Friday, September 29, 2006

Bad Touching

Dear Dr. Butt,

I had the great misfortune of spending two nights in a room with a man who, angry that I would not put out, uh, pleasured himself five times over the course of our stay! Is this normal? Would Emily Post think this polite? How many times can a forty-three-year-old masturbate? Please enlighten me.

Concerned, though not Mommie

Dear Not-So-Fondle,

Is it normal that he relieved his tension or that you didn't run screaming out of the room the first time he did it? I would say the latter is abnormal. If he's your husband, you should give him a break. If he's a stranger, someone you barely know, separate rooms would have made for a happier visit. His hobby is normal but the execution and venue seem creepy. That's what bathrooms, basements and the roof of your grandparents' house are for.

Of course, some films deal with that special intimate moment...and its consequences.

Who can forget There's Something About Mary, where an innocent Ben Stiller takes a piss and is mistaken as a masturbator. Then later on, when he alleviates his sexual stress, the result winds up in Cameron Diaz's hair.
Self-pleasuring leads to true love when James Spader plays tug of war on Maggie Gyllenhaal in Secretary. Ouch, that hurt. Ouch, do that again.

In Sliver's bathtub scene, Sharon Stone reveals a not-so-private moment with her privates. As Billy Baldwin watches her from his insane aerie, I couldn't help but wonder, "Where's does one draw the line between fascination and intrusiveness? I would have watched, too."
Oh, and Sharon has never looked better, except for kicking Halle Berry's ass in Catwoman (a movie that could have used a masturbation scene).

What can Chicken Butt say except that if you're there, you're participating. If you don't want to participate, get on the road and drive out of town.

XOXCB

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Rabbit in Goat's Clothing

Dear Chicken Fried Rice,

Major screw up here. Spent the day with my Chinese astrologer friend. Lounged by the pool and dove deep, deep into the zodiac. Big date coming up. Carefully calculated that I am the year of the goat. Figures. Not so carefully calculated compatipility of mate with whom I have big date this weekend. Was convinced he was a cat or tiger or whatever. Well, I just learned he is a rabbit. A rabbit. Oh no. Let's compare notes:

Cat tiger-whatever:
Tiger people are sensitive, given to deep thinking, capable of great sympathy. They can be extremely short-tempered, however. Other people have great respect for them, but sometimes tiger people come into conflict with older people or those in authority. sometimes Tiger people cannot make up their minds, which can result in a poor, hasty decision or a sound decision arrived at too late. They are suspicious of others, but they are courageous and powerful. Tigers are most compatible with Horses, Dragons, and Dogs

Rabbit:
People born in the Year of the Rabbit are articulate, talented, and ambitious. They are virtuous, reserved, and have excellent taste. Rabbit people are admired, trusted, and are often financially lucky. They are fond of gossip but are tactful and generally kind. Rabbit people seldom lose their temper. They are clever at business and being conscientious, never back out of a contract. They would make good gamblers for they have the uncanny gift of choosing the right thing. However, they seldom gamble, as they are conservative and wise. They are most compatible with those born in the years of the Sheep, Pig, and Dog.

Now what am I supposed to do. I am sooooo confused.

Signed,
was a goat am now a sheep?

Dear Baaaahhh-d Chinese,

Do you think the Rabbit is spending this much time analyzing your personality? If you're just having fun, fun! Call it trickery and the universe's desire to keep you guessing that you picked the wrong animal (if there is such a thing). A little mystery in a date is more entertaining.

Ah, this Chinese animal talk reminds me of the classic Steven Seagal movie, The Glimmer Man, where Master Steven takes Keenan Ivory Wayans to a Chinese Herb store. Because Keenan has allergies, Steven recommends some powdered deer penis. Of course, hilarity ensues when Keenan discovers what he'd ingested. Now, that's fun.

So, as you go on your date, just remember we all just taste like chicken.

--CB

Imago is Everything

Dear Chicken "no" it all,

The last time I visited with my shrink she gave me a book to read--Getting The Love You Want: A Guide For Couples. She told me I would "love" it. Well, there's a problem--I am single; there is no coupling happening in my life at all. What was she thinking? Was she rubbing salt in my failure? Additionally, my shrink told me that if I wanted to land a man with great "guns," I needed to workout my own weak flabby arms twice as much. So, I lied to her and told her that I had been working on them. She told me my "imago" (Latin for image, duh) of men and the man I want is all bent outta shape.

OK, shrinkee, so how do I fix that--my "imago?" By reading this couples book?

Signed,
Imagine a new Imago for me please!
PS--do I need to tell you that my shrink is my friend Tori?

