‘I love funerals. They’re Red Carpet shows for dead people’
(The Philippine Star) - September 7, 2014 - 12:00am


MANILA, Philippines - • I’m having my lips done. I need only a little filler, I don’t want to turn into one of those Beverly Hills housewives who have so much filler in their lips they look like ducks and the only place they fit in is Disneyland. 

• The dentist said my face has been pulled so tight he didn’t need to give me a cleaning. I can floss with the stitches behind my ears.  

• Renee Zellweger’s face is pulled so tight she could whisper in her own ear.

• I’m back in LA for a “minor cosmetic procedure.” I’m having a brow lift, tummy tuck, chin job and lip implant. Or as my plastic surgeon likes to call it, “the usual.” Should all be healed in 48 hours. If not, I’ll just tell people I spent a romantic weekend with Chris Brown.

• I look old? After all the money I’ve spent on botox? Melissa says I’ve had more needles in me than a pine forest in Maine.

• I hate tennis. All that head turning back and forth, back and forth. It can loosen up even a good facelift.

• Carol Burnett went under the knife, got cheekbones and lost her series... Sonny Bono decided to “get in shape,” so he took up skiing.

• Everything is falling apart — except for my face which I’ve lifted so many times I wear my earrings on my kneecaps.

• I had my body renovated 600 times. I’ve undergone more reconstruction than Baghdad.


• When young people ask me if I have started “hooking up,” unfortunately they mean to life support.

• No one wakes up from a coma and says: “Finally I’m dying; what a blessing.” What my friends say when they wake up from a coma is, “Where the f*** is my purse?”

• On my birthday, I got a “Wish You Were Here” card from Forest Lawn Cemetery. I love their go-get-them attitude.

• I know Melissa cares about me and my quality of life because when I complained about having a bad hair day, Melissa went to court to fight for my right to die.

• We’re in desperate need of a good, tragic celebrity death. Or two. And to make it work for me, it has to be unexpected...I like shocking... “Why did Whitney Houston have cocktails in the bath tub before the Grammys” kind of death.

• When I go, I want to be stuffed and put on the living room couch, then when people come over, Melissa can say, “Sit down and don’t mind Mom. She’s on a vocal rest for her new play.”

• I love funerals. They’re just Red Carpet shows for dead people. I want my funeral to be a huge showbiz affair with lights, camera, action. I want Meryl Streep crying in five different accents. I don’t want a eulogy. I want Bobby Vinton to pick up my head and sing, Mr. Lonely. I want to look gorgeous, better dead than I do alive. I want to be buried in a Valentino gown and I want Harry Winston to make me a toe tag. And I want a wind machine  so that even in my casket my hair is blowing just like Beyonce.

• Don’t break the news to my friends by singing “A-Tisket, A-Tasket, Joan’s Finally in a Casket.”

• Please make sure no one knows Melissa’s last words to me were “Just sign this.”

• Death does not scare me. I just want to leave a legacy. Something sexual would be good.

• Since I’ve achieved some fame, when I go, probably if it’s a slow news day, it will be in all the papers and on TV... It means I have to produce the event so that it is not only newsworthy but will set Melissa and Cooper up for a 90-minute HBO special on their grief and/or happiness at my passing. 

• Since I’m old, there won’t be any “she died so young” beats to play and since I don’t have any major drug or alcohol addictions, we can’t use the “I’m surprised she lived this long” card.


• I hate to complain, but I have to face it, I have no sex appeal. I’ve yet to find a gynaecologist who has the nerve to examine me twice.”

• I love that the Dead Sea was named for my sex life.

• As a tween, I was fat. A rapist grabbed me, took a look and said,”Maybe we could just be friends.”


• I’ve gotten only two Valentines in my entire life. One from my husband Edgar, which read: “Roses are red, violets are blue, undress one more time in front of me and we’re through.” The last was from a man I met at an AARP (American Association of Retired Persons) meeting — a big card that said: I Pacemaker You.”

•  I am searching for an 80-year-old man who has 80 million in the bank and 8 days to live.

• I hate women who date much younger men. I’ll never be a cougar. I don’t ever want to wake up in the morning and wonder: “Is this my date or did I just give birth last night?”


• I woke up this morning feeling depressed. Maybe because it was raining and dreary, or maybe it’s because I’ve gained five pounds. Or maybe it’s because Betty White’s career is doing so much better than mine.

• I buy tampons so that the teenaged box-boy who works in the store will continue to look at me with both admiration and lust.

• I hate old men with hair in their ears. A rain forest in the ears is not a turn on. Instead of Q tips, the men would need super mops.

• I don’t want to rehash this bit of history here, but it’s common knowledge that Abe Lincoln and I were an item.

• Getting old sucks! Everything is confusing. Sometimes late at night, I wake up with this hot moist feeling and I’m not sure if I’m having an orgasm or a stroke.


• At a fastfood chicken place, the idiot at the counter said: “We’re out of breasts.” I said: “Who are you? A Beverly Hills plastic surgeon a week before the Oscars?”

• The Red Carpet is a special place to me. It’s where I spent my formative years — 35 to 67. It’s magical; where else can an everyday, simple hausfrau like me meet rich, famous superstars fresh out of rehab and grill them about their sobriety coach. Where else can the A-list actresses show off the $3M necklaces they’ve borrowed or the 4,000 African kids they bought?

• I didn’t realize how I adore taping Fashion Police. It’s been almost a month since I insulted celebrities, shamed lesbos and made fat jokes about Aretha Franklin. I need my fix.


• AT&T obviously stands up for Always Terrible Transmissions... my international phone service sucks more than Monica Lewinsky under a White House chair.

• I hate that people are crude, they don’t have manners anymore. Maybe I’m old-fashioned but I believe when a woman enters a room, men should stand up...and gay men should stand up at least halfway.

• I hate Hitler. He’s probably the worst villain of the last 500 years. On top of that he had zero fashion sense. Brown shirts, boots and armbands? Millions of Germans would practically throw their arms out of their sockets saluting him, and he’d make this half-ass wave back at them, as if to say “Whatever.”

• I hate people who make videos of their children’s birth — it’s not pretty... blood and guts all over the place. It’s a crime scene, they ought to put yellow tape around the delivery room.

• I hate modern-day child stars... Miley Cyrus, Britney Spears, and Lindsay Lohan and all those other Hollywood trampettes — because they became child stars in a time of rehab.

• Most mothers would be horrified if their daughter made a sex tape. Not Kris Jenner. She used the sex tape as a screen credit to get her daughter Kim Kardashian into the Screen Actors Guild.

• I hate people who don’t dress up. The only people who can get away with not dressing up for a concert are Andrea Boccelli fans.

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