Melissa Surach 2007 Calendar has been posted.

Ever wonder why I think I'm so great I have a calendar all to myself? The reason is that I'm the only model I can afford.

The final pictures from my 2007 Calendar have been posted on myspace and facebook. Look at them and you can see if you wanna buy the 2008 Calendar.

Facebook Vampires and Facebook Zombies

I still don't know how to use Facebook. My friend bit me and tried to make me a vampire and zombie at the same time. I don't know if I want to be either. I guess I'd rather be a vampire. My boyfriend believes in zombies and has nightmares and one time he tried to kill me in my sleep.

Facebook is emailist. It won't let me be in the McGill University network because I don't have a valid McGill email address even though there's a diploma on my wall. The only reason I can think of still having a McGill email address four years after graduation is being a big giant nerd. So I guess I'm glad I'm not associated with those losers.

Larry The Cable Guy 2008 Calendar VS. Melissa Surach 2008 Calendar

My boyfriend gave me the Larry the Cable Guy "Git-R-Done Deer Huntin'" 2008 Calendar and stated that it was better than mine.

To this I responded, "Shut up."

Here is a list of comparisons:

-Larry the Cable Guy's Calendar makes money. Melissa's calendar lost $15 last year.

-The crux of Larry the Cable Guy's Calendar is killing animals. Melissa only kills herself.

-Many of the pictures in Larry's calendar are promos for movies he was in. Many of the pictures in Melissa's calendar were promos for the calendar she's in.

-Larry the Cable Guy's Calendar is cheaper and more durable than Melissa's and the design is more professional. It was also probably mass manufactured in China and available in Walmart. Melissa Surach's Calendar was manufactured by Melissa Surach and is available through Melissa Surach. It is printed locally at an independent printer in small batches. And I doubt Larry the Cable Guy wrote, designed or directed any of it.

-Larry's calendar features poorly or obviously Photoshopped graphics. So does Melissa's. But in many cases, Larry's clothes and accessories are added on like a paper doll. In fact, it looks like he was taken out of a movie and never even posed for a scene. Melissa owns two closets of costumes and is bad at Photoshop so she HAS to pose in a scene.

-Larry the Cable Guy's Calendar is 16 months. But four of those months are in 2007 and you have to look at a visually nearly-incomprehensible and unsatisfying joke of Larry sleeping while a deer eats his food. Melissa Surach's Calendar is 12 months and now she is thinking of adding a half-sized January with an adorable picture like this with a joke like, "This is how Polish people apply makeup. I mean, Polish babies." or something. I don't know I just thought of it now I'll come up with something better.
Maybe Larry's calendar IS better than mine. But he doesn't live below the poverty line.

CALENDAR RELEASE PARTY TUESDAY, JANUARY 8TH, 2008 AT TOY EATERS.

Wedding Balls

Last night I went with to a stranger's wedding.

Dressing myself, I realized that all of my clothes are hideous, cheap and ill-fitting. My New Year's Resolution is to stop getting my clothes from Grandma's gate sales.

My sisters now tell me that I dress like a 6-year-old girl, which is better than "6-year-old boy," which was last year's style.

New sketches

So me and Rosie Rebel just started writing sketches. If things go accordingly, expect an entire sketch show about testicles in a month or so.

BlackHole: The Resurrection

Blackhole was the first comedy show I produced, and it got me fired from Maxwell's and got me sent hatemail, and did wonders for my self esteem, etc. I moved it to 58, but it's been on hiatus since the cops kept busting them.

But I talked to Dancing Tony last night and he told me that 58 is getting their paperwork in order and can have shows again.

It's been on hiatus since July, and I was about to give up on it and have a funeral. But now I can have a resurrection party, and maybe on the 2nd anniversary too.

The holidays are such a special time.

My blog's most popular keywords

My blog's readers must have tons of guilt, nipples in their armpits, and open sores.

The majority of them read it from Newark. A close second is New York. Verity has read it at least 86 times. My mom has only read it maybe 6 times. Let's try to make that 0 next year, mom.

Over the past year, my blog's most popular keywords have been: Melissa Surach, Surach, Ghetto Trash, Butt Cast, Butt Pillow, and Pornographic Pictures.

Over the past month: Melissa Surach, Surach, Ghetto Trash, Hoboken Noise Ordinance, and Melissa Surach Cover.

Over the past week: Melissa Surach, Surach, Tiny Vag, "Flaming Fire" "Patrick," and "Richard Kirkwood" Jersey City.

Over the past 24 hours: Buy Clams Casino, Melissa +Surach, Melissasurach, My Last Myspace Survey, and Myspace Survey Masturbate.

Other popular search keywords included Open Sores Pictures, Girl's Armpit Stubble Pictures, and BabyHole.

Ones that made me think about my content were Armpit Nipple, Cuntalina, Melisa Little Mutt, Testicular-Poetry, Where is my life going?, Peed in my Hair, Two Pounds of Cheese, Abortion Pics of Babies, Acne Versus Herpes on Face Pictures, Baron Vaughn is an Asshole, Can a dog get HPV?, Fear of Saran Wrap, Flies on Ethiopian Faces, Dread Pussy, Ghetto Puss, Horrible Smell in Pants, Herpes Guilt, Nut Butt, Scabby Dog Nipple, and there were also tons of Blood Blisters inquiries.

This is probably the kind of blog post that is only interesting to me.

Facebook

I joined Facebook like two weeks ago but I don't know how to use it. Will it drive me to the doctor's office?

Winter had a negative affect on my hygiene. Or does it?

It's too cold to get out of bed. It's too cold to shower. It's too cold to walk my dog.

I just got out of bed a half an hour ago. I haven't showered since Thursday. Dirty will be using a Wee Wee pad at night until March.

I'd be a lot more motivated to move if I actually had heat in my house instead of one space heater.

Merry Christmas, Clams Casino!

Well this week the ecny awards nominees came out and I thought that a bunch of them were crap. Especially for flier design, but also for most of them. I still voted.

This month I've been taking it easy doing shows so I can finish working on my calendar. It's been very slow going, and I've been accused of being lazy. It's not just that, it's because I live below the poverty line and I can't buy all the props. YOU KNOW PUSSY'S EXPENSIVE!

Another problem I have is that it's hard to shoot outside in 25 degrees in cheap, stained, ripped underwear when you're halfway sick. Poor people have chronic illnesses you know.

The Melissa Surach 2008 Calendar Release Party is scheduled for January 8, 2007 at Toy Eater's. The new calendar's half-sized, so it'll be cheaper than last year's. It will have more writing--it's going to be a Choose-Your-Own-Adventure.

I'm really excited for Christmas. My boyfriend and I are going to Atlantic City. I've never been there before. I want to gape at the prostitutes. Remember when they had that serial killer last year?

ATLANTIC CITY.(It wouldn't let me embed.)

(It would only let me embed this one which does not express the despair of the soul and dilapidation of cultural centers that is the New Jersey spirit as accurately.)

New BabyHole Flier

I'm sick in the head...

...because I have a head cold.

I can't stop coughing and I have a headache and sore throat and I feel so bad I have to take NyQuil tonight to go to sleep...

I mean slightly abuse NyQuil...

I mean purposely over dose on the generic night flu medication made in China from Fenny Pharmacy on Newark Avenue.

