quite frankly, this whole discussion is bullshit because nothing anyone’s talking about is real.” The problem is, we’ve all been taught that it is real. We know it’s kind of not and we know Ron is kinda right but it’s too scary to just dynamite the house when we don’t even know if there’s an apartment for rent.

So, with that said, I’m off to Las Vegas for Thanksgiving. I will be thankful the Lions are actually reasonably good this year and may actually provide a game for us to watch, thankful that video poker was invented, thankful that after working in Vegas for 23 years I keep getting paid a little more and treated a little better, thankful that Harrah’s never changes it’s floor plan and I know exactly where my good machines are, thankful that people can still smoke and drink and be complete degenerates and it’s encouraged and thankful that I will be flying on a day when hopefully no one else feels normal doing that. I have 6 siblings so no one will notice till around 9 pm that I’m not there which is spectacular. I’ll be there for Christmas which is really my favorite holiday anyway. The only way Thanksgiving could be better is if I was eating Thanksgiving dinner at an Indian Casino Buffet. That would be the twitter picture of the decade. Ohhhhh, the irony. Everything comes around in a big circle if you wait long enough. Maybe next year. The Potawatomi tribe loves me. So do the Mohegans. I know more about Indians from casinos than I ever learned in school. Education through gambling and jokes. IIIIII like it.

Over and Out. Happy Thanksgiving.

The Presidential Race is already starting again. It’s way too early, but so far I’m voting ‘no’ for everyone.

2012 Presidential Candidates:

Michelle Bachmann

No. Mainly because there are audio tapes of her saying we are in “the last days” and the rapture is soon upon us. I don’t want a president who thinks it’s last call. I know how I behave at last call and it’s reckless, argumentative and ridiculous. She’s also called herself a doctor when she didn’t have any degrees that would make her an actual doctor of anything. I thought only comedians did that when you get to check the box on an airline website for your “title.” We only do it to make ourselves laugh. “Welcome to American Airlines Dr. Madigan.” Then I laugh quietly inside my head. I’m not actually psycho enough to make that claim in public. She also doesn’t know when Elvis died. That’s the last straw for me.

Ron Paul

No. Ron wants a revolution, and frankly who doesn’t like a good revolution, but he’s too thin. In order for me to follow someone down a road of complete destruction and reconstruction, they would have to weigh more than my Mom for me to feel secure. If he gained 30 pounds, I’d reconsider. And his son appears to be a bit psycho so whatever you said at the supper table didn’t come across quite right to Junior.

Newt Gingrich

No. Probably the most intelligent and well informed guy out there, but I’ve let go of all of my day glow accessories, so I can’t go back to the 80′s. And if your election teams keep running from the office as if their asses are on fire, you must be a dick. There are so few jobs, you must be a colossal asshole if your employees are running out screaming “I quit! I quit! I’d rather starve than see your fat ass one more day of my life.” I did, however, enjoy his bitch slapping of Chris Wallace during the last debate. Newt’s middle name is Leroy. I’d vote for him if he went by Leroy Gingrich. Just because we’ve never had a Leroy as president.

Mitt Romney

No. I don’t believe he an actual person. He and his family look like the pictures of the families already in the frames when you buy them…nice, well groomed, but not real. He claims he’s never had a drink, smoke or drug in his life. Well, now you’ve made me think you’re sleeping with a goat. Something has to be going on to relieve stress and if it’s not one of the three above, it only gets weirder from there. The only person more boring is John Kerry. If they ran against each other, I believe it would be a zero-zero tie.

Barack Obama

No. He keeps telling us he needs our help. Well, as it turns out, we’re busy. We expected you to do this shit. And 9 out of 10 of us don’t know who our Congressmen, Reps or Senators are, so stop telling us to email them. Email us who they are with a link and a box to check and mayyyybbe we’ll do that.

Rick Perry

No. I’ve had a lot of fun in Texas over the years and met some fun people but I can’t handle another four years of someone saying, “this is how we do it in Texas…” We knowwww how you’d do it in Texas…George told us that shit for years. And he doesn’t believe in global warming. I don’t understand science but there are YouTube videos of polar bears sweating their asses of on icebergs drinking Coronas in the north pole. Something is fucked up, Rick. Maybe it doesn’t even matter if it is fucked up, but at least admit something is happening. I’m tripping over armadillos on my Missouri farm. ARMADILLOS in Missouri. When I was a kid, those only lived in Texas and Mexico. We only saw them in movies. Not normal. Again, I have no facts to back me up, just armadillos having Rave parties on my property.

