971 A guest blogger via me.

Just yesterday Julie was saying she can’t thank me enough for my love and dedication to her during this time of trial.

She wanted to be a guest blogger but felt she was too weak to do it justice so she asked me to do it for her.

Remember these are her words not mine.

It’s been over three weeks since my foot surgery and without the devotion and love of my wonderful aunt Mattie I wouldn’t be talking to you now (through her).

Even though she hates to 1.leave her house and 2. leave her dog,  she shows up each day to feed and bathe me.

She’s even made full dinners and lugged them over to my house so that my loving boyfriend and innocent daughter could eat too.

This is no surprise to me. She’s had my back in good times and bad.


She’s always been the “fun aunt”. Here she is dancing with the ice box (I believe they call it a refrigerator now) before I was even born while she was just a teen


Her greatest trait is her willingness to jump right in and do what needs to be done with out even thinking about her needs, be it suffering a debilitating stabbing or various aches and sprains. I believe there was some kind of head wound involved too but since she’s not a complainer I can only guess at that.

She still perseveres suffering in silence while disappointing her beloved pup who each day looks hopefully and the door as if to say “Can I come too Mom?”


“Not this time, my lad. Your cousin Julie needs me and her untrained vicious mutts will make mincemeat of your purebred self.”

At least that’s what I assume she said.

Here’s a picture of one of my dogs trying to eat my foot so she isn’t wrong.

Although nauseated by my purple foot and later the hives I broke out in (Editor’s note: what kind of moron doesn’t mention that they are allergic to penicillin when they’ve had a reaction before?) she nevertheless cared for me always making me feel that it was no bother by reminding me that “There’s no such thing as patient care without a certain amount of gagging”

So for this reason I nominate my Aunt Mattie for Citizen of the Week, nay Year!


970. My first TV related injury

As you know my niece Julie Rose Klam is homebound with a foot injury.

I’ve been spending quite a bit of time waiting on her hand and (heh heh) foot.

Now here’s the part that will astound you and make you wonder if we are truly related.


Oh she has the box but since it’s not connected to cable it’s uses are limited.

Anyway that gives us plenty of time to chat.

On Tuesday I mentioned that I suffer from thumb joint pain obviously as a result of arthritis.

Now you people know me. I’m not a complainer.

Possibly I will mention serious stuff like my new 49″ TV being so small that I had to return it for a 55″ or that no one should have to live with a knife wound or ugly shoes but just stuff like that.

One would think that Julie being incapacitated herself would be more sympathetic to other sufferers.

Yet my screaming “ouchy magouchy my thumb is killing me” over and over got nothing more than stony silence from her.

ice bag

At this time I will call attention to her foot that has an ice bag on it like in a Donald Duck cartoon.

How do you think she got the ice?

You guessed it. I clearly empathy skips a generation.

Oh back to the TV injury.

I figured out that that’s my remote thumb.

Every silver lining has a cloud around it.


969 Not EVERYONE had a good Thanksgiving

I certainly did but one member of my household did not.

Not all of my family was here but enough came so that I had a great time. It’s so good to look around the room and love everyone you see.

We only had 20 for dinner this year.

We laughed and talked and just did it up. I can show you some photos that prove my point.




See? A real fun group.

I’m not a nitpicker but it seems to me that when so many people are sharing a space said people should use some consideration when it comes to making room for others.

Now if you notice Julie took up several spots on the couch. I guess I can’t blame her what with the foot thing but she does seem to be milking it.

And as long as she wasn’t using those crutches possibly she could have found a more convenient place to put them.

Also maybe you can explain this because I can’t.


Sure she got to stretch out but there was not seat in the manger for someone whose house it is.


And to make matters worse his usual pal/ bed was overtaken by his cousin Brian.


Ever forgiving the next day, after everyone left, Ray asked me to invite Matt, Lara and Pixie over for dinner.

Ray was just about to show us his new fart on command trick when Pixie jumps up and steals his thunder.

He had had enough.  Though usually mild mannered he finally had to show his displeasure.

Maybe next year a few people will have to give thanks someplace else.

968. My wonderful family and a stabbing

As I mentioned, my nephew Yitzhak, nee Eric, came on his yearly visit from Israel.

He comes to see all of us and to pray at his mother’s grave.

Last year he brought nine of his ten children. This year a measly 3 and a grandchild. My sister Marcia drove over 5 hours so she could see them.

They spent a few days with me and then took a short trip to Washington DC, which is about 5 hours from my house.

When he came back he said he was so impressed that Marcia drove down to see them because he found the drive to DC difficult.

“You don’t drive long distances in Israel?”

“If I drove 5 hours in Israel I’d be in Lebanon.”

When they arrived in DC he called to let me know that they had arrived safely. They had parked the car and were off to the Holocaust Museum.

“Sounds like fun. Enjoy.”