Jen sent me this graphic today...

...for her show in Brooklyn. I think that usually her face goes in the circle.


Her website is www.jenisfamous.com.

$1 shot in the stomach night

Last night at the bar I work at I introduced my Cheap Shots Menu.

There were 30 different shots, from Afterbirth to Washington Apple, that you could get for $1 and $5 for 7 shots from 7 pm to 8 pm. Then after 8 pm, they were $2.

The people who DID try them said that they weren't nearly as disgusting as they thought they'd be, and that they were in fact pretty tasty.

Obviously, I had to try them all to make sure I knew how to make them right and got their recipes right.

Obviously, now I have a stomach ache from the sugar in all the liqueurs.

Oh Razzmatazz!

Sloe Gin Special

Well, no one responded to my original "Sloe Gin and other Disgusting Liqueurs Special" promotion at the bar I work at.

I was selling drinks with gross liqueurs that are usually only served in shots ordered by frat boys for cheap. Had anyone ordered a Sloe Gin Fizz, they probably would have gotten it for a dollar or a smile.

Anyway, I'm making a drink menu and specials menu for the bar I work at. I'll put it up tomorrow. We'll have holiday specials, hot drinks for winter, an Old Man Drink Menu, and shots specials for a dollar or two, and cheap margaritas.

I'll definitely be selling cheap shots tomorrow.

BabyHole Revamp

Why you should go to Babyhole rather than be a homebody:

-It's the only place to see comedy in Jersey City by people who aren't old.
-BYO okay.
-Free vintage arcade games.

BabyHole Open Mic has a new format. From now on, the music portion of the open mic will be from 9:00 to 9:30, and all the comedy will be after that. Musical comedians can sign up for either portion.

Maxwell's is so dick.

Sunday was the Daniel Knepp Memorial Scholarship Benefit Concert at Maxwell's. I was the first act confirmed and had been booked for over two or three months. The lineup included me, Melissa Surach, The Coffin Daggers, Billy Pilgrim, and WJ & The Sweet Sacrifice.

However, the person in charge put everyone on the schedule except me, even though there's space, and despite repeated attempts by the promoters to rectify the print and online schedules, I was never added.

I circled the entry in green on this flier:


Because of this mistake, I didn't get the same treatment as the other performers, i.e. drink tickets and a meal. In the end my meal was comped, but I didn't get drink tickets like the other performers did.

Further complications ensued. The sound lady didn't believe that I was even booked. She thought I was some crazy lady trying to give her a cd, and had to confirm with the promoters.

But the worst part was yet to come. I was told that because I was never put on the schedule, my time was never alloted for. So they made me go on BEFORE the show started. I played to a crowd of 6 people from the other bands in a room that fits 200. My set ended around the time the show started and two minutes later a crowd filed in.

What was even more obnoxious was that the band that was supposed to go on after me because there wasn't enough time was made to wait a half an hour. So I could have gone on when the show had actually started after all.

Many audience members were disappointed that they'd missed me, and the promoters agreed that I should have gone on last when there was a full audience.

It was the worst show that I've done in a long, long time. I don't know why I was never included on the schedule, despite repeated attempts by the promoters, if it was an honest mistake or not. But if I made Danny's Fund any money, it was worth it. I did the show for Danny, not Maxwell's.

I hope that it's not because I used to wait tables at Maxwell's until I got hate mail for BlackHole and then I got fired two weeks later for supposedly receiving a record number of customer service complaints because of my "bad attitude," because that would be the stupidest and most petty thing I've ever encountered.

And then he wonders why open sores develop on his face...

These are pictures Rustin sent me from when he and his coworker had an eating contest at work. Rustin lost.

Ms. Killtown, Ms. Throwdown

For the Halloween BabyHole Extravaganza, we held the first ever Mr. and Ms. Killtown Competition. The Mr. Killtown competition was pretty tame. Ralph Santiago, the Camel guy won, which is not surprising because everyone loves him because he gives out free cigarettes.

I finally got pictures from the Ms. Killtown competition. This is Brooke Van Poppelen kicking Galina's ass...


...and winning the title of Ms. Killtown.



This is me dressed as Sylvia Browne with ReOdorant Joe. Does anyone have pictures of Montel? I don't.

IT'S NOT HERPES!!!!!!!!!!!

I tried to pop the zit on my lip twice but it hurt too much to do it properly and besides, it keeps coming back with a buddy. I thought it would be gone by today because I popped it last night but the tiny one next to it just got bigger. I'm trying not to pick at it, but it's so gross I want to cut my face off.

Then on Wednesday, my boyfriend got a weird bug bite by his mouth at the movie theater at Newport Mall. He scratched it too much, and it turned into an infected sore.

So at Thanksgiving dinner with my family, it looked like we had a herpes outbreak together.

Whatever. My family sucks anyway.

It's not herpes.

I got the biggest grossest painful pimple on my lip and it's inviting friends to party. It's growing bigger and bigger and by the weekend it will look like I have herpes.

I have three shows this week and it will look like I have herpes at all of them. At Thanksgiving too, and at work.

This Thanksgiving I will not be thankful for adult acne.

Quiet, genius at work!

I may be poor in money, but I'm rich in IQ. Last night my friends and I were talking about Mensa. If I put Mensa on my resume, would I get a job?

I'm not a member YET, but based on my opinion of myself, I could be. I've known people who were members and they were complete idiots and annoying to be around.

I've looked into possible membership. Unfortunately, being a genius isn't free. It costs $58 to take the test and have it evaluated, plus $52 a year to subscribe. In addition to a sense of superiority, I get a stupid magazine that I don't even want in return for membership fees.

Sounds like a scam for idiots.

Desperately poor yet again...

I worked last night and it was so dead in the bar that I watched an hour and a half of the democratic debate with the sound on because no one was there.

I made $35. That brings my weekly salary to $43 because I got paid $8 from BabyHole.

So I can't hang out this weekend. Instead, I'll be worrying about utilities and preparing myself to grieve for the loss of them.

I'll also be handing out resumes. Let me know if you want one.

Paying For Pussy

I need a black lady's fake vagina for a spread in my calendar but they are so expensive!

I went to the sex store looking for pocket pussies but I couldn't find anything for under $40.

Maybe I should get a used one off the internet.

The Maxwell's Show, Todd

I won a contest!

Well, I got 2nd runner up, so I won over the 3rd runner up, but I lost to the 1st runner up and winner.

I entered my poster "The Best Girls Kill Themselves in Jersey" to New Magazine's cover competition and got second runner up. In it I'm wearing ragged underwear in front of the embankment and staring defiantly.

I am quite shocked that I am even featured in a magazine for yuppies and their families.

It's free so you can pick up a copy and see me in it. There's a page with my entry on it. It says, "Melissa Surach. Comedian and blogger." (Who's not a blogger?)

Anyway, the poster itself is on sale. It's 24" by 36" mounted on Gator board. The photo was taken by Doug Ensel. You can contact me if you'd like to buy it.

When I was a beaver trapper...

One time I hosted the Waterbug as a French Canadian beaver trapper named Jean Luc who sang the Canadian National Anthem En Faux-Francais. The crowd could barely speak English, and I doubt that any of them knew where Canada was, but they seemed mildly amused.

