HOLY HOTTIE!
MEGAN has been absent from this blog since June 25th, and that’s because sobriety has turned her into a tiresome little prude. It’s not that I approve of substance abuse--that would be going too far! It’s just that addiction seems to function as a kind of medium in some film stars' psychic Petri dishes, a medium on which the bacteria of genius flourishes. Take, for instance, the immensely talented OWEN WILSON,
whose alleged drug use seems to propel him ever skyward. Short of slitting his own wrists, nothing could stop his star from shining (Once is enough, Owen!}.
MEGAN’s participation in AA may be a good thing, but it means our conversations now sound like this...
ME: Hello Megan, how are you today?
MEGAN: I’m blessed.
ME: You’re blessed? When did that happen?
MEGAN: I’ve always been blessed.
ME: (This seems an odd reply for a girl who's had her nose done four times.) "Oh really?" I say. "And when did you first realize you were blessed?"
MEGAN: I’ve always known it deep inside. I couldn’t see it because I was too busy absorbing the negativity of other people. It’s important that we all admit the truth to ourselves and to others, even when it’s uncomfortable.
ME: I wish you’d tell that to my Korean dry cleaners. He insists he didn’t put that awful stain on my Donna Karan blouse with the floppy bow, but anyone can plainly see that it's kimchi !
MEGAN: Truth knows no boundaries.
Anyway, she went on like this for nearly a half hour today, at which point I contemplated pushing her out the window.
On my way home, I stopped at a magazine stand. As I was paying for my “Psychology Today,“ a man walked up to the cashier and said, “Excuse me, sir. Have you got ‘Modern Christian Magazine’?"
“No,” said the cashier, looking up from his newspaper.
“Well then,” said the customer, “have you got ‘Christian Perspective Monthly’?"
“No sir, I don’t,” said the cashier.
“Well then,” said the man, “have you got ‘Boob-a-licious?’”
“Aisle number two,” said the cashier.
“Excellent,” said the man.
I wondered how ’Boob-a-licious’ satisfied the same spiritual needs as ‘Christian Perspective Monthly.’
When I got home I asked Ostergarrd to explain this phenomenon to me, but his response was simply, “Boobies! Boobies!” and he laughed hysterically the rest of the night. “Boobiees!” he giggled as I tried to sleep, “We want boobies!” Ostergarrd is such a pure soul! Judging by his reaction, I doubt they've ever heard the word Boobies in Transjö Glashytta, Sweden. I’d better not tell him about our American dingleberries!
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I am going on vacation with my husband Ostergarrd. We will be visiting his family in Sweden until the end of August. In the meantime, my receptionist, Petal, will answer the phone and maintain this blog. Cheers!
A Message From Petal, Dr.DelVecchio's receptionist!!
Dear Ladies & Gentlemen!
DR. DelVecchio is going on a vacation for two weeks. She says she will be "LANGUISHING IN THE REMOTE BACKWATERS OF SWEDEN" with her husband Ostergarrd, and will return on Friday, August 31st. Please check back then, OK?
In the meantime, I will be hanging out at her office. You can CONTACT contact me to set up appointments. If you think you've got A PSYCHIATRIC EMERGENCY, CALL 911. If you're calling about the BAYWATCH BARBIE ON CRAIGSLIST, it's been sold.
Dr. DelVecchio looks forward to seeing you all again soon, especially since I don't think she really wants to go to the remote backwaters of Sweden in the first place... WHO WOULD?!
Sincerely,
A Message From Petal, Dr.DelVecchio's Receptionist!!
I know who is making those obscene phone calls and when Dr. DelVecchio returns from the backwaters of Sweden, I’m telling her all about it. You’re so obvious!
Today I answered the phone and I heard, in broken English, “Hey sexy girl! You like big, hairy he-man? I am big, hairy he-man! You want me make woman out of you? I am Viking! Big hairy Viking will make woman out of you! I turn you into sex slave! Slutty girl sex slave! You bark like dog!”
Do you know how creepy you sound?! I can’t believe you kept bragging in your funny little voice, about what a big, hairy he-man you are…
“You like big, hairy man? Huh? Baby, that’s me! Big, hairy he-man! Size thirteen shoe!”