It wasn’t all sight seeing. They were also able to visited some Klam cousins


Plus they worked at fitting in by

  1. Lazing by the poolIMG_4007

and 2. demonstrating for the public good


They’ve returned to Israel but their American relatives miss them every day.

Now I don’t know if I’ve told you this before. I probably have but tough, all old people repeat themselves a lot.

When they come to my house they won’t eat off my plates, touch my food or use any of my cooking utensils so I have a big plastic bag filled with kosher stuff that I keep behind my couch when they aren’t here.

After they left I picked up the bag and was badly stabbed by a knife sticking out of the bag.


Now most people stabbed like that with a wound that clearly needed stitches or at least a sling would have asked for an ambulance but my dedication to family made me ignore my suffering and go to the aid of Julie who had life and death foot surgery the day before.


Over I went to care for her.

What I didn’t know was that I was risking my own survival in carrying her around her apartment, spoon feeding her plus doing general cleaning and light dusting.

In a short time my wound opened up and I was forced to bandage it up so that I wouldn’t lose too much blood.


(man do I need some moisturizer on my arms)

This was made worse because Julie told me that Ann Leary said that as you get older you lose fat in the only place you really want it, on the bottom of your feet.

Not only was I suffering from a blood loss which clearly resulted in light headedness, bleary eyesight and all around not goodness but I also was well on my way to bone bottom feet.

In spite of all this I soldiered on.

I don’t like to speak ill of the wounded but I asked Julie about 6 times where she keeps her slings and it was greeted by stony silence.

I just hope I can recover sufficiently to host my usual Thanksgiving dinner.

This year it’s for 20.

I think it’s 20. Being stabbed has played havoc with my memory.

967 Dear Warren and What’s New

I just read your comment:

“Always liked this blog.
But lately it stopped being updated
Hope this is only temporary.”

Well, Warren, if I may call you Warren, you can blame Donald Trump and the NRA on my not writing as much.

I try to make my blog amusing but I am having some trouble thinking of anything funny to say and when I do something shitty happens so it goes on the back burner.

But if you get any pleasure in what I write I will try to do better.

My malaise began about a year ago when Stephanie and Terry spent the night at my house and Terry referred to my 46″ TV as “crappy”.

Look I’m not a person that holds on to an insult but as you know I need my TV to be in tip top shape because the “Housewives” close ups can be very unforgiving and since I spend the majority of my life studying them….. well you can guess why this  bugged me.

However I’m a woman alone without a lot of discretionary money so I just sucked it up.

Finally I decided to bite the bullet and look into a new SMART TV.

I bumped into my Super, Lester, and asked him if he knew anything about TVs. Luckily for me he did.

He was sitting at my computer going through my options when Julie dropped in.

“Why’s Lester sitting at your computer?”

“He’s helping me pick out a TV”


“Because he’s my Super”

My Super doesn’t help me buy a TV”

“Well you live on the west side”

So back to the TV discussion.

Lester finds the perfect TV for me.

“What size?” he asks

“49 inch”

“You really have room for a “55”

“That’s too big. My room isn’t that big”

“I have a 55 inch TV. Come down to my house and look at it.”

“No. I think 49 inches is plenty.”

“You’re making a mistake but okay”

The TV arrived 2 days later.  Lester came up, took my old TV away and connected my new TV.

All that night and the next day I watched my TV but something wasn’t right. I couldn’t put my finger on it.

Then it came to me. It was too small.

The damn thing looked like a postage stamp.

I called Amazon and arranged to return it and get the 55 inch TV.

Lester was up in my apartment packing up the old/new TV and installing my perfect TV while I harangued him about pushing me into buying that teeny piece of shit in the first place when Julie called.

We were on speaker phone and Julie did the unthinkable. She sided with Lester. Not something I will forgive any time soon.

My family is here from Israel. They pray all the time. I asked my nephew to slip in a thank you to “you know who” for my great TV.

Because it is great!!!!

I just re read this blog. It is so boring that I owe you, Warren, an apology. Maybe I’m just rusty and I’ll get better.

We shall see.


966. Does this warrant a blog? I’m not sure.

My niece Randy and her daughter Jessie stayed at my house last night because they had tickets to see “Hello Dolly”.

They left my apartment at 7 p.m. and went to 57th and Third to get a cab to the theatre.

My niece walks with a cane.

They were waiting for about 10 minutes when a young blonde woman, very pretty, in her 30’s stopped near them and put her hand up to hail a cab while looking at her phone.

My girls moved up a ways so as not to interfere with her.

A cab, going the other way, made a u turn and stopped in front of Randy and Jess. I guess he chose them because of the cane.

The woman, who we shall now refer to as fuckhead, started waving her arms screaming
“NO NO NO!  I’ve been waiting for 40 minutes” A total lie because they were there before her and they were only there for 15 minutes.

