My parents are boring

It's New Year's Eve and Mom and Dad can't figure out what to wear. Mom wants to look "nice and hot." So she's now tried on about a thousand different outfits trying to look like both of those things and nothing is working.

Dad's actually going to change. He's going to finally take off his euro-excersize outfit, a sleeveless number that is the exact same color of his skin...pink.

Dad: "I'm going to wear the green plaid jacket."

Mom: "Oh, I LOVE that jacket. You look so handsome and Irish in it."

Then Dad started to shave while Finley barked her head off at the firecrackers and I tried to nap.

Dad: "It's been ten years since my Dad died, ten years that I've had diabetes, I haven't excercized in ten years and I'm a worthless shmuck."

Mom: (painting her face in the mirror) "You have such a low opinion of yourself, you must think I'm really worthless then. I'm just your tick."

Dad: "No, you're a woman. It's a five letter word for tick."

Mom: "That's nice for New Year's Eve. I'm your tick. Thanks a lot. "

Dad: (wiping the rest of the shaving cream off his face) "I'm just lucky some dumber people than me gave me a lot of money. Money made by people smarter than both of us."

Mom: "So you're a worthless shmuck and I'm your tick."

Dad: "That's right, I'm a piece of shit with a lot of money and you're the tick that feeds off me."

Santa was here! 

Christmas in Nice, France, Europe

It's holiday season in Nice, France, Europe and the palm trees lining the Promenade des Anglais (the main drag on the beach) are wrapped up in lights. The French dogs are all dressed up in crazy outfits and the smells of delicious Christmas food are floating out of every window.

Mom and I went to the outdoor market to get some salade and while Mom was talking to the vegetable man about some tomatoes, the butcher from the next stand got all excited and called out to Mom.

French butcher: "Madame! Eeeeet's been so long! Deeeeed you leave your husband in America zeees time? I hope so. Look! I 'ave some fantastique farming cheeeeckens for you!"

The butcher was shaking a chicken at Mom and she was horrified. The head on the chicken had all of its feathers and its crown so it looked like it was just sleeping. The butcher kept shaking the dead chicken, making its head flop around while he was flirting with Mom... he was literally choking his chicken.

Mom: "Yes, my husband is here in France. And PLEASE, would you not shake the poor thing in my face? Don't show me the chicken! I'm very sensitive! Poor thing, no I'm just here for some salad next door."

French butcher: "Ah! On top of your beauty, you are sensitive too? Don't tell your husband but I will never forget that time I saw you at zee flower market downtown and you were wearing a blue summer dress and carrying a basket of roses...ah you were a vision. Please! Let me give you some meat, I insist."

Mom: "No thank you, really. I just want vegetables, really. Good day Monsieur. The bloody apron is a real turn-on though."

This Christmas, Dad splurged on a tree but Mom thinks it's puny for the gigantic living room.

Mom: "Look at it. It looks ridiculous! It's a chiseller's tree, a dwarf tree, a cheapo tree. We should have gotten a bigger tree for this room."

Dad: "Well that's all the Christmas we're going to get. You got an apartment in France. That should hold you over for a couple of Christmases I hope."

Mom: "You're so Bah Humbuggish. Oh well, I'll get some cute balls and we'll decorate it the best we can. (really sarcastic) Don't worry, I'll go to the cheap store and get the smallest balls I can find."

Then Mom, Finley and I went out again in search of tiny silver balls to hang on the mini-tree and we found a cheap, stuffed Santa for 1 Euro ($1.18) .

As soon as we got home, Finley got a hold of Santa and ripped him to shreds. All that was left of him was the head.

Dad: (holding up the decapitated Santa head) "Look! It's Merry Christmas from Al Queida!"

Then Dad pulled his black turtle neck over his face like a terrorist and put on a Bin Laden accent.

Dad: "No more Santa for you! We have cut off his head. Santa is the infidel son of pigs and dogs!"
I can understand why Dad isn't so gung ho about Christmas. I've always believed in Santa but lately I've got a problem with Santa that's been bothering me. Why does Santa give way more stuff to rich people? I mean he's supposed to give you stuff if you're nice, not rich.

Mom and Dad are getting thrown out of Hollywood. 

Suspended from Hollywood

I think we've been suspended because Mom and Dad were bad. Well Dad was bad and Mom is just old.

Dad is so disgusted with show business that he completely forgot he had a meeting. He was a no-show with the head of reality programming at some network. While we were getting water logged in the Jacuzzi, Dad’s agent called.

Dad’s agent: “What are you doing?”

Dad: “Oh, just having a glass of wine in the Jacuzzi with my Minky.

Dad’s agent: “Your Minky? What's a Minky?"

Dad: "My dog, Minky... Jinky, Stinky, Minky. We're having a glass of vino here in the hot tub."

Dad's agent: "You had a meeting you were supposed to go to! They’re calling to find out what happened!”

Dad: (laughing) “Oh, man I’m so sorry…they’re not going to do a show with me anyway. I’m just a pre-holiday schedule filler.”

That’s how out of it Dad is this week.

Dad: “Reschedule it and I’ll tell them my idea for a show where a desperate guy kidnaps a bunch of network execs and throws them into a putrid swamp—an alligator-filled jungle. Every episode, one of them gets eaten by a giant snake or mauled by an angry gila monster.”

Mom’s not doing much better than Dad. She had a pre-holiday audition for a show called Cold Case and she’s really depressed about it because the name of the role is “Old Sloane.” Apparently, this show is about young criminals and old witnesses and guess what Mom would play.

So Mom went and read for the old role and she got called back for producers. Call backs are hard on Mom because she always gets the same feedback.

Mom’s agent: “They LOVED you but they are going another way.”

Mom: “I get it. They LOVE me but they love someone else more, is that it? I’m done. Get me outta here. I’ve had enough rejection this year.”

Then Mom and Dad made plane reservations for us to leave Hollywood and go back to Nice, France, Europe so that they wouldn’t kill themselves this holiday season.

Demonic, evil, scurrilous and bad

We're FIRED!

We’re Fired!

We got fired by our housekeeper.

Our house is pretty grimy. At the end of the week, we’ve got food, dog and cat hair, puked up left-overs and mud caked into the floor boards. The beds and couches all need a good airing out and piles of underwear and socks litter the bedroom.

That’s when Consuela comes over. But she’s not going to come over any more because she hates Mom. She hates Mom because of the books Mom has on the coffee table and because Mom doesn’t go to Church every day.

Consuela doesn’t want to dust the coffee table until Mom removes certain books. Consuela wants to burn the books in the fireplace. The books are: “Sex Lives of the Popes” and “The Devil, a Visual Guide to the Demonic, Evil, Scurrilous and Bad.”

Mom and Consuela don’t agree on certain issues. Mom thinks these books are fun and informative and that the house can be cleaned for $20 an hour without being harassed by a grand inquisitor with a dust mop. Consuela wants Mom to burn in Hell.

Mom believes in tolerance and she thinks people should believe whatever they want. I believe in Santa Clause and Mom doesn’t but that doesn’t cause any problems between us at Christmas. I also believe in the tooth fairy and look forward to losing my teeth when I get older so I can find treats under the pillow. But Consuela is always trying to convert Mom and it doesn’t work.

Consuela: “What are joo doing for Easter this jeer?”

Mom: “You ask me this every year, Consuela. I’m doing exactly what you do for Passover—nothing.”

Consuela fired us the next day. I’m glad she fired us. She didn’t like me or Finley or Stupid Kitty. She would always look at me from the corner of her eye like she wanted me to drop dead.

We got a new housekeeper who likes us now.