January 11, 2018

January 11

Filed under: Uncategorized — theresaurus @ 11:47 pm

While watching the news last night, Sam made a joke about Trump. I jot down his jokes and puns to not only remember the good ones but to make him feel good — I’m an appreciative audience — and I wrote down the punchline: “Thumbs down.” But looking at it later, I couldn’t remember why that was funny and neither could he. Must take better notes. At least I remember his latest pun: What do ninjas drink? Ninja ale.

From Andy Cohen’s “Superficial, More Adventures from the Andy Cohen Diaries”:

Wednesday, November 12, 2014.  Taped The Meredith Vieira Show; they had Doritos in the greenroom (I guess they paid attention to the book) and I gorged on them. Ryan got sick watching me suck the flavor off and asked if that’s what I do. So I guess my own Bravo publicist didn’t read my book in which I detail sucking the flavor off Doritos? The scuttlebutt backstage was that Streisand had been there the day before and wanted all the orange removed from the set. Any trace of orange had to be gone. But she asked for cantaloupe and cheddar cheese in the greenroom. Both orange! What does it mean?

Monday, February 1, 2015.  It was snowy and slushy and rainy today and so I went for it and had a can of SpaghettiOs … . It was glory in a bowl. Delightful. Delicious. I don’t know when the last time I had them was, or when I will ever have them again, but the taste brought me back to the thousands of cans of SpaghettiOs I ate at the kitchen table at 7710 West Biltmore Drive. I wasn’t a latchkey child … but for some reason I only have memories of ‘fixing’ myself SpaghettiOs alone at that kitchen table, using nacho-cheese Doritos as spoons to make the experience as rich as possible.

Sunday, June 14, 2015 — Fire Island — NYC.  I reset all my emojis to black people because I like them better and then took the ferry home with three brothers. One of them wound up putting his number in my phone and I texted him back applause, but they were black hands and I felt weird — like, did he think I reset my emojis to black people for him? Life is a minefield.

Saturday, January 23, 2016 — Los Angeles.  It’s a snowstorm shitshow in New York, and all anyone here can say is, ‘Aren’t you glad you’re here and not in the snow?’ Then they get a monologue from me about not liking to miss a snowstorm and enjoying being hunkered down with my dog in my apartment and how quiet and romantic the city gets … I’d be enjoying my gold Christmas tree, which I still haven’t taken down. I lose them when I mention the Christmas tree.

Sunday, January 31, 2016 — Columbus — NYC.  On the plane home the woman next to me kept asking me who I was and I kept saying, ‘Nobody.’ … I finally told her I host a talk show. If someone doesn’t know me, then isn’t it weird to have to explain who I am? I mean, who are you? We’re even.

Tuesday, March 8, 2016.  Got a tweet from a lady saying she was bored with my guests last night and I need to step it up. … I wrote and deleted three nasty responses to this lady with impossibly high standards. Then I looked at her profile and she’s a massive Trump fan and that’s all I needed to know. I responded that I would try to round up a gaggle of Donald’s ex-wives, maybe that’d entertain her. All I do is fight with Trump supporters on Twitter. I cannot stop myself. The man is disgusting me in ways I didn’t know I could be disgusted and the media is playing into his hands. He’s a thin-skinned, flip-flopping orange sham who has manipulated them perfectly. … The vulgarity at the debate the other night went too far — and this is the Housewives guy saying it.

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