Surprisingly, I did NOT get attacked on the Waterbug stage until several months later.

I recently found the pictures of my costume before I left the house. I walked to the bar dressed like that, and surprisingly, no one punched me or tried to steal my luxurious pelts. No sexual assault either.



I'm bad at shaving!



Smells like Quebecois!



All in all, it was a good night.

Melissa Surach 2008 Calendar

Eric Brown and I started shooting the 2008 Calendar yesterday.

The new calendar will be more sophisticated than last year's. It was very difficult to squeeze myself under that car and put my face against the exhaust pipe, but I think it was worth it.

Denied Foodstamps

Well I've almost officially been denied food stamps because the welfare office believes that I am lying about how poor I am.

I might have to get a statement signed from Toy Eater's saying that sometimes I make $10 in singles from BabyHole donations and from my boyfriend saying that sometimes he feeds me.

Also, I tried to get overdraft protection from my bank because I keep getting $40 fees for overdrawing my account by $0.40 and they tried to get me to apply for a credit card.

Leviathan.

The Winners of Killtown

Thanks to everyone who came out to the BabyHole Halloween Extravaganza. It was a great open mic, and the featured comedians were hilarious and made me miss BlackHole. I hope that someday I can bring it back to Jersey City. Maybe we should start writing to Senators or something on BlackHole's behalf.

The comedy hour featured Rosie Rebel as a crackhead wearing a garbage bag and carrying toilet paper, Hamilton Morris, Brooke Van Poppelen, and Eric Andre as the 160-year-old jazz musician, Jasper "Slide Tooth" Witherson.

I hosted as Sylvia Browne promoting my new book, Is Your Computer Psychic? Rustin Dwyer dressed up as Montel Williams and introduced me.

Thanks especially to Brooke and Galina who brought the Ms. Killtown Competition to a new level by adding physical violence.

Here are the winners of the Killtown Competiton:

Ms. Killtown: Brooke Van Poppelen
Mr. Killtown: Ralph Santiago

Thanks to Another Man's Treasure, Balance, Simple Cafe and Peter Surach for providing the prizes.

If anyone has pictures of the wrestling match, please email them to me at melissa.surach@gmail.com. I will post them as soon as possible.

If anyone has pictures of me at all, email them. I don't have any because a ghost broke my camera.

BABYHOLE HALLOWEEN EXTRAVAGANZA

BabyHole Halloween Extravaganza
It's more than a party. It's a dream come true.

Tuesday, October 30th

Hosted by world renown psychic, best selling author, and Montel Show regular, SYLVIA BROWNE.

Open Mic 9:00 (Sign up at 7:30. No poetry!)

Comedy 9:30 (Eric Andre, Brooke Van Poppelen, Aubrey Tennant, Rosie Rebel)

Ms. and Mr. Killtown Competition (costume, talent and drinking contest)
Judged by Sylvia Browne, Dancing Tony, and a Toy Eater.
Prizes provided by Another Man's Treasure, Balance, World of Style and more!


Why does red always look fucked up on uploaded fliers? Oh well.

Late Night Curiosities II

This Friday

FOR THOSE WHO DARE...

Back by popular demand, Art House Productions brings you a strange and
exciting evening filled with eccentrics, entertainers and obscure talents!

LATE NITE CURIOSITIES

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 26TH
10pm show repeated at 11:30pm

$5 admission
(FREE with "Maladjusted" show program and/or costume!)

STARRING
Richard Kirkwood
Lexie Levin
David Jacobsen
Duncan Pflaster
Beth Bentley
Joe Jacovino
Melissa Surach
Roland Ramos and the Art House Band
and more!

Art House Productions
Hamilton Square
1 McWilliams Place, Roof
(SE Corner of Hamilton Park, near Erie & 8th St.)

BABYHOLE HALLOWEEN PARTY!

The next BabyHole on October 30th is going to be craaazzzzyyyyy.

Sylvia Browne*, world renown psychic, author, and Montel Show regular, is emceeing. There is a possibility that Montel will also show up and advocate medicinal marijuana.



Also, the first EVER MS. AND MR. KILLTOWN COMPETITION will take place! It's more than a costume contest. It's also a drinking and talent contest!





















*Actually, it will be me dressed like Sylvia Browne and doing a poor impression of her and I told my boyfriend that if he didn't go as Montel I would break up with him.

Fruit Flies: The Gayest Flies Of All

If you have slept over my house the past week or so, you may have woken up with flies on your face, like an Ethiopian. If I were an Ethiopian, I would eat these flies. And if I were a fly, I'd eat an Ethiopian. But I would never eat a potato.

There are several possible sources of flies in my apartment: The drain that won't unclog, the dishes I refuse to wash, the food Dirty hides, the garbage I neglect to take out, etc. But none of them, not even considered altogether, could explain the abundance of flies.

I had pretty much just taken it as some sort of paranormal infestation until today when I found a bag of rotting potatoes in a cabinet. It was host to 1,000's of flies, and all sorts of disgusting smells, and basically, a normal infestation.

I think the smell of rotting potatoes is probably the closest to rotting flesh. But you could try to prove me wrong.

When I touched the bag to throw it away, it was wet.

This is the second time this has happened to me in as many years. The first time, I thought there was a dead mouse in the wall. I should probably stop trying to prove to myself that I like potatoes because I obviously don't. But they're so cheap!

Oh, what a sad bar scene!

Thanks to someone for mentioning me in the JC List Bar Fight, What Happened To Lucky 7's? Thread.

Yes, Cisco and I will provide you with a delightful time when you are there. But most of the time you are not. Last night, we had a total of 6 customers all night long. And I had to chain one to his stool to get him to stay!

I think the reason the bar scene sucks is the people who own and frequent the bars. If only there were 100's of me's.

Also, this is Jersey. Beer should be cheap. What's up with establishments charging $5 and upwards for a pint so you can sit in their empty bar and listen to their bad music? I blame THAT on the people with money moving into the neighborhood. You think you're so great with your jobs. Look at what your dirty money's done.

BUY ME DRINKS.

Posterity Magnet For Purchase

Order my posterity magnet online or get it from me for free when you go to one of my shows.

It's only $1 plus shipping!

Update on my dad

So I've been busy working, laying around, and stuff. My dad's been a lot nicer to me since last week when he almost died. He moves a lot slower now!

4th Street Music And Art Festival Flier

Dr. Melissa

What should I prescribe myself?

I found my mom's prescription pad on the counter. She's a nurse practitioner. She must really trust me. Or more likely, she knows I have no money.

Since I haven't had health insurance in 4 years, I don't remember how to do prescriptions. But I'm thinking about prescribing something like physical therapy or that pink penicillin medicine. Or a liver transplant.

This week I'm house sitting at my parent's and the dog, La La, is very annoying and ill trained. She likes to stab me in the stomach with her pointy feet.

This is a picture from when I tried to put her in the drier. I think she liked it.
There's a date on is because my parents thinks it's cool to put incorrect dates on pictures.

I think I'm finally happily employed

I think that all that poverty and sitting around all sumer long was worth it. I held out for a few months, but I finally got jobs.

They are:

1. Bartender - only beer and shots, plus I'm allowed to drink on the job.
2. Video Content Manager - I watch YouTube and get PAID for it.