Dear Annie Get Your Guns,

First of all, anyone who uses the term "great guns" needs to be shot. Secondly, girlfriend-shrink is coo-coo for Cocoa Puffs for recommending a book wholly unsuited to your reality. Not to mention, using "imago" instead of perfectly fine words like "view" and "vision."

This reminds me of Marcia Gay Harden who had a brilliant but small role in The First Wives Club. She was the shrink who stole Stephen Collins away from Diane Keaton (bitch!) and continued to treat both of them. Her credo: Breathe from love. Work from love. Did shrinky go to school for that?

Next Shrinky will give you acronyms for how to fix your life: The three C's--Create a new mind-world, Collaborate with your inner child, Conquer the cruel dating scene and find Mr. Fantastic. Or if, you use Match.com, follow Dr. Phil's helpful: Mind, Find, Bind strategy (Mind what you eat, Find the Ex-Lax, Bind your irritable bowels) in dating. I say, lose the shrink--or find a better one--stop reading books about relationships because they say the same thing, and get a non-boy related hobby. If you're a failure at dating, why continue looking for more? And why does anyone have to date since it's so tedious and mostly disappointing? Choose something you are better at, like building houses out of hay from the hen-house. Oh wait, that's my hobby.

--CB

Monday, September 18, 2006

Paper Doesn't Grow on Trees

Dear Chicken Butt,

Today I went into my local Duane Reade pharmacy to buy some gum and my receipt was a mile long. Why is Duane Reade wasting so much paper and what can I do to express my annoyance?

--A Tree-Lover Grows in Brooklyn

Dear Sappy,

Sarcasm is a fun way to make your point. When you reach the apathetic cashier (and Duane Reade trains its employees to give you a dead-eyed stare of hatred), just say to him/her: "I'd like a really long receipt, please." That will give you personal satisfaction. Then, I would do what is corny and obvious--send a letter to the president of Duane Reade. Contact Al Gore after this. After you're done, take a trip to D'Agostino's and buy one item. Notice how their receipts are unnecessarily wide? Do the same with them.

Chicken Butt used to be a cashier so she understands the apathy of Duane Reade employees. Well, for me, it was confusion over addition and subtraction--counting change. If you want to amuse yourself over cashier antics, be sure to watch:

Clerks--lackadaisical cashiers. I don't remember much from this movie except Jay and Bob, who resemble me and my childhood friend Lynne (We shoplifted penny candy).

The Good Girl--Jennifer Aniston as a cashier. Believe it or not.
The first season of Queer As Folk--Michael is a manager at a store so deals with customers all the time (and hides his homosexuality from his less-than-accepting colleagues). Okay, he's not a cashier, but this allows me to mention Gale Harold, who is on the show.

--CB

Friday, September 15, 2006

Slow Down on Speed Dialing

Dear Chicken Butt,

You have to help me. I did something terrible. So, I had a bad day and took a bubblebath by candlelight. After that, I put on my new polka-dotted silk lingerie and decided to call the guy I've been seeing. I hit speed dial and when he answered, I just started talking. Hey babe, whatcha doin'? Oh, er, uh, nothing, just bringing in my mail, he answered. His voice sounded familiar but not quite like My Johnny. Must be bad hearing so I described my sexy new lingerie, that I was rolling around on my bed and couldn't wait to see him. Long story short, I soon learned I was talking to my BOSS!

I am so mortified...S.O.S...

Signed,
My Boss Knows I Have Polka-Dotted Panties

Dear You Are So Fired,

Sorry, CB is laughing too hard. Best of luck trying to get your boss not to think of you in your underwear.

To make you feel better, I can point out some entertaining phone conversations on film:

If you're a romantic, the best is that phone-kissing scene in Notorious between Cary Grant and Ingrid Bergman. The only way they could get this marathon face-sucking past the censors was to add a phone conversation.

If you've been fired and want to retain all your clients, I suggest the "Show me the money" call in Jerry Maguire (also good if you want to hear Tom Cruise yell, "I'm your mother-f*cker!").

Would point out the Donna Reed and Jimmy Stewart phone conversation in It's a Wonderful Life, but my gag reflex just kicked in.

Remember those joyful pestering phone calls Glenn Close makes to Michael Douglas in Fatal Attraction? "I woke up, you weren't here, I hate that..."

One phone call can be dangerous if you watch poor Colin Farrell deal with a psycho- caller (played by Kiefer Sutherland) in Phone Booth. A forgettable movie but decent performances. Beware of fixating on Colin's scary eyebrows. I missed half the movie watching them.

--CB

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Those HMO Bastards

Dear Chicken Butt,

I have this medicine I have to take and yet when I called to get a prescription, the evil receptionist said I had to make an appointment to see the doctor. But I need to have the medicine today, but she said I have to see the doctor first. How do I avoid this Catch-22?