Jon Huntsman

No one knows enough about this guy. That’s weird when you’re running for office. You know, to remain obscure and elusive. He didn’t say much at the debate. Just kinda stood there. Maybe that’s what we need. A president no one knows anything about. He looks like a president. He has a normal name. He hasn’t said anything too fucked up. That may be the most we can hope for at this point. Gene Simmons likes him and I like Gene Simmons and since I’m lazy and Gene’s not, I’ll at least consider not making a judgement on the mystery man just yet.

Ok, I’m off to shoot another armadillo. Before I shoot, I count to 10 in Spanish. Since they’re originally from Mexico I like to give them a fair chance to run and a fair warning in their native tongue.

Chaz Bono was on Oprah this week to discuss her transition to becoming a man. I’ve watched those specials on TV about people who feel trapped in the wrong body and I believe them. They all say they wanna kill themselves if they can’t switch so I’m gonna go ahead and say they’re telling the truth. I’ve also watched 10 Larry King shows where he’s tried to understand these people but can’t and still can’t understand who they’re sleeping with now or why. “Wait, are you gay? You were gay and you’re still gay? Why? Are you straight? Do the parts work? Who’d you like before? Men or women? Let’s take a break.” Yes, Larry, let’s do. Larry trying to understand is more entertaining than if Larry actually became a woman. I feel happy that Chaz has gone ahead and gotten the surgery that will finally make her feel like she’s in the right body. I can’t imagine feeling like you’re in the wrong body. As much as I’ve drank and smoked, I can’t even really feel my own body and that’s fine with me.

I’m Chaz’s age and I can’t imagine having the energy to have elective surgery of any kind. I’m too tired to go to Lens Crafters. I know I should. Everyday I feel like my contacts are in the wrong eyes and everything is slightly sideways, but not sideways enough for me to drive anywhere to get anything done about it. I can’t imagine telling my family that the whole time they’ve know me I really wanted to be a man. They’re pretty open minded but this sort of announcement would definitely ruin Christmas. One year, my youngest brother said he might not take anything seriously for awhile after college and instead just travel around with a backpack or bartend in Chicago for fun. I thought my Dad was going to lean over the mashed potatoes and punch him in the face. “Travel around? Whadda think, you’re Jesus? You can’t just wander around. You’re going to get a job and act like a normal person. Period.” My brother became a stockbroker.

If my brother had announced that instead of being Patrick, he wanted to be Patricia, it would have been the greatest moment of the rest of my and my siblings lives. Wow. He’s thrown down the last card! SHOCCCKING! There’s no fucking up beyond this! We’re free to have sex with a donkey! Not that we would, but that would still be less traumatic. “Hey, I was drunk in Tijuana, it was a dare, c’mon, it didn’t reallllly happen, just sorta drunken fun. I’m not marrying the donkey….or having a sex change….god, everyone relax and remind meeee to not tell you anything fun anymore.”

There’s nothing, ever, that I can think of, that would be more shocking to parents. And neither of my parents is CHER, although my Mom does have Cher ranked high on her Ipod and my father just keeps asking what kind of Indian she is. Cher made an announcement, I imagine after 65 shots of Mad Dog, saying she supports Chaz’s sex change surgery decision. My father’s announcement would have been something along the lines of, “Although my wife and I thought we loved our children unconditionally, as it turns out, we don’t. This little son of a bitch Patrick has lost his mind. When we said “our children” we meant the sex they were born so since he hasn’t kept up his end of the deal, neither are we. We are officially not talking to him anymore. We will play the Irish game of every other family member telling us about him and delivering messages on our behalf but we are done speaking to him directly. We will keep him in the will as PATRICK but no one named PATRICIA will be picking up an inheritance check which at this point, to cope with this news, will probably be gambled away at an Indian Casino because my wife and I forget all our problems when we gamble. I was going to leave him my hunting rifles and a nice lawn mower but since he’s chosen to become a woman, I’m now leaving those things to my sons who have not lost their goddamn minds.”

Somehow, my dad would also find someone on my Mom’s side of the family to blame. “Well look at your Uncle Hibby. He wasn’t right. Everyone knew he was a little fruit.” My mom would ignore these comments knowing full well his uncle Neil used to be a woman named Nellie. As his sibling, I’d go along with Patrick’s “journey” because he let us all off the shock hook and I’d hope and pray that he would not look better than me as a woman. That would be just depressing enough for me to wanna become a man.