Tomorrow I have a job interview to be an associate editor for a new magazine for hedonists. I think I'll be getting paid to drink and get laid.

Psychedelic Comedy Hour

This is the flier for a show I'm on Friday. At first I thought it was a guy's butt because it almost looks like there's a scrotum, but I think it's just a disgusting chest.

You don't even want to know what I pulled out of my dog's butt!

I think I've gotten to the bottom of Dirty's poo problems. I'm pretty sure that he ate a cord of rope, like the kind you hang laundry on. I think it was from before I found him because I don't ever do laundry.

For awhile I thought he had worms but it was just strings.

Sometimes I have night terrors in the daytime

I HAVE OFFICIALLY GROUNDED MYSELF FROM WATCHING GHOST HUNTERS.

Things have gone out of control and I'm grounded this month.

Last Wednesday, I watched a 4-hour-long marathon of Ghost Hunters by myself and it was so scary that I had to spend the night with the lights and TV on, on my parent's sofa, forcing my dog, Dirt Pie, to protect me from ghosts. And if you know anything about Dirty Pie, you know that he's a big pussy and not very well trained.

When not binge drinking to forget my horror, I've slept with the lights on all week long. And last night I had a nightmare that I was room mates with a baby ghost and had to take care of her. And she wouldn't sleep in her bed because that's where she died! AHHHH!

Then I woke up in a cold sweat and waited until the sun came up to go to sleep. Luckily, I don't have a real job to wake up for.

The Best Girls Kill Themselves In Jersey

I have a big poster of me called "The Best Girls Kill Themselves In Jersey" up in the Mary Benson Art Gallery right now for the September Selects Show. I was credited as a CONCEPTUAL ARTIST/COMEDIAN/JERSEY GIRL.

The picture was taken by Doug, who took a break from shooting Dead Man's Tunnel to shoot MY Dead Man's Tunnel.

It's 24" x 36" digital color print mounted on gator board. YOu may purchase it, but it's a little pricey. I'll also print smaller ones that are cheaper that you can order.

Sometimes I impulsively buy pets.

SHOULD I BUY A FRESHWATER FLOUNDER?

I'd have to take all the substrate out of my tank and put sand down, possibly get a new tank, add salt, and move furniture, but they are so cute and I think it's worth it!

Get some fucking garbage cans, Jersey City!

Dear Jersey City,
Today I had to walk three blocks with dog poo in my hand because there were no garbage cans. Well there was one but it was full. It was so full it looked like another garbage can was on top of it. I don't know why the neighbors on that block throw out their private garbage in the public garbage can when they should on garbage night, but there was no room for dog poo and I had to keep walking. And I think that if the city only puts one garbage can out, they should empty it regularly to accommodate Jersey trash.

Sometimes Dirty poos too much and I run out of bags. Luckily, there was a typo-riddled Hudson Reporter nearby and I successfully used it to scoop up his poo after 20 minutes of trying. He's been eating hair and his poo looks like sausage links.

GIVE ME GARBAGE CANS NOW.

Thank you,
Melissa Surach

PICTURES FROM JC TO NC

Stephanie and I started our week in historic New Bern by stalking docents and judging their sub par historical reenactments.

I give New Bern docents a "D". In one old house, a woman was supposed to churn butter and give us a tour, but instead, she was sitting down, smoking a cigarette and kept insisting that we were twins and telling us about current 2007 events rather than pretending that it was 300 years ago like Stephanie and I had driven 500 miles to see.

Therefore, Stephanie and I had to steal period clothing and pretend to be old ourselves. When the woman wasn't looking and not giving the tour like she was supposed to, we went upstairs and tried on the clothing on display and played with artifacts.

This is Stephanie being a ghost:


This is me being a ghost:


The next night, we went looking for real ghosts on the Beaufort Ghost Walk. Despite the guide's insistence that we would see ghosts and be SCRATCHED by them, we didn't see any dead people there but there were tons of kids and babies, which I hate.

This is BlackBeard's house. Supposedly, it's haunted by one of his 13-year-old wives and her little friend. There's almost two orbs, but not really.


The next day, we went to Fort Macon. Fort Macon is the lamest and most boring fort I've ever been to. They only had two battles there, and one of them was gunless. What the fuck? The Union won the gunless one.

This is a picture of me in the upper rightish corner sizing up a cannon right before I tried to climb it and it scraped half of my third nipple off.

I am not a very good climber. The last time I climbed a gate to get into a locked playground, I ripped my pants open and everyone saw my butt. Then this time, half of my third nipple fell off. I was only two feet off the ground when I'd sustained the injury.

Blood was everywhere around my armpits. Stephanie didn't have anything to help me and she wouldn't look at it. The only thing I had to stop it was a maxi pad, and it was a night-time one, one of those super-long ones. I had to strap it around myself and walk out like that with a long maxi pad over my boobs while red necks, old people, and boring people judged me. I think it was the fort getting back at me for calling it boring and lame.

This is me forcing Stephanie to take a picture of it. Notice the armpit stubble and the crazed look in my eyes. That's how you can tell that I'm happy.


This is a close-up of it.


It's hard to see, but half of it was hanging off and scabby. After we went to the beach, it looked like a tiny hermit crab. Now it's almost gone. The fort did me a favor because I couldn't afford to get it removed. Now I call Fort Macon "Dr. Macon" and maybe I'll go back when I have to get my third penis removed. It also looks like a tiny hermit crab.

We spend a lot of time on our vacation in the cemetery. This is the Old Burying Ground in Beaufort. There's only room for one grave left but it's taken.


This is a picture of the grave of the little girl who was buried in a barrel of rum. Apparently, she haunts the cemetery. If I were her, I'd just be drinking!

Postcards for September Selects and BabyHole

BABYHOLE

front:

back:


SEPTEMBER SELECTS

front:


back:

Cumming Home

My week in North Carolina was so awful it made me appreciate Jersey City. I will put up pictures as soon as this computer stops being an asshole.

HIGHLIGHTS OF MY VACATION:

Counting rednecks and pickup trucks on the road.
Black Beard.
Awkward tan lines.
The Old Burying Ground.
I touched a stingray with my finger.
Half of my third nipple fell off when I tried to climb a cannon. Now it looks like a tiny hermit crab.
Cigarettes cost like $1.

I really missed Dirt Pie the Empathy Dog while I was gone until I came home and he took three dumps in my kitchen and they were gray in color. Now he's on another hunger strike until I start cooking for him again.

Butterscotch was resentful towards me for leaving and the first night back home, he gnawed on walls and furniture all night long because he likes negative attention and he wouldn't let me pet him.

Anyway, now that I'm back, I hate everything slightly less.

I'm starting to become concerned and disgusted about the third nipple that I started growing a few months ago.

If you've seen my boobs lately, you'd know that I started to mysteriously grow a third nipple by my armpit.

At first I thought it was just a skin tag. I grew one on my neck that eventually dried up and fell off last year. But the one by my boob is NOT FALLING OFF. In fact, it's getting bigger, and I think it plans on staying for awhile.

Every day that goes by it becomes more nipplish. Now, the skin around it is becoming discolored and more aureole-like. It's even got itself a freckle.