Jess is just about to get into the cab when FF hits her in the head with her purse. Jess dives in the cab to get away from her.

FF tries to yank Jess out of the cab while pushing  Randy (and her cane) to the ground.

Finally the cab driver yells at her to get away. Jess pulls Randy into the cab and closes the door. They drive away with FF giving them the finger.

The cab driver said he’s been driving a cab for 30 years and never saw anything like this. He said at first he thought they were friends and it was a joke.

I am making an announcement:

If you are blonde, pretty and in your 30’s and I see you on 57th street anywhere near Third Avenue I am going to kick the shit out of you.

I’m thinking it will take awhile before I get the right perp but you know the old saying about kissing a lot of frogs……

965 Flora, Fauna and eating habits from other lands

Last night I had a dinner party for Julie, Dan and his darling sister, Holly.

You all know what Julie looks like but here is a photo of Dan and Holly.

dan and holly

I adore them both. I don’t know if you can tell but they’re the people from another land of which I spoke, Iowa or Indiana, one of the “I” states.

(I’d like to note here that I love and accept all people)

Most people that come to my house are well aware of my entertainment rules. Wait, not just mine, all civilization’s rules.

  1. Lovely appetizers and cocktails. polite conversation;   40 to 45 minutes
  2. Arrange yourselves at the table;  Shouldn’t take more than 3 to 5 minutes
  3. Enjoy a lovely 3 course meal. Can occur in one hour if the chit chat is kept to a minimum.
    1. last night’s dinner was a lovely salad, chicken parmigiana with cheese and basil pasta, dessert of apple pie and ice cream.
    2. lovely beverages were served throughout.
  4. Saying our good byes. Not more than 2 minutes.

Since Dan has entered our family I’ve loosened this up a bit because the goyim seem to have to pee just as everyone else is at the elevator and I’m nothing if not flexible.

I will say it hasn’t been easy but he’s conformed to our family quite nicely and not too long after I say “Go home” he pees and joins the others at the door.

Last night got us off to a bad start

They came 20 minutes late. This wasn’t too serious but I explained that they’d have to rush through dessert.

Then through no fault of my own my salad was so extraordinary that much time was used up praising it and asking for ingredients. (fyi strawberries).

I was sure that Dan schooled is sister on New York dining but he seems to have left out one major thing which can throw the whole meal off.

YOU ONLY TALK IN BETWEEN COURSES. The poor girl chatted between bites.

Which is why she unfortunately didn’t have time to finish her dessert.



964. Good bye life as I know it.

My sister Marcia and I went to Montauk for 2 nights.

I had to check my house after a summer of renting it to possibly a thousand, disguised as 6 twenty-somethings and Marcia came with me.

We love to get away together because we only do what we want to do. There is not one other person or pet that has any say in whether we eat in a fancy restaurant or look in an earring store for hours on end.

It’s just us.

me and marsh.JPG

Here we are at the beach enjoying ourselves. Me innocently ignorant of what was waiting for me when I got home.

I leave Ray in the best of care, my Superintendant’s family. His wife oversees everything and their son and his girlfriend stay in my apartment waiting on Ray hand and foot.

When I got home they told me Ray was so sad the whole time. He slept in my bathroom even though they kept picking him up and bringing them in their bed.

How does this effect me? Easy answer, I am never leaving him alone again. This will be my life from now on.

Also on the few times I go to the bathroom alone there will be someone waiting outside the door suggesting that I help him flip his toy around.IMG_3833

Now who’s gonna rescue me?

963. Two Nights of Terror

Ray hates dogs.

In spite of this he doesn’t mind going up to Connecticut to visit Stephanie and Terry.

“Doesn’t mind” is a bit of a stretch. He loves them but he’s learned to endure their brood.

We just came back from a 2 night visit.

They have two huge dogs and two medium dogs.


He stays as far away from them as he can.

He can take or leave their small dogs but he thinks they’re schmucks.


What they consider fun is a mystery to him.




Even the 3 sneaky dogs they have are acceptable as long as they keep their distance.


Why they had to bring a monster into the mix is a mystery that can never be explained.


Ray was absolutely terrorized by this bitch (and I don’t mean it in the female dog sense either)

She simply wouldn’t leave him alone. She stalked him wherever he went.


Ray sought a bit of solitude on his bed but that wasn’t good enough for her.

hiding rat

She snapped at him and it took me a good half hour to find him after that.

hiding in bathroom

She even taunted him by sucking up to his cousin Stephanie.

stealing steph

And to make matters worse she was all over his beloved Terry who, incidentally, is the only person in the house who doesn’t refer to him as “not all there”.

stealing terry

You know who you are, Stephanie.

I don’t know when we’ll be able to go up there again. I know it won’t be until someone throws her out of the country.

All the way home in the car he was mumbling “where’s trump when we need him?”