“Actually,” I said, “since you asked, I prefer smaller guys, and without all the hair. Too much body hair is yucky! My ideal guy is about five-feet six inches tall and he‘s got big, dreamy brown eyes. So I guess that leaves you out. You’re too much man for me.”
“Hey wait!” you said. “Hey wait, baby! You don’t like hairy? I not hairy! You like five-feet six inches, I am five-feet six inches! This-a you lucky day, baby!”
“No thanks, Mr. Kim,” I said. “I don’t date Dr. DelVecchio’s clients, even if they are big producers.”
“What? Who?” you said. “Who is this Mr. Kim? Who that guy? I am somebody else!”
"Well, you sound like Mr. Kim and you talk like Mr. Kim."
"But I no look-a like Mr. Kim!"
“Whatever you say, Mr. Kim.”
“You crazy!” you said. “Mr. Kim, he another guy, not me!”
“Okay, Mr. Kim,” I said.
Well, the delivery guy arrived with my Phad Thai and my Sierra Mist, so I had to hang up. Oh my God, that delivery guy is sooo cute!!! He’s a surfer and he’s got the biggest, dreamiest brown eyes I’ve ever seen! Hello! My type!!!
A Message From Petal,Dr.DelVecchio's Receptionist!!
BILL MAHER IS RUDE!!
Bill Maher is the rudest person in the whole world, and that's a shame because he seems to pop up everywhere I go!
Daddy came to L.A. to visit me this past Tuesday and we decided to have dinner at Off Vine. Well, Daddy was giving his keys to the valet, when all of a sudden Bill Maher stepped out of a big, dark SUV.
I said to Daddy, "Look, Daddy, there's Bill Maher!" I thought that my father, being a congressman, might want to ask Bill about appearing on Bill's talk show, even though Daddy is a Republican and thinks Bill Maher is a crackpot. Then maybe I'd get to interview Bill for my school newspaper and he could take me and my girlfriends out to lunch and then maybe he'd like to go rollerblading at Venice Beach and then we could all go for highlights and a pedicure at Night Spa.
But the possibility of that ever happening in a million years went up in smoke on Tuesday night. And do you know why? Because when Bill heard me point him out to Daddy, he got a sour look on his face and rolled his eyes, and he didn't roll them in a nice way! He rolled them in a way that screamed out "God, what am I doing in this place with these stupid people? Get me out of here!"
To make things worse, Daddy and I were given a table right near Bill and his posse. A droopy looking lady walked up to Bill and told him that he had given her "the hope" to carry on with her droopy life. Bill turned to his buddies and rolled his eyes with a look that screamed out, "God, what am I doing in this place with these stupid people? Get me out of here!"
I couldn't stand it any longer and so, after our meal, I walked very slowly by Bill's table. His gaze met mine, and though it was for only a zillionth of a second, it was enough time for me to roll my eyes with a look that screamed out, "God, what am I doing in this place with stupid Bill Maher? Get me out of here!"
And this was the best moment of my entire life, even if I did proceed to trip over that champagne stand and splatter Dom Perignon all over the stupid floor.
Dr. DelVecchio returns from Sweden!
I’ve just returned from a month-long visit to Transjö Glashytta, Sweden, home of my husband Ostergarrd’s family. What a marvelous adventure! I learned that the Swedish people are friendly and sociable, their crime rate is very low, and they have many unusual and exciting customs such as international waffle day, when everybody sits down to eat a waffle.
The excitement of waffle day is topped by another celebration where everybody sits down to enjoy a fluffy éclair stuffed with a pound and a half of sugary cream filling. This is the holiday which celebrates the discovery of, I believe, diabetes.
The flight home was also pleasant…that is, until we reached American Customs. Since Ostergarrd has a foreign-sounding name, he was pulled aside, interrogated and strip-searched. To my mortification, the customs agent found fourteen tulip bulbs sequestered between Ostergarrd’s buttocks. The agent, luckily, didn’t possess more than a second grade education and was willing to believe my explanation: the bulbs are an herbal remedy for hemorrhoids and should not be disturbed.
And so I’ll be returning to work on Monday, September 10. I understand my clients have missed me but I need a week to reacclimatize, to take inventory of my blessings and to visit Rodeo Drive to claim the blessings I lack. In the meantime, my capable receptionist, Petal, will field all of your calls and hand out Valium to anyone who needs it badly enough. Here at DelVecchio Psychotherapy, I guess that’s every last soul!