I don't want an extra nipple. I might enjoy an extra hand, eye, tail, brain, or vagina, but this tiny armpit nipple is going to give me body-image issues, alienate me from humanity even further, and force me to purchase custom-made bras. I only have one bra and I wear it to job interviews.

It might not be a new nipple. I don't really know what it is. But I can't afford to go to the doctor and find out.

So it doesn't matter anyway.

And another thing: Whatever it is, I don't think I should let it be in the sun. Guess who's gonna be the lame-ass on the beach wearing a T-shirt this week right after she lost 20 pounds? ME.

What is Death?

Sometimes living in Jersey City makes me question "What is death? Is it my neighborhood?" I will find out soon.

This week I'll be lucky enough to get out of Jersey City. And not a moment too soon! I had night terrors the other night that I was dying, which I think is a metaphor for my dreams in general.

I got fed up with the smallness of this neigborhood and/or my existence, and on Wednesday I decided to move to Vancouver. Unfortunately, I can barely afford PATH fare to New York once a week, so a flight to Vancouver is unfeasible at this time.

And I don't want to give up Dirt Pie the Empathy Dog, or Butterscotch the Wall Paper Gnawer. They wouldn't be allowed at the Youth Hostel I'd have to live in.

This week I'm going to North Carolina with my sister. Only Stephanie and I are going, because we have no friends. Since the town is a few miles away from the place we're staying at, we have to drive there, which means that either Stephanie and I have to go everywhere together, or one of us will be stranded.

Even though I'll have to talk to her the whole time, I'm just happy to get away.

An Open Letter To Steve Fulop

I don't have any disdain for Steve Fulop. I said I wanted to see him naked. That's a compliment. And most women and some men in this town want it way more than I do. I can think of a few middle-aged poets, and so can you.

I just have a lot of mixed feelings for Jersey City. Most people do about their hometowns.

Basically, I just want Jersey City to stop sucking so much. Is that too much to ask?

HERE IS MY LETTER TO COUNCILMAN FULOP AND OTHERS WHO MAY DO MY BIDDING:

Dear Steve Fulop,

In the council meeting the other week and in the fabulous local papers with amazing journalistic integrity, there is an ongoing dialog about how to improve the quality of life in Jersey City. Some people, like Christine Goodman, say that it's the arts, by making arts in Jersey City more accessible, and heightening the over-all fineness of Jersey City arts, while boring fuddy-duddys who don't have any lives say it's "noise control".

But here is my proposition: Being from Jersey City, I've grown up with many losers who continue to come into my life and bring me many annoying conversations. Many of them still live with their parents and talk to me about grammar or high school, though they are pushing 30. Since these people are trapped in the past and act like babies, they are obviously not contributing anything to the City.

Is there anyway we can just bring in a bulldozer and push all the losers out? Can we just make them live in the shanty town by the train tracks so they stop impeding the progress of people who are trying to make progress?

And another thing: I am very annoyed with people in their 30's who act like we live in Jersey City High. Can we just make them overdose on cocaine?

Thank you,
Melissa Surach

PS Can you also do something about my homeless uncle? He really creeps me out. He's a millionaire, you know, but you'd never know that by smelling him!

Be The Fire, Not The Moth

I kind of stopped doing comedy stuff for a few weeks because I started hating fun.

Instead, I focused on drinking malt liquor, working on low-paying, shitty, freelance writing jobs, and thinking about life.

I got really disillusioned about stand up especially. It's always been the saddest form of comedy to me. It's not my favorite to do or watch. I like writing jokes, but I don't like repeating them over and over to a room full of people I hate.

Also, I wasn't writing anything but dick jokes last month because nothing else was funny to me. I had dick on the brain, which was a childish reaction to a broken heart lurking in my subconscious. Now that I realize that, when some dick joke makes me laugh, I'll just burn myself with a cigarette.

Anyway, I'll be producing a bunch of new shows in September. And I'm starting a bunch of projects and I'll have new sketch videos by October.

Things go slowly when you have no money.

Don't expect me to remember anything for awhile

I can't write in my notebook anymore because it's covered in alcohol and Chris's blood. And all of my jokes from the past few months are bloody and look like evidence.

Well, the notebook was soaked in beer before because I have a bad habit of carrying open containers of alcohol in my purse when "Last Call" is called.

Anyway, Sunday night, Chris was walking me home from the bar. I was pretty drunk. (On a side note, I now know why malt liquor is not served on draft.)

On the way, we passed this guy he kind of knows, and when he said hi to him, the guy punched him in the face with a six back of promotional Budweiser bottles.

I was confused because I was drunk and it happened very slowly and kind of casually. But then Chris's cheek was bleeding, and the only thing I had on me was my notebook to put pressure on it. So we walked back to his house with four dirty hands applying pressure to his face with my dick jokes.

Then Chris called the cops and had to go to the Emergency Room for stitches. We didn't get back to Chris's until like 5:30 am and I slept on the couch. It was a long night and I didn't even get laid.

But now Chris has a really gross-looking cheek. He says it looks tough. I haven't seen him since, but it probably just looks disgusting.

The Shittiest Childhood Awards...

...go to these girls, the youngest mothers in recorded history.

Notice that, besides the fact that most of them were molested by family members for prolonged amounts of time, most of them were also very poor, AND they got their periods when they were babies. NOW THAT'S A SHITTY CHILDHOOD.

I first found out about Lina Medina, who gave birth to a boy at the age of five, from my job, in their mother's day trivia section. The boy was raised as her brother. The boy probably WAS her brother.

I was shocked that such an obvious case of rape would be celebrated in a Mother's Day Trivia piece.

Henceforth, I will not complain about my relationship problems anymore.

When I was a little boy back in Poland...

I found my old NYU ID card.

When I was 24, I looked like a little Polish boy.



I wish they hadn't cut up my other ID. When I was 23, I looked like Axl Rose.

I'm on vacation this month and forever.

I am taking next BlackHole off because I'm going on vacation. You may be thinking to yourself, "Melissa, aren't you unemployed now, so isn't your life like a vacation?" and "Melissa, since you are unemployed, how can you afford a vacation?"

Well yes and yes!

My life isn't like a vacation. I'm on a vacation from life. And I hope it stays that way. That's why I'm not taking out my septum piercing and I have a tattoo on my hand.

And no, I can't afford a vacation. I currently have $14 in my bank account, and I don't know when my next paycheck is coming in. I think the company I'm currently freelancing for is ignoring me and my invoices!

But who isn't?

Anyway, it's along story how I'm going on vacation, but it's with my family. And it's to North Carolina. I doubt I will have a good time. It's New Bern. This is it.

SO WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THAT?

I tried looking for comedy clubs around there. I think there's only old people.

I plan on entertaining myself by visiting the historical sites and taking pictures of ghosts of slaves.

I can write poetry too! CAN I MARRY YOUR BABY?

What I don't understand about poets, in general, is if they're such good writers, why can't they spell their own stage names? You know who you are.

The problem with poetry in Jersey City is there's all these people who think they know how to write poetry even though they failed high school English class.

Anyway, here's the third installment of the I Hate Your Baby Series. IT'S A POEM.

CAN I MARRY YOUR BABY?

I've looked high and lo, but only lonelier become.
I have no baby-daddy. Can I marry your son?
I know not since when, I thought it was a beer gut.
'Till the belly button popped out and now I'm stuck
with no protector or bread winner.
Can your baby save this sinner?

