Donna Lethal

In “Here Comes the Judge” news, she’s been all over the news and there are more photos, including glamour shots with, natch, red lipstick (to match her scooter, I imagine.) Michael’s right … if only Edith Massey were still with us - this Judge is Queen Carlotta! Maybe she’ll declare it backwards day. She has a website!

I’m fighting off a cold, which means it’s just sitting in my upper chest making me feel all dry and “dusty” and horrible. The pup continues his 5AM wakeup call, bright eyed and bushy tailed (well, not really - pit bulls don’t have bushy tails) and ready to meet the world. You don’t argue with a crybaby pit bull even if it is 5AM and you’ve been having dreams about running thru NY’s garment district in a stretchy dress that’s far too small on your way to play board games at friend’s house, who takes pity on you and gives you a bedspread to wear as you follow the trail of a filmmaker that made a movie with Christopher Walken that even you’ve never heard of, because he made “underground” films that you only know about from strange flyers pasted on telephone poles; or you are resting in a Starbucks blue velvet couches, piles of fashion magazines, after spending a long night on Tenth Avenue in some kind of time warp, where you are going from club to club and Al Pacino is the barker for a porno theater that you have to keep passing on your way between clubs and you finally pack your stuff to leave, but it’s raining, and your car doors (which seems to be an early 70s green Ford LTD) won’t lock, and a couple tries to climb in so you have to drive away. Later, you end up in a period costume drama with Barbara Windsor where you get to wear medieval era outfits and you win a prize!

I’m cleansing my mind with this:
And One Was Beautiful
“A glamour girl loses a playboy (Bob Cummings!) to her shy sister and lets him take the rap for a hit and run accident.” Billie Burke is the mother and needs spirits of ammonia because of her nervous swooning when she’s not knitting or tut-tutting her girls (Laraine Day and Jean Muir) over their foolish choices. It’s filled with great dialogue:

Cummings to bad girl: “I don’t love you anymore. You’re beautiful and exciting, but prison gives you a new set of values. I don’t have much use for you.”

Cummings to good girl: “You little idiot, don’t you know I love you?”