Here is a thing that I definitely would NOT say out loud to a somewhat pompous comedian whom I had just met:

HIM: You know what I hate? I hate it when I have two shows in a night and I tell the same joke. And the first crowd? Well, they LOVE the joke. But the second crowd? They don't even laugh. And I have to say, "What are you? Fuckin' RETARDED?!?!"

ME: Have you considered the possibility that it was the first crowd that was retarded?

Yes, if I were me, that is definitely NOT something that I would say out loud to a another comedian.

Except that I already did.

But in retrospect I wouldn't say it. The me that has a time machine would definitely not say this thing to him.

Errrrr.....

Whoops.

The world has gone turvy-topsy, I'm convinced.

But don't just take my word for it. I suspect that if you were to take a poll of any random person on the street (homeless people included because they have, I assume, more time to consider the poll questions and also will probably answer whatever you want if you give them quarters,) that person would attest to the world's turviness.

But what separates me from the homeless people (other than the obvious--a batmobile bed) is that I have a plan. Yep, right here in my blog I am offering a plan to turn things a little more upright.

Wait, let's go back. Explain a little, maybe. Maybe YOU haven't noticed the recent backwardness of the world (and by "the world," I probably mean "America." And by "America," I probably mean, "people inside my television." And by "inside my television," I probably mean "wires and other things that I don't know what they do and once my cat had kittens inside the television, but that's a separate blog really. ")

Oh, this isn't getting any clearer, is it?

It all starts in Hollywood, California, chums (where there used to be 'gold in them thar hills,' there is now 'silicone in them thar breasts.')

Hollywood, for those of you that don't know, is the place where famous people go to make fools out of themselves. They toss their babies out of windows or crash their cars whilst drinking jugfuls of whiskey or star in movies like "The Dukes of Hazard." These are all unhealthy pastimes that can only lead to destruction.

Now the turviness: What do famous people like? They like having their picture taken and being written about and having people talk about them all the time. They like BEING FAMOUS.

So why-oh-why, when they do something stupid and dangerous and awful, do we choose to make them MORE FAMOUS? Don't we want people to stop doing stupid things?

That's like telling a child, "Hey, stop eating cookies." And then, every time he sneaks a cookie giving him MORE cookies as punishment. This makes no sense.

(Though to be fair cookies are good. I would eat them all day if I could, except for those hours in which my cat is having kittens inside the television. Because cuteness outweighs yumminess in my hierarchy of ways to spend my day.)

So I have a plan for some world-fixing. But I'll need your help. You and you and you and, especially, YOU. Here goes:

Once a celebrity does something terrible and stupid (and they will, trust me)......

Stop writing about them.

Stop talking about them.

Stop buying magazines with their faces on the cover.

"Paris Who?", you shall say. "Britneylindsaynicoletara? Never heard of her."

Let us stop being a world that rewards people for being stupid.

Pretty please?

(Also less time spent talking about celebrities means more time for kittens-in-the-television stories. And that's best for everyone, I think. Yes.)

I have an audition for a BROADWAY MUSICAL in the morning.

I've never been called in for a Broadway show before, so this is very very exciting for me.

Well, except for one thing.

One eensy thing. Bitsy really.

See, my manager sent me the description of the character they called me in for. The role the casting directors feel I'm PERFECT for. I shall share an excerpt with you now:

MONA: Female. Caucasian, adult to play high school age. Ugly, but happy and cheerful. Needs comic chops and movement ability. Strong pop/rock singer.

Wait. Did you catch that? Did you? It went by fast, so you might have missed it.

That's right.

Ugly.

Ugly, and happy about it, to boot.

At first I was upset. Maybe a little insulted. Who are they to call me ugly??

But now I realize that it's a win-win situation. See, either I get the part, and become a Broadway musical star and fullfill a lifelong dream.

OR I don't get the part.

And I know, in my heart of hearts, that I was just too pretty.

At a restaurant today, I ordered something they called Super Green Tea.

Things that my Super Green Tea did not do:

1) Fly
2) Fight crime
3) Change in a phone booth
4) Make out with Kirsten Dunst

Things that my Super Green Tea did do:

1) Burn my tongue
2) Taste a little bit like fish

I just read that Teddy Roosevelt was shot immediately before making a campaign speech in 1912. But you know what? He made the speech ANYWAY. Before seeing a doctor, even.

So that led me to today's topic:

THINGS I WOULD FINISH IMMEDIATELY AFTER BEING SHOT AND BEFORE RECEIVING MEDICAL ATTENTION:

1) A Twix bar (just one. Not both of them. I am, after all, bleeding. Oh, also the kind with caramel. The peanut butter is good too, but I would save it till after the doctor. Although peanut butter has protein, so maybe that would be better. Yes. Peanut butter, not caramel. Final answer. Except for the yumminess of caramel. Sigh... Twix decisions are always so Sophie's-Choice-esque.)

2) An episode of "Project Runway." Death, I can take. Dying without knowing whether the crazy woman who spits on her clothes gets kicked off by grammatically-challenged Heidi Klum? That would be a tragedy.

3) My first novel. That is, if I were writing a novel. Which I'm not. But maybe I should. I mean, I haven't been shot or anything so it should be really really easy since I'm not bleeding all over the keyboard.

4) A life-saving surgery. I mean, just say I was a doctor (stop laughing) and I was in the middle of a very important surgery when I got shot. My first thought would be, "I'm totally gonna finish this life-saving surgery before I have my own life-saving surgery. Because that's the kind of doctor I am." Wait. My FIRST thought would probably be, "Since when did 'Pass the scalpel, stat!' mean 'Shoot me in the face.'?" But my second thought would be about saving lives for sure.

5) This blog entry.

The end.