When he's three we'll wed.
We'll live in my parent's shed.
His crib will be our nuptial bed.
And we'll be together until we're dead.

You can't fight City Hall, but you can ask them really annoying questions

Tonight, all of us Jersey City Art Heros went down to City Hall to meet with Councilman Steve Fulop about the Entertainment License and Noise Ordinance. Christine Goodman arranged the meeting.

Basically, the gist of the meeting was that the Entertainment License on file is from the 1930's. We're supposed to email Fulop all of our concerns about the antiquated license, and the council will be changing it and the Noise Ordinance in the upcoming months according to our feedback. Whether or not it will change anything, only Sylvia Browne knows for sure.

I'm not the expert on this stuff, but I think Fulop is quick to generalize groups of people. When I asked him what defined a "nightclub," he brought up Uncle Joe's, I guess because of my nose ring. Uncle Joe's was demolished like 3 years ago.

But whatever. All that stuff is BORING. Here's the highlights of the meeting:

There was a strange sound of a bird being tortured that went off periodically. Apparently, it was to keep pigeons away.

And my favorite moment was when Fulop said that he was going to be sure to take all the notes because he didn't want all the ideas from the meeting to be sucked into a BLACKHOLE!

At the end I really wanted to ask him, "In practice, would this ordinance be enforced as thoroughly as the youth curfew is?" but he wouldn't call on me. I think he could tell by my smirk that I was trying to be annoying.

The stupidest question award goes to a middle-aged poet who is mean to me all the time and never tipped me when I was her bartender. Repeatedly (and without humor), she asked Fulop to just drop the whole thing until the new ordinance is drafted.

Not surprisingly, Fulop scoffed at her. He said that it's the law and you can't just cancel it.

The Reporter briefly interviewed me and asked me what I think they should do with the ordinance. I said to rip it up. Then I said that Council Chambers smelled like Urban Decay.

I wanted to invite Steve Fulop to BlackHole, but he ran out as fast as he could. I think he was trying to get away from the hippie smell. There were some hippies there. You know who you are.

Where is my life going?

Don't you hate it when the only reason you have to wake up in the morning is because you think it's Sylvia Browne Day on Montel Williams, and then you put the TV on you realize that it's just Tuesday?

FILTH IS MY POLITICS!

I've been running my mouth off for the past month about this stupid Jersey City Entertainment License and this week is no different. On Wednesday, we will address the obscenity and social norms section of the ordinance.

This Wednesday will be the filthiest BlackHole I've ever done.

Melissa Surach's BlackHole

Rosie Rebel
Ben Lerman
Mike Burns
Liam McEneaney
Eric Andre

Hosted by me, Melissa Surach

Wednesday, July 25th, 8 pm
fifty8 Gallery
58 Coles, Jersey City
BYO OK. Free show, free refreshments, please donate us some money!

Please note that the time slot has changed. The show STARTS at 8.

Take the PATH to Grove Street. Walk four blocks west on Newark Avenue until you get to Coles Street. Make a right. It's between Third and Fourth Streets.

Have I been censored by JC List?

Last week I submitted my new reading series, "Sweet Face, Sour Puss," to its calendar, and they've yet to put it on!

Is it because of the phrase "Sour Puss?"

THAT'S PURE SEXISM.

Cuntalina, you little gremlin! Maybe you CAN be a star!

Some of you may know the girl I call Cuntalina. She has eyes like Scott Peterson, she looks like a gremlin, and she has a tiny eyebrow ridge like a caveman. Judy says she looks like she was born a preemie. She is also legally a dwarf, I think. She has no discernible talent except for going crazy for no reason. I believe she lives with her parents because, although she is 27, she is too crazy/stupid to hold a real job.

Anyway, if any of you have seen Hell's Kitchen, the girl Melissa, who got thrown off last week, was the red-headed version of her.



They have the same nasal voice and temperament and no one really likes either of them.

Also, Chef Ramsey called Melissa a gremlin repeatedly on the show, just like I do to Cuntalina in real life!

I wonder what happenned to Cuntie.

I'm not usually a catty girl. It's just that once, crazy Cuntie thought I was after her boyfriend. I used to host a show, and she told everyone that I was a boyfriend stealer, and she manipulated this teenager into thinking I was after her baby daddy and the teenager attacked me on stage and tried to rip out my nose ring.

I enjoy calling Cuntalina different variations of cunt or vagina. My favorite so far is Vagisil Medicated Wipes. Feel free to use it!

I am a human being, too

Over this weekend, three different men told me that they didn't know that anything wierded me, freaked me, or creeped me out. One even told me that he was glad to hear that I was put off by something because I guess he thought I was some kind of monster. I'm glad that I could enlighten retards to my subtle dimension of humanity.

My creative output into this world is different from my personal ideology. My writing and performance is what I make, not who I am. As a writer, I try to be fearless. As a person, I live in constant fear of many things.

These include:

1. A ghost waking me up at night and staring at me, even if it is Grandpa.
2. Criticism.
3. Bears.
4. Fish that need to be cleaned. They're gross.
5. Commitment.
6. Sobriety.
7. Cancers.
8. Scorpions.
9. Dying alone in poverty and being buried in a mass pauper's grave.
10. Race wars.
11. Rabies.
12. Squeezing a baby out of my tiny vag.
13. Herpes and other incurable STDs.
14. Sunburn.
15. Bad haircuts.
16. Child proof locks.
17. A ghost waking me up to give me advice, Grandpa.

And, most of all,

FAILURE.

Melissa Surach Pornographic Pictures

I've googled myself again today, and one of the results was for a pornographic website with pictures of Sweet Melissa aka Melissa Surach.

I did not check it out, because when I lived at home there was a problem with pornographic pop ups on the house computer and my dad blamed me, accused me of being a porn addict and pervert and a lesbian and that episode has emotionally scarred me and affects all of my relationships with men.

So I don't look at internet pornography. Sometimes I cut out pictures from gay porno magazines and make art for my apartment, but that's it.

However, I am really curious to see these pictures. I take enough exploitative pictures of myself, what could they be of?

And another thing: I am broke right now. If they are making money with my name, I will cry. Because I'm not.

New Noise Ordinance: Meat Heads VS. Art Fags

So, last week they cops were cracking down on entertainment licenses and almost shut my BlackHole show down.

And we know how many other events had to be cancelled because of the "entertainment license" scam.

Next week, Steve Fulop's new noise ordinance will take effect, and any establishment with audible music outside the perimeter after 11 on a weekday or midnight on a weekend will be in violation.

This includes bars with music, parties with music, live music, and sometimes, loud, angry comedians.

I just wonder if they'll enforce it as well as they do the youth curfew. Can't they spend their time patrolling the streets so that teenagers stop trying to mug me and sexually harassing me?

Since the schools suck, and there's nothing for them to do, these arts organizations are going to be the only things to keep the kids from stealing your cars and mugging yuppies.

Last year, I hosted a show at the Lex Leonard Gallery opening, and Steve Fulop was there, and I said I wanted to see him take off his clothes. And people complained about my comment, and said that it was offensive because he is a dignitary. Jersey City is so barbaric and backwards. It's free speech, retards. It's culture.

