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.