Signed,
Could Die of Heart Attack

Dear Testy Ticker,

Shirley MacLaine won an Oscar from one scene. Remember the "She needs her pills!" speech in Terms of Endearment? Shirley bounds into the nurses' station, smacks the counter, screams, channels the Harpies to get Debra Winger her morphine. Not that you're going to die, but you need your pills. I suggest you throw a huge fit on the phone. And during your doctor visit, make sure you complain about not getting your pills. You need your pills. You need your PILLLLLLLLSSSSSSS! Then you can thank the Academy.

Sidebar: In the waiting room, read some of Shirley's books. They're freaky and fun.
And if you guess what movie the title comes from, you get extra seed cake. Okay, it's As Good as It Gets--said by Pay It Forward star Helen Hunt.

--CB

Sunday, September 10, 2006

Today's Confession


I used an entire print cartridge printing out sudoku puzzles...but this isn't as bad as beating up my printer with a bat, the way those three guys did in Office Space.

Monday, September 04, 2006

Cleaving Daniel Cleaver

Dear Chicken-buttress,

I have sworn off the narcissitic "super" men of my [recent] past and am going out to dinner with a nice guy this evening. He has all that I am looking for, except for incredible arms. Also, I keep finding my mind wandering back to the guy I am all hung up on. I have tried burning sage, exorcism, dancing naked in the rain and other things to get him off my mind. If I were going out with the "super" man of my past--three weeks ago, I would rip off his clothes on the spot. Now, this new guy, I don't have that urge. HELP! I must break my pattern. Even Dr. Phil, if I watched him, would tell me that. Oh high priestess, do tell.

Signed,

Breaking pattern [and I'm not talking china, doll)

Dear Masochistic Mona,

Remember that scene in the first Bridget Jones when she finds the naked American in Daniel Cleaver's bathroom? She had one day of moping, pulling off her fake eyelashes and guzzling vodka before she got back on the exercise bike [aside: some of us spiral downward for much longer, like a year, but I'm not naming names]. The problem is that the Daniel Cleavers always come back to test your resolve--it's because they are empty and search for an oasis. Would he break a nail for you?

Look at the facts: The last time you saw Superman, were you happy? Did you have fun or were you angsting? Next, you have to run the Hospital Test. If Superman found out you got into a car accident, would he fly to your side? He'd make lame excuses, in which case, you say, "see ya!" You may have those tortured thoughts, but they are just thoughts. Your action of dating others is healthy.

If I can bring up Barbra again, when her marriage to Jeff Bridges failed in The Mirror Has Two Faces, she got back on the horse and started dating Pierce Brosnan, even though she was still in love with Jeff. Okay, bad example since she goes back to Jeff. What kind of stupid name is Jeff anyway? Or Pierce for that matter? Cluck, cluck, cluck! Excuse the babble, I'm about to hatch.

In the meantime, read a book, see a movie, hang with friends.

Saturday, September 02, 2006

She Works Hard for the Monkey, I Mean, Money

Hey there, Chicken Butt,

I saw that movie The Devil Wears Prada and I gotta say, I was thinking they were talking about my boss. She's quite a handful, the one I report to. She frequently says things that make me feel incompetent. And I'm not. I'm fully competent, I swear! So what on earth can I do when my boss makes me feel lower than a pregnant ant's belly?

Lower Than Low

Dear Tess McGill,

The likelihood is certain that your boss was a public nose-picker in kindergarten. What's more, she was probably caught by her peers and her teacher. Based on a focus group of 1, CB concludes that those who've been teased in grade-school are more likely to denigrate others in the workplace.

I can sympathize with your quandary since I see roosters constantly criticizing our dirt-scratching. You know who else understands? Melanie Griffith in Working Girl. She eventually got her revenge by boinking Harrison Ford and stealing Sigourney Weaver's (who looked fantastic in her lingerie and suits) job. Here's my advice: If you love your job and hate your boss--act passive-aggressively, i.e. give the wall separating you two the finger, wear suits more often so that she'll think you're interviewing elsewhere and, most fun of all, draw mustaches and rabbit ears on pictures of her and stash them in your bottom drawer. When you feel a-quiver from her beatings, pull out the pics and laugh uproariously. It will keep you sane and jolly. Remember, too, you will be in her shoes. Bad bosses teach us survival skills more thoroughly than do the pushover bosses who want to be our friend. Then again, as Danny Glover says repeatedly in Lethal Weapon 1, 2, 3and 4, "I'm too old for this shit." Which is why I suggest drawing mustaches.

CB