STEVE FULOP, I WANT TO SEE YOUR BALLS!

I think what's happening is the cops are freaking out about the crime, because so many rich people are moving in and poor people are being marginalized, and they don't know what to do, but they need to blame someone. So they're blaming "hippies," because they think it's 50 years ago.

I say blame the lazy police who aren't patrolling the street when they should be, and the class/race war that is developing in this shoddily planned, hyper-gentrification scheme.

Jersey City cops are just over grown meatheads picking on the scrawny art kids so they look tough.

Ghetto Trash

Why are girls from Jersey City such chickenheads?

You know what I'm talking about.

WHO GAVE DIRTY FLEAS?

It was me.

Dirty has been scratching himself all day. Now I know why I have all those blood blisters everywhere.

This is what lives on me:



I blame the dog run. And I'm really confused about number four in the flea's life cycle.

Reading Series At Balance

I'm starting a reading series at Balance to showcase my humorous essays and poetry.

Mostly, they are filthy pieces with titles like, "Can I Marry Your Baby?" or "At Least It's Not Cervical Cancer," or "M is for Melissa, A is for Abortion."

The first one will take place on July 28th from 3-5 at Balance Salon World Of Style, 18 Eerie Street, in Jersey City, of course. I will also have a guest reader, in case you hate me.

The only problem I'm having is deciding on a name for it. So far, this is what I've come up with:

Newark Avenue Bard
Bleeding Grounds
Wonder Awe
HomoNecrotic
Queen Leer
Sweet Face, Sour Puss
Serial Macist

I think that "Sweet Face, Sour Puss," is the funniest, plus it sounds like candy, but it also sounds really vaggie, like BlackHole, and too many people already think I'm a lesbian.

Poverty Diet: Lose Weight Cheaply

As many of you may know, a few months ago I quit my job at Sweet Priscilla's, where I was assistant manager and chef.

As many of you have seen, there's a lot of fat around that cafe. The basic recipe for everything was a pound of butter, a dozen eggs, a half pound of sugar, and some flour, and IT SHOWS.

In the year that I worked there, I gained 20 pounds.

In the two and a half months that I've been unemployed, I've lost it all because I am currently living below the poverty level and all I can afford to eat are onions.

But I can finally fit into pants my size again and go topless around the neighborhood.

But with all these changes, my right boob is looking wierd. It better get itself back into shape because I might have to, reluctantly, become a stripper.

I hate dancing and men with eyes!

$0.25

Currently, my paying-job is editing jokes for www.joke-of-the-day.com.

I DO NOT WRITE THE JOKES. I DO NOT WRITE THE JOKES. I DO NOT WRITE THE JOKES.

I edit them according to the style guide.

However, I DO write the captions for the images. I am only mildly embarassed by these, and you can look at them if you want.

My user name is The Idiot.

Oh, and this is the funniest joke I've edited all week:

18 Inches
Q: What's 18 inches and makes a woman scream all night long?
A: Crib Death.

Yankee Doodle Dandy

Happy Fourth Of July, FAGS.

Kill My "Friends"

Last night, I went to the Corkscrew for Billy's Open Mic.

Basically, the open mic at the Corkscrew is a bunch of hot dudes sitting around drinking and whenever you want to go up, you can, and I was the only girl there. The best part about it is that there's no poetry, and I was the only girl there. And the alcohol is cheap.

At first, I was concerned that the guys there would start calling me a man hater and stone me, as is my experience in the Heights (Abe). As you know from a previous post, the Heights are not very progressive, and they are 1995 at best.

Since my job hasn't paid me in three weeks, I had only $10 on me, so I couldn't afford a cab home, and my stupid "friends" never showed up, so I was stranded in the Heights. Luckily, Billy lives downtown and was kind enough to let me get in his cab. Thanks, Billy.

Being stranded, I was tempted to call Abe, as I have done in the past at the Corkscrew, because it's by his house, but I am still overwhelmed by hatred, and if I were to talk to him, it would probably just be hysterical shrieking.

From now on, all of my friends are going to be dildos. They'll always give me a ride downtown.

Comedy So Far

Since I started doing comedy on stage about a year and a half ago, these things have happened to me:

-I've received hatemail, both emailed and handwritten.

-I was fired from my job because of the hate mail delivered there.

-I was attacked on stage by this ghetto chick who tried to rip out my nose ring.

-The police have closed my show, BlackHole, down early due to noise complaints at 11:00 pm.

-The police tried to shut the show down indefinitely and ticket me for not having an entertainment license (it would have been $1000).

-Because of my calendar, every pervert in the neighborhood thinks he can talk to me on the street about my personality.

-I can't find a day job to fit my schedule so right now I'm a freelance joke editor for Humor Lab and I make $10 a day, so I can't afford train fare to go out.

-I think Verizon shut my phone off today, which doesn't irk me too much, because I think that the police were bugging it anyway.

-I drink almost as much as I did when I was 16.

Comedy has given me the gift of poverty and local notoriety.

But still, after all of this, I had not learned much about comedy or life until last Wednesday, at BlackHole, where I finally learned that I am a much better performer when I don't wear pants.

Sometimes I think I'm a Doctor

I've been drinking soy milk instead of cow's milk for several months now. I switched because it's healthier, it lasts longer so I don't drink curdled milk as much by accident, and I thought the estrogen would help me curb excess hair. I have a strong hair gene and sometimes the hairs make people uncomfortable.

I've lost 13 pounds, I'm starting to get hips, and my right boob got bigger. Hopefully the left one will catch up before I look ridiculous. I almost look like a teenager. I certainly dress like one! This look is affected by my clothes, which are mostly from highschool.

I've also taken to adding St. John's Wart to iced tea to curb my suicidal tendencies. It's been working pretty well. Commercials don't upset me and I don't get broken hearts from, say, Ghost Whisperer or Animal Cops, anymore.

Used consistemtly, it stabilizes my mood, and I haven't curled into a ball for two weeks, except for Friday, when three awful things happenned and my life fell into shambles. But I'm okay now. You can stop worrying about me, but I'd still like you to buy me drinks and I'd still enjoy your pity.

A Fucking Korn Song?

This is a joke I just edited:

Q: What does ADIDAS stand for?
A: All Day I Dream About Sex.

Now, I know it's just a job, and that it's not my responsibility to judge whether they are funny or not, but a Korn song from 1994 that only posers liked? Are you kidding me?

Sometimes my job makes me want to kill the 90's, but they're already dead.

And another thing: Thursday-Friday were the worst 24 hours of my life, romantically, financially, and professionally, in that order. They can be summed up as: Abe Being Shit Head Again And Shouting At Me In The Street Like We're In A Trailer Park, No Money For Three Weeks, and Cops, Cops, Cops!

I think that Korn should write a song about me, but it would probably suck and only posers would like it.

WHAT IS UP WITH THE HAIR?

My Last Myspace Survey

In general, I feel that surveys should be of one's property and not one's personality. But sometimes they are a distraction from thoughts of suicide.

I posted this survey for Judy:

Hey Judy! What's so great about giving up on life? $450.50

The value of giving up on life: invaluable.

I am at home on a Friday night because I have given up on life. This survey seemed to me that it would entertain Judy if I filled it out. If you read the directions, you'll notice that I didn't follow them. I made a better version, and it's also therapy for self-hatred.

Old, Stupid, Bad Directions:
This is fun to do. Just read the "offense" and if you've done it, you owe that fine. Keep going until you've read each "offense" and added up your total fine. Title your bulletin "My Bar Tab is $........" You don't have to confess your answers, just the amount of your fine.

Melissa's Directions:
Give reasons for why you do things. Everyone cares about my motivations.

Smoked pot -- $10
Self-medication for depression, but since I've been unemployed and broke, I just get poorer and sadder and have less and less pot.

Did acid -- $5
Sometimes I wish I could spray acid on your ugly face and kill you.

Ever had sex at church -- $25
I was raised Episcopalian, so obviously, yes. I WANNA FUCK JESUS ALL THE TIME ESPECIALLY WHEN HE'S DEAD BUT HIS SPIRIT LIVES ON.

Woke up in the morning and did not know the person who was next to you-- $40
I don't even know myself, much less that Dirty Dog!

Had sex with someone on MySpace -- $25
Like message sex? Who cares.

Had sex for money -- $100
I've been paid to stop.

Ever had sex with the a Puerto Rican -- $20
Puerto Ricans are rapists. Right Judy?

Vandalized something -- $20
MY VAGINA.

Had sex on your parents' bed -- $10
No one has sex on my parents's bed.

Beat up someone -- $20
Do babies count?

Been jumped -- $10
By two sexy teenagers!

Crossed dressed -- $10
Sometimes, my male acquaintances tell me that it makes them uncomfortable when I draw a beard on my face and take pictures of myself in masculine positions and show them to them in bars.

Given money to stripper -- $25
To get an education, whore!

Been in love with a stripper -- $20
I usually just pity them and spray them with Febreeze.

Kissed some one who's name you didn't know --$10
Name one. I can't.

Hit on some one of the same sex while at work-- $15
No, everyone at my job is a fucking DYKE! And I work from home.

Ever drive drunk -- $20
I don't drive. I have an intern to do that, and she borrows my mother's car.

Ever got drunk at work, or went to work while still drunk -- $50
If I'm not drunk, it's not working.

Used toys while having sex -- $30
Boys ARE toys.

Got drunk, passed out and don't remember the night before -- $20
It's the only way I can sleep at night. I'm afraid of the past!

Went skinny dipping -- $5
Hey everyone, who wants to see my vaj mahal tomorrow?

Had sex in a pool -- $20
Once I almost did it with this really gross guy in Florida when I was really desperate. Back then, I had also given up on life, and when I saw that Miama trash boner, I thought, "Maybe this will raise my self-esteem by 2 points." But it didn't.

Kissed someone of the same sex -- $10
Only relatives.

Had sex with someone of the same sex -- $20
What sex is a pillow? How about a stump?

Cheated on your significant other -- $10
IT AIN'T CHEATIN' IF YOU AIN'T SIGNIT.

Masturbated -- $10
I masturbate to the idea of, one day, losing my virginity. My food allergy virginity.

Cheated on your significant other with their relative or close friend -- $20
Only with relatives.

Done oral -- $5
Do babies count?

Got oral -- $5
Usually, only if the guy has a small penis that he's ashamed of and is hiding it for as long as possible.

Done / got oral in a car while it was moving-- $25
I've never even known a guy who owned a car.

Stole something -- $10
Why is your boyfriend such a pussy all the time?

Had sex with someone in jail -- $25
Only if he was on Death Row. I hate "callers."

Made a nasty home video -- $15
Every video I've made looks like shit.

Had a threesome -- $50
Yes! Self-Hatred, Self-Pity, and Self-Hatred.

Had sex in the wild -- $20
Like a bed? That's crazy! I usually do it on broken bottles and AIDS.

Been in the same room while someone was having sex -- $25
Judy!

Stole something worth over more than a hundred dollars -- $20
Like a baby?

Had sex with someone 10 years older -- $20
Unfortunately, yes. Eeew.

Had sex with someone under 21 and you are over 27 -- $25
I may be 26 right now, but I know what time the schools gets out!

Been in love with two people or more at the same time -- $50
I want to kill everyone all the time.

Said you love someone but didn't mean it -- $25
No, but I use the "H" word a lot.

Went streaking -- $5
Almost. I've been showing my boobs more and more in hilarious situations. If I go to the Mermaid Parade tomorrow, they're gonna be blue.

Went streaking in broad daylight -- $15
If I go to the Mermaid Parade, I'm gonna wear my vagina on the outside!

Been arrested -- $5
No, there was too much shooting.

Spent time in jail -- $15
OF MY MIND!

Peed in the pool -- $0.50
Yes. That's why it turned green.

Played spin the bottle -- $5
When I was a baby.

Done something you regret -- $20
I regret everything.

Had sex with your best friend >-- $20
Judy?

Had sex with someone you work with at work --$25
Eew. No. I work from home.

Had anal sex -- $80
Everything I do is the opposite of anal.

Lied to your mate -- $5
Yeah, when I said, "It's over!"

Lied to your mate about the sex being good -- $25
They know when they fail.

Tally it up and Title it, "My Bar Tab Is $...."

Melissa says, "Just put a number somewhere."

Abe Is Such A Fetus

And not only a fetus, but one of those retarded ones that should be destroyed. He's also gay.

Abe blew up at me last night in the street. I think what set him off was that I said something about him being dressed like a film industry loser. And he was.

He was wearing an oversized button down shirt with horses on it, unbuttoned over a T shirt, kind of like how people did 10 years ago. His pants were tight under the billowing shirt. And he was wearing big sunglasses on his head at 1:00 am in a bar.

I didn't even want to talk to him, but he kept on trying, and I was very drunk and he asked me to take a walk with him and smoke a blunt. So we started walking, and soon he was shouting awful things at me in the street and never even lit me up. Why are the Heights so white trash?

I can't believe I blew off this other guy to go for a walk with him. I'm such a stupid, awful person.

Blood Blisters, My New Pets

Blood blisters aren't a street gang! They're a feet gang, and they look like this:


That's not my foot, but it could be yours.

I spent most of today tending to my blisters. I had a blood blister on my toe, and a larger, quarter-sized half-clear blister on my ankle, another one on my tattoo, and some smaller ones on the tops of my feet.

If blisters were currency, I bet right now I'd be able to buy some.

The reason I have so many blisters is that I buy my shoes from CH Martin or Fabco. Also, a spider lives in my dresser and bites my feet when I sleep. And when I wear sandals in the park, things bite my toes.

Since the blood blister was black when it used to be clear, I thought it might be infected with staph and so I popped it to release the infection. That's how people did medicine in the middle ages.

When I was looking for a picture of a blood blister, every article I read said NOT to pop blisters, ever, because they're sterile inside but easily grow staph cultures once punctured.

Sometimes I forget that I'm not a doctor.

One thing you should not do is put hydrogen peroxide on a blister. I did that. I had a blister that popped itself, and I applied peroxide to it. The blister refilled itself with peroxide bubbles, turned opaque, and hissed at me.

At least with a tumor, people care about you. I bet if I had a tumor instead of a blister, more people would read my blog.

The Best Joke I've Heard All Week

What's white and flies across the sky?
The coming of the lord.

I think I need